'Steve Zodiac's number is not in the phone book...'

Obsessing over Fireball XL5: 1963-1970

'Lieutenant Ninety, have you seen this week's TV Times?'

Amongst my earliest memories is a recollection of being brought downstairs to see Fireball XL5 on television. It was early in 1963, some time after 7pm, which, at barely two years of age, was past my bedtime. Nevertheless, I was brought downstairs just so that I could see Fireball XL5. It might have been the first episode: a logical assumption, I suppose. I can imagine my parents watching it and thinking it might appeal to me, despite it being shown at such an unusually late hour. In fact, from Fireball XL5 through to Thunderbirds, Gerry Anderson’s series tended to get their first run in this prime family viewing slot, courtesy of parent company ATV who had stumped up the money to pay for the series in the first place, and weren't about to let it get hidden away amongst the likes of Fred Barker and Ollie Beak during children's hour...

I have no idea how much of Fireball XL5 I was allowed to see on that or any other night during its first run; it didn’t matter a great deal, for the series would return for a repeat run the following year at the child-friendly hour of 5.25. Between then (mid-1964) and the summer of 1966, Fireball XL5 was rarely off the air, and was soon sharing the schedules with new arrivals Stingray and Thunderbirds (Supercar, Gerry Anderson’s earlier effort, had by this time gone missing in action). By the autumn of 1965, all three series could be seen in the space of a single week, and while Thunderbirds had debuted in the 7.00pm slot, three Supermarionation series in the space of five days’ of children’s programming must have seemed rather a lot. Not to me, of course. Given the chance, I’d have cleared the schedules to make room for more. But it had been noticed by the decision-makers at ITV.

I have it on good authority that ATV were told in no uncertain terms that the constant, heavy rotation of the Supermarionation series had to stop. With more in the pipeline, the schedules were in danger of becoming a live-action free zone, and ATV were simply enjoying too big a slice of the children’s programming cake (which was no doubt shaped like Thunderbird 2...) None of this would matter to me, except that, in a strange way, it does. I’d grown accustomed to seeing my favourite series on a regular basis, Fireball XL5 especially; but sometime during 1966, the endless repeats of Fireball came to an end. I can actually remember seeing the very last episode, after noticing it listed in that day’s edition of the Daily Sketch. It might even have been a one-off. Either way, the episode was Space Magnet: despite having been the fourth to be filmed, this instalment was habitually shown last of all, and its tag scene of Steve Zodiac and Venus gazing up at a full moon probably felt like a nice way to wrap up the series. The image remained in my mind – it was to be my last encounter with Fireball XL5 for a surprisingly long time.

The late 1960s became a Fireball-free zone. Up to now, despite enjoying the series, I probably hadn’t given it that much thought. It always seemed to be on television, and I was too young to notice that it was the just same episodes turning up time and again. I’d been bought some toys and books based on the series, and the books – a series of four annuals published between 1963 and 1966 – provided a Fireball fix during the brief interludes when the series not being broadcast. The first of these annuals was already looking the worse for wear, having lost its covers and a few inner pages within about a year of its arrival. This would become a key factor in what happened next...

By 1967 or 68, I was starting to notice the absence of Fireball XL5 on television, and began turning more often to the old annuals. I had a dim recollection of the missing covers for the first edition; then, at a school summer fete, I chanced upon a copy on the second hand book stall. I’d have had it like a shot, but our mum didn’t like the idea of bringing second hand books into the house. I mean, it could have been anywhere, might be harbouring unthinkable diseases, bookworms, mites. I had to let it pass: then, within half an hour or so, I saw the same volume being carried around by another child whose parents were less fussy than mine.

That did it... something snapped. For the next three years or more, I would become increasingly fixated on Fireball XL5. It was my first nostalgia trip, and by no means the last. At the age of six or seven, I could barely remember the programmes themselves, and no amount of poring over the annuals could make up for the experience of actually watching an episode: the music, the voices, the lighting. I later deduced that it was not so much the programme per se that I had responded to, but its aesthetic: a kind of noirish, low-lit version of outer space, with visuals steeped in the look of the 1960s. The space ship itself, though relatively conventional, always impressed me as a design, and I liked Steve Zodiac’s uniform so much that I managed to convince my mum to run me up an outfit using the red material from an old anorak. Penance, if you will, for what had happened at the school fete. Like the Gerry Anderson equivalent of sewing mailbags...

Quite early on, I’d been sort of convinced that Fireball XL5 was all going to happen for real. Of course, I knew it was just puppets, but there seemed no earthly reason why there shouldn’t be a real Steve Zodiac flying the actual Fireball XL5 from a real-life Space City. By the year 2062, anything was possible (I conveniently overlooked the fact that I’d be 101 years old by that time – anyway, we’d probably all live forever in the future...) Now, I knew Steve Zodiac was not a real person, but I was interested to know if there was actually anybody with the surname Zodiac, which even as a child I found a little far-fetched. If he was going to exist in the future, his ancestors would be around today. And, honestly, I looked in the Birmingham telephone directory under Z. Because Steve Zodiac’s ancestors must have been Brummies, mustn’t they? There weren’t many entries... but there was a Zodiac: Zodiac Toys, a listing for a shop (this was in the days before the Yellow Pages). Now, I wasn’t daft enough to imagine that Steve Zodiac’s great grandfather could be running a toy shop, but I’d looked into the matter and made a minor discovery: there was a Zodiac in the phone book. But it was probably best not to ring up and ask for a ride in Fireball XL5...

The mania for Fireball was well set in by 1970: photographs from that year’s holiday reveal that I had taken my plastic toy Fireball along with me. But salvation was just around the corner, for in the autumn came the news I’d been waiting for. Opening the TV Times for the week of 12-18 September revealed that Fireball was set to return, the day after the debut of Gerry Anderson’s latest offering, the new, live-action UFO. Somebody at ATV probably felt that Anderson’s earlier space effort might make a good companion piece. Either that, or they were being sarcastic. It didn’t matter: Fireball was back, along with a brand-new series to enjoy. I’m not sure if this set a dangerous precedent for a nine-year-old child: wish hard enough for something and it will turn up in the end. Either way, it worked. And it wouldn’t be the last time, either...