Hello, History Captains!
You know what's wild about history? The most pivotal moments often happen when you least expect them. Take this week of September: In 1940, the London Blitz began as German bombers launched their sustained assault on Britain's capital, marking the start of 57 consecutive nights of bombing that would test British resolve and change the course of World War II; in 1814, Francis Scott Key penned "The Star-Spangled Banner" after witnessing the British bombardment of Fort McHenry during the War of 1812, creating the poem that would become America's national anthem; and on September 11, 1973, Chilean military forces led by General Augusto Pinochet overthrew the democratically elected government of Salvador Allende, ending Latin America's longest-running democracy and ushering in 17 years of military dictatorship. History loves throwing curveballs that seem random in the moment but change everything. So if you enjoy this trip through time, make sure to share it with a friend :)
Close Calls: Split-Second Decisions That Nearly Rewrote History
The U-2 Pilot Who Almost Started World War III On October 27th, 1962—at the absolute peak of the Cuban Missile Crisis—U-2 pilot Major Rudolf Anderson was conducting a routine surveillance mission over Cuba when he accidentally drifted into Soviet airspace over Siberia. Soviet MiG fighters scrambled to intercept what they believed was a prelude to American attack, while U.S. F-102 interceptors armed with nuclear air-to-air missiles rushed to escort Anderson back. For nearly an hour, nuclear-armed fighters from both superpowers flew within striking distance of each other as the world unknowingly balanced on the precipice of global thermonuclear war—all because of a navigation error during history's most dangerous diplomatic standoff.
The Sonar Ping That Nearly Launched Armageddon On October 27th, 1962, Soviet submarine B-59 lay trapped beneath the Caribbean, out of radio contact and unaware that nuclear war hadn't already begun. When U.S. destroyers began dropping practice depth charges to force the submarine to surface, the crew believed they were under attack. Deputy Brigade Commander Captain Ivan Savitsky ordered the submarine's nuclear torpedo to be prepared for launch against the American fleet. Soviet naval protocol required unanimous agreement from three senior officers—and while two agreed, Deputy Brigade Chief of Staff Captain Vasily Arkhipov refused. His single "no" vote prevented a nuclear strike that would have instantly escalated the Cuban Missile Crisis into World War III.
The Boeing 777 That Almost Caused Aviation's Worst Disaster On July 7th, 2017, Air Canada Flight 759 approached San Francisco International Airport in thick fog when the pilots lined up with the wrong target—not the runway, but a parallel taxiway packed with four fully-loaded passenger aircraft waiting for takeoff. The massive Boeing 777 descended to just 59 feet above the taxiway, its landing lights illuminating the aircraft below as nearly 1,000 passengers and crew faced imminent catastrophe. Only a last-second go-around command prevented what would have been aviation history's deadliest accident, caused by a simple case of mistaken identity in low visibility conditions.
In This Weeks Episode:
The Empire That Never Ended
The Diplomat Who Defied Death
The Empire That Never Ended
1815: The muddy fields of Belgium stretch endlessly under a gray June sky as Napoleon Bonaparte surveys his troops one final time, knowing that victory here could restore his dominion over a continent that had dared to defy him. In our timeline, that fateful Sunday at Waterloo became his final defeat—Wellington's squares held firm, Blücher's Prussians arrived in time, and the Emperor who had conquered most of Europe found himself bound for exile on a distant Atlantic island. But what if Marshal Ney's cavalry had broken the British lines? What if Grouchy had prevented the Prussian reinforcements from reaching the battlefield? The world that emerged from a victorious Napoleon would have followed a radically different path toward modernity—one where French eagles cast their shadows across continents and the age of empire took an entirely different form.
The Napoleon of 1815 wasn't the young general who had seized power in 1799; he was a seasoned emperor testing whether his revolutionary empire could survive the combined opposition of monarchical Europe. Without defeat at Waterloo to end his ambitions permanently, Napoleon would have negotiated from a position of unprecedented strength, forcing Britain into an unfavorable peace and cementing French hegemony across the continent. The Congress of Vienna's careful balance of power would have crumbled, replaced by a Napoleonic system that treated European kingdoms as vassals rather than independent states. The restored Bourbon monarchy would have fled France once again, this time permanently, while Napoleon's marshals would have governed a continental empire stretching from Spain to Poland.
But the most intriguing possibilities lie in what this alternate Napoleonic Europe might have achieved through continued French dominance rather than the fragmented nationalism that actually emerged. Without British naval supremacy going unchallenged, the Royal Navy's campaign against the slave trade might never have gained momentum, potentially delaying abolition across European colonies by decades. The Industrial Revolution, centered in Britain, could have spread more slowly without the competitive pressure that defeat at Waterloo ultimately created. Economic development across Europe might have followed the centralized French model rather than the diverse paths that national independence encouraged.
