The Spies Of Peenemunde

Ahhh yes — that proud little “2/6” on the cover. Not a mysterious code. Not a spy signal. Not a chapter number. Just good old two shillings and sixpence — the price in proper pre-decimal British money. In other words: half a crown. In modern currency? About 12½p. Which, sadly, is not what you’re charging today.

Right. Let’s do this properly.

The Spies of Peenemünde (1959)
Don Betteridge
Corgi Books
ISBN: none (because barcodes were for the future)
Condition: Fair
As sold by Crappy Old Books

Here we have Cold War paperback drama in its purest, most deliciously pulp form. Rockets. Spies. Suspicion. A man in a trench coat who looks permanently five seconds away from either lighting a cigarette or betraying someone. And looming over it all — Peenemünde, that very real German rocket site whose name alone sounds like it should be whispered.

The cover does most of the shouting for you: sleek missile, noir lighting, a woman who knows things, and that magnificent “2/6” price circle at the top — a relic from when international intrigue cost less than a Mars bar. It’s a wonderful historical footnote. Once upon a time you could buy atomic-age paranoia for half a crown.

You cannot anymore.

Now you must pay slightly more than 12½p for your espionage, but rest assured: inflation has not dulled the drama.

Inside, this is classic late-1950s spy fiction — brisk, tense, utterly convinced that secrets are hidden in plain sight and that every conversation in a café could alter the balance of global power. The rockets aren’t metaphorical. The danger isn’t abstract. The Cold War hums quietly beneath every page like a radio tuned just slightly off frequency.

Betteridge writes in that efficient, no-nonsense style that suggests men carry dossiers in their inside pockets and women can outwit entire ministries with a raised eyebrow. There will be suspicion. There will be coded messages. There may be a hurried departure in the night. Nobody ever just “walks” anywhere — they move cautiously.

And the Fair condition? Perfect, frankly. A 1959 Corgi spy paperback should not look factory-fresh. It should look like it has travelled by train, been read under dim lamps, and perhaps bent slightly during a moment of suspense. The wear adds atmosphere. This is a book that has done its rounds.

That 2/6 circle remains on the cover as a charming reminder that once upon a time the world’s secrets were affordable. Now it’s a collectible slice of mid-century tension, complete with period typography and a whiff of trench-coat seriousness.

Buy it for the pulp.
Buy it for the rockets.
Buy it for the sheer joy of seeing “2/6” and realising you are holding a tiny, dramatic piece of Britain before decimalisation.

Half a crown in 1959.
A small fortune in atmosphere today.

Keep browsing: See more Thrillers books Other books by Don Betteridge