And how many such American and Soviet missions to Mars have failed? Want to hazard a guess? It's quite a few. Some American probes lost contact with Earth - like Britain's Beagle 2.
America's Mars Climate Orbiter in 1998 crashed on the Martian surface due to metric-imperial mix-up (they should have stuck to imperial).
America's Mars Polar Lander and Deep Space 2 both crashed-landed on the surface due to improper hardware testing. That was fairly embarassing.
In fact, failures in missions to Mars are common. As of 2010, of 38 launch attempts to reach the planet, only 19 - exactly half of them - have succeeded. Failures are attributed to the
Yet, for some reason, you focus on just one British craft and ignore the other 18.
So do we.
17 August 2013
Daily Mail
Colonial grandeur still dominates the skyline. An old cannon points its weather-beaten barrel across the Strait of Gibraltar. Up on the huge rock above, the sleepy ancient fortress is still manned by the Armed Forces. Down below, locals and tourists seek shade in the little cafes or head for the beach.
It’s easy to forget that just a couple of miles down the road is the heavily fortified frontier that cuts this contented little peninsular off from the rest of the continent. But as far as the locals are concerned, this is their patch of soil. They say they will never be forced to hand it over to the vast, brooding nation to which they are attached by a narrow bit of land. That would be, well, completely undemocratic.
‘We are Spanish to the death!’ says retired fisherman Andre Leon, 77, sitting beneath a tree in the centre of Ceuta, the resolutely Spanish territory on the northern tip of Morocco, where he was born and bred.
'We are Spanish to the death!' says retired fisherman Andre Leon, 77, sitting beneath a tree in the centre of Ceuta, the resolutely Spanish territory on the northern tip of Morocco, where he was born and bred
It’s a nice enough spot, with ancient monuments and air-conditioned shopping plazas. And it neatly illustrates the ocean-going Spanish hypocrisy to be found on either side of the 18-mile stretch of water separating Europe and Africa.
For, just across one of the world’s busiest seaways, we find the 30,000 British citizens of Gibraltar enduring threats, siege conditions and even physical abuse from a clapped-out Spanish regime mired in a slush-fund corruption scandal. The centre-Right People’s Party hopes to divert the attentions of a disgusted Spanish electorate by shouting the oldest war cry in the book: ‘Give us back Gibraltar!’
Yet try to point out Spain’s own string of post-colonial possessions on the African coast, such as Ceuta — clearly visible on Gibraltar’s horizon — and the response is a furious outburst of sanctimonious shrieking, table-thumping and general spilling of Rioja. ‘That is completely different,’ declares Spanish officialdom, citing a 15th-century legal technicality.
You only need to spend a few days, as I have this week, on both sides of the strait to realise Spain isn’t just in breach of both the letter and spirit of European law with its current harassment of Gibraltar. It’s also guilty of the most brazen double standards. In short, Spain wants to have its paella, eat it, get someone else to pay for it and thump anyone who argues.
Little wonder the people of Gibraltar are preparing the warmest of welcomes for the Royal Navy frigate, HMS Westminster, when she docks on Monday as part of a routine exercise.
‘As soon as someone spots her on the horizon, we’ll have boats out to greet her,’ says Gareth Gingell from a local community action group called The Defenders of Gibraltar.
Foreign Office mandarins and high-brow British commentators may wince at the vulgar jingoism of it all. Why should a tiny tax haven be allowed to sour Britain’s relations with Spain?
As one Guardian (left-wing paper) columnist put it this week, places like Gibraltar are nothing more than ‘Churchillian theme parks of red pillar boxes, fish and chips and warm beer’.
Gibraltar yesterday unveiled designs for a new £20 silver coin featuring Churchill and the words ‘We shall never surrender’ (it had been planned for months).
This is a place so wedded to the British way of life that two juggernauts leave Britain every day just to stock the Gib branch of Morrisons. This week, the Gibraltarian government announced production of the world’s first stamp commemorating the birth of Prince George.
If you try to point out Spain's own string of post-colonial possessions on the African coast, such as Ceuta, the response is a furious outburst of sanctimonious shrieking (Robert Hardman pictured)
Yet such patriotism is scoffed at by sophisticated, Europhile bien-pensants for whom it is always ‘silly old Britain’ rather than her adversary that is clinging obsessively to the past.
This is the classic, arrogant perspective of the grand appeaser who has not had to endure hour after hour, day after day, sitting in 30c heat at the whim of a latter-day mini-Franco in the Spanish foreign ministry. Many of the people I find queuing stoically at the frontier happen to be Spanish, since Gibraltar employs 10,000 people from a part of Spain with more than 30 per cent unemployment.
Edward Macquisten of the Gibraltar Chamber of Commerce points out that the region has Gib to thank for one in six jobs. Spain is punishing its own.
In recent days, though, Madrid has ordered its commissars on the Gibraltar border to make life as miserable as possible for that pesky rock, with its full employment, its fish and chips, its low taxes, its photos of the Queen and its squeaky-clean little government.