Yet this stability would have created tensions that make our modern conflicts seem manageable. Without Napoleon's defeat to discredit military adventurism, how long would European peace have lasted under French dominance? The spirit of nationalism that his earlier victories had awakened wouldn't have disappeared—it would have festered under imperial rule, potentially creating even more explosive conflicts when change finally came. German and Italian unification, delayed by continued French interference, might have emerged through far bloodier struggles than the wars that actually created those nations. The British Empire, checked in Europe but still controlling the seas, would have faced a continental rival with both the resources and motivation to challenge English global supremacy at every turn.
Recently discovered French military archives suggest Napoleon's tactical situation at Waterloo was more favorable than previously known, with several critical decisions that could have changed the battle's outcome, indicating how narrow the margin between empire and exile really was.
What's Your Take on History's Greatest Gamble? Could a world with continued Napoleonic dominance have evolved into a more unified, prosperous Europe, or would preventing this imperial collapse have made later democratic transformations more violent and destructive? Hit reply with your thoughts. We're genuinely curious which timeline you think would have better served humanity's long struggle between order and freedom.
The Diplomat Who Defied Death
In the winter of 1944, Swedish diplomat Raoul Wallenberg steps off a train in Budapest to find a city transformed into a killing field. Hungarian Jews are being herded into ghettos, their yellow stars marking them for deportation to Auschwitz. The Nazi war machine is operating at peak efficiency, and time is running out for Hungary's remaining Jewish population. Wallenberg does something that will define his legacy and cost him his life: he chooses to stand between the machinery of genocide and its intended victims.
The Swedish Foreign Ministry's orders are pragmatic—provide humanitarian assistance within diplomatic bounds, maintain neutrality, avoid unnecessary risks. Following protocol would mean issuing a few dozen protective documents, filing reports, and watching from the safety of diplomatic immunity as the Holocaust consumed its final major Jewish community.
A Race Against Extermination
But Wallenberg sees what his government cannot: cattle cars filling with human beings, children torn from parents' arms, an entire people facing systematic annihilation. He knows that diplomatic caution means complicity in mass murder.
What follows are the most audacious months in humanitarian history. While Adolf Eichmann's deportation machinery grinds forward, Wallenberg transforms his diplomatic mission into a rescue operation of unprecedented scale. He hand-designs "protective passports" that look official enough to fool Nazi bureaucrats, establishes safe houses under the Swedish flag, and personally confronts SS officers at deportation sites.
His creativity becomes legendary: bribing officials, threatening German officers with post-war prosecution, even climbing onto deportation trains to hand out protective documents through the windows. When Hungarian fascists threaten to storm his safe houses, Wallenberg stands in their path, his diplomatic immunity the only shield protecting thousands of terrified refugees.
Breaking Rules, Saving Souls
By war's end, Wallenberg's defiance had saved an estimated 100,000 Jewish lives—the largest rescue operation carried out by a single individual during the Holocaust. Entire communities exist today because one diplomat chose moral courage over career safety.
The protective passports he issued became symbols of hope in humanity's darkest hour—documents that transformed hunted refugees into Swedish citizens, at least on paper, creating islands of safety in an ocean of death.
A Snapshot of 1944: When Wallenberg Stood Firm
When Wallenberg arrived in Budapest, Europe was witnessing the Holocaust's final, most frenzied phase:
Hungarian Jews faced deportation rates of 12,000 per day to Auschwitz
The Arrow Cross party had seized power, unleashing unprecedented brutality against Jewish civilians
Soviet forces were approaching Budapest, creating chaos that accelerated Nazi killing operations
The Disappearance That Haunts History
Wallenberg's rescue mission ended when Soviet forces captured Budapest in January 1945. Rather than liberation, his encounter with Soviet authorities led to his arrest and disappearance into the Gulag system. Official Soviet records claim he died in Lubyanka prison in 1947, but conflicting testimony and classified documents have never revealed his true fate.
For decades, families of Holocaust survivors have searched for answers about the man who saved their relatives. Was he executed as a spy? Did he survive years in Soviet camps? The silence surrounding his disappearance adds tragic irony to his story—the man who rescued so many vanished without a trace.
His story reminds us that heroism often means impossible choices—choosing what's right over what's safe, human dignity over institutional loyalty, moral courage over personal survival.
"I came to save a nation," Wallenberg told a friend before departing for Budapest, capturing the extraordinary sense of purpose that drove his mission.
Check out this powerful documentary below
Some Great History Resources
If you’re a teacher or parent and would like to find an engaging way to teach history, check out History Unboxed Here!