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And it was indeed airplanes that were approaching the fleet, progressing in the same direction towards the shore. They soon flew over the fleet and then overtook it, as the cameras started to capture the first aircraft in the sky. They appeared in several waves, and were of different types. After several panoramic views the camera operator endeavoured to follow a heavy bomber in close-up and was able to show distinctly its load of deadly equipment.
It was nearly thirty minutes past midnight. Satellite television coverage left the sea to return to the shore, where the noise of the engines had started to become noticeable and where a certain restlessness was in evidence. Brief orders had been issued during the night. Shadowy figures ran from one shelter to another. And suddenly, just as the last second of thirty minutes past midnight was reached, a terrible din burst out simultaneously on the land, on the sea and in the air, as the whole screen erupted in violence.
No image of a real battle had ever produced as striking an impression as this game. At the time of the actual landings in ’44, some shots gave a good idea of the violence of the operations, but the cameramen were filming in a hurry, with limited technical means and without any organisation comparable to the present one. They could not be everywhere at the same time to give a general impression and also pay particular attention to a mass of details as these cameramen were doing. As for films involving historical reconstruction after the event, of course they lacked the great emotion and the realism of a live event.
In this case the persons responsible for the games had taken care to place specialists at all the places considered important and which they knew well, as they had determined them themselves. The place and time of the first assault was specified in the rules of the game. After that a large amount of freedom was given to the teams to do their best with the means available to them. And considerable protective measures were taken with regard to the television crews and to be prepared for them being struck down, which was always possible, the groups of camera operators had been tripled, quadrupled and sometimes even increased tenfold at the greatest flashpoints. In this way there was no risk of the spectators being deprived of some outstanding episode.
This professional attention to detail bore fruit. The work of preparation had not been in vain: the spectacle promised to be of exceptional quality. From the first bombardment Yranne considered that the game was won and, tapping Betty on the shoulder in a familiar way, he held out his fist, giving her the thumbs up. The audio-visual images were marvellous and the television viewers would have to be made of marble not to be very deeply moved.
The screen was now permanently lit up by the explosion of bombs, which the cameras were often able to follow through the air from the moment they were dropped to the explosion in a deluge of fire and metal. Now viewers were very much present at the maneouvres of the Beta players, who belonged to the biological sciences team and were defending the shore. Some of the images made it possible to assess the turmoil inside the shelters; others showed the rapid blasting of the guns; yet others the feverish activity of the anti-aircraft defence. And all these images were sustained and sublimated by an auditory accompaniment which was finally worthy of them: the continuous crackling of small calibre weapons punctuated by the intermittent thundering of the big guns, the whole making up an intoxicating orchestra of sound, and all this was heightened by the odour of the battle which spread throughout the amphitheatre.
The view was no less striking in the sky over the coast of Normandy, where traceries of dazzling rays made streaks in the darkness. The projectors quite often managed to capture some of the moving forms, darker than the night itself, as they came out of a cloud, and they looked like brilliant stars encased in luminous cones. This one was not dropping bombs any more. One of these stars flickered occasionally, disappeared and reappeared a little lower, in the darkness, as a plume of smoke which was turning red. A cameraman almost always managed to follow planes like this one which had been shot down right until it exploded on the ground, which drowned out for a moment the rest of the din and intensified the luminosity of the sky even further.
This enchanting spectacle of supernatural character, and of a dramatic intensity never previously attained, this live representation of such a huge confrontation, the outcome of which was uncertain, and between champions who understood all the resources available to their art, created an atmosphere of passion and nervous over-excitement to which nobody could be immune. The spectre of melancholy had been banished. Even Mrs Betty Han allowed herself to succumb for a brief moment to the global enthusiasm, and her eyes, which were usually cold, blazed with triumph.
2.
This new game, the theme of which was ‘The Landings’, was simple. One team attempted to invade the continent of Europe; and the other’s task was to ward off this sea-born opponent. It was the fourth in a series which had proved to have a wealth of exciting aspects and finally attained lasting success.
The guiding principle proposed by the Ministry of Psychology was that of historical games. And the government could be proud of itself for having adopted it. Even though the young Rousseau’s important comment underlining the necessity of auditory impressions worthy of the images was the basis for these productions, he could not claim to be the sole originator. It was the fruit of a collaboration in which Yranne and also the astronomer Zarratoff participated. The latter, as the mathematician had confided subtly to Betty, was in the process of undergoing a remarkable change: not only was he no longer a fierce opponent of the games, but he was often tempted to add a stone himself to help build up the edifice of psychology.
The first game in the series was in fact thought up by Yranne and Zarratoff when, by a stroke of luck, there was a conjunction of two different trains of thought. When Yranne went to visit his friend, still deep in thought about Rousseau’s sensible comment, he found him bent over his desk, in the meditative attitude he knew so well. But he was not buried in contemplation of an astronomical map but of a large cardboard rectangle, on which mobile pieces could be shifted around, some of them red and the others blue, representing warships belonging to two opposing camps. Zarratoff did not utter a word. He just made an imperious gesture with his hand, to signify that he was absorbed in studying a complicated scheme and that he did not want to be disturbed.
This did not unduly surprise the mathematician. He took a seat, and sat in silence on the other side of the table, also leaning on the sheet of cardboard, and without disturbing his friend’s meditation, he started to study the position of the pieces too, trying to work out the best possible move to enable the game to continue.
‘It?
??s blue’s turn to move,’ Zarratoff deigned to say.
‘Well, I’ll take red.’
It was a game from former times, which the two friends had recently discovered and, surprisingly, taken a liking to. For them it took the place of chess, the laborious combinations of which they now found boring as their interests had been developing in a new direction for some time.
The game continued in silence. Yranne, who was usually the winner, watched his ships sink one after the other and found himself obliged to give up, which he in fact did with good grace. At first Zarratoff was uncontrollably exultant, but then he showed surprise at his uncustomary lack of tact.
‘You gave it to me on a plate, right from your second move. You have to protect your aircraft carrier at all costs. It’s simple.’
Yranne recognised his blunder and apologised for it.
‘It’s because I’ve got something else on my mind,’ he said.
So he explained to him that he had been present the previous day at a strange meeting in the psychology laboratory, and he repeated to him Rousseau’s conclusions. The astronomer understood, shaking his head in silence, and then both of them became absorbed in new reflections, staring blankly at the sheet of cardboard.
‘Good God!’ Zarratoff said suddenly.
‘Of course!’ exclaimed Yranne.
Nobody ever knew in which of the two brains the spark was first ignited. What is certain is that the theme of the first historical game was developed in that moment and simultaneously an important point was established concerning the principle governing all such entertainments. The two scholars only needed a few words to communicate their flash of inspiration to each other and find an ordinary, practical way to realise it. As soon as that was achieved, Yranne picked up the telephone and called the psychology laboratory. Mrs Betty Han was there, involved in an animated discussion with Rousseau.
‘We’ve found the answer! Zarratoff and me!’
‘You too?… So what is it?’
‘Trafalgar.’
‘Trafalgar? Well, yes. After all, why not?’
But he did not need to provide any further explanation. At the point she had reached in her discussion with Rousseau, her mind was focused in such a way that just this one word was sufficient. She smiled contentedly, now that she had experimental proof that the comments by her head of laboratory had turned out to be fruitful.
