Sir Charles Frank, who died on 5th April after a brief illness, just one month into his 88th year, was one of this century's scientific geniuses. Equally at home in physics and chemistry, his original ideas advanced our knowledge in fields as diverse as the physics of earthquakes, the growth of crystals (from diamonds to ice), the strength of polymers, and the molecular alignments within liquid crystals; other pioneering studies included even cold fusion (back in 1947!). Born in Durban, South Africa, on 6th March 1911, of English parents, he came back with them to their home county, Suffolk, when only a few weeks old, later attending Thetford Grammar School and Ipswich Grammar School. He went up to Lincoln College, Oxford, obtaining his B.A. and B.Sc. in 1933 and D.Phil in 1937. Then followed a couple of years at the Kaiser Wilhelm Institut für Physik in Berlin. These had a lifelong influence; they also furnished him with fluent German, soon to prove useful.
R.V.Jones, Frank's contemