Bare-Faced Messiah (PDF) - Apologetics Index

Westerns, but only about three or four men in a generation that do top-notch fantasy.'[10]
Campbell wanted Ron to contribute to Unknown, a new magazine he was in the process of
launching which was to specialize in bizarre fantasy, and promised to reserve space for him with a
proviso that only 'genuinely first-rate fantasy' would be considered. In response Ron produced a
story called 'The Ultimate Adventure', which was used as the lead novel in the April 1939 issue and
marked the beginning of a tenure during which his name was virtually a permanent fixture in the
magazine.
The protagonist in 'The Ultimate Adventure' was a favourite Hubbard stereotype - a wimp
transported by magic to another, vaguely Oriental, world and miraculously mutated into a roistering
adventurer. The wimp in this case was a destitute orphan. Beguiled by a mad professor, tie finds
himself in a scene from The Arabian Nights, is condemned to death as a suspected ghoul, shoots
his way out, falls in with a band of genuine ghouls who eat human heads, rescues a fair princess
from the cliché castle and finally turns the tables on the mad professor. It was rip-roaring stuff.
A second L. Ron Hubbard story, 'Slaves of Sleep', appeared in the July issue of Unknown. This time
the hero was not a penniless orphan but an heir to a shipping fortune, although quite as ineffectual.
Another wicked professor (Ron did not have much time for academics) causes the young man to
be cursed with eternal sleeplessness, banishing him to a world where he is a seventeenth-century
sailor on the Barbary coast embroiled in hair-raising adventures. Fortunately, he has a magic ring
for use in really tricky situations - as when he single-handedly defeats an enemy fleet by obdurately
ordering the ships to fall apart.
Compared to previous years, Ron's output in 1939 was positively dilatory - just seven novels and
two short stories. But then be had other things on his mind. A year earlier, his friend H. Latane
Lewis II, who was by then working for the National Aeronautic Association, had recommended him
to the War Department in Washington as the right man for an advisory post in the Air Corps.
In a letter to Brigadier General Walter G. Kilner, Assistant Chief of the Air Corps, H. Latane Lewis II
unexpectedly promoted Ron to the rank of 'Captain', perhaps to enhance his case: 'When you
asked me last week to procure advice on the problem of bringing a more agreeable and
adventurous type of young man into the Air Corps, I did not know I would be fortunate enough to
receive a call today from Captain L. Ron Hubbard, the bearer.
'Captain Hubbard, whom you know as a writer and lecturer, is probably the best man to consult on
this subject due to his many connections. He has offered to deliver his views in person.
'As a member of the Explorers Club he has occasion to address thousands of young men in
various institutions concerning his sea adventures and his various expeditions. Though he only
pursued soaring and power flight long enough to emass [sic] story information, he is still much
respected in soaring societies for the skill and daring which brought him two records. He often
speaks at Harvard . . .'[11]
Nothing came of Ron's offer to deliver his views in person, possibly because the Brigadier General
discovered L. Ron Hubbard was not a Captain, not a member of the Explorers Club, not a lecturer,
held no flying records and had never addressed Harvard.
Ron, as ever, was unabashed but as the situation in Europe deteriorated - the newspapers were
full of alarming reports that a German invasion of Poland was imminent - he became increasingly
enamoured with the idea that his panoply of talents should be available to Washington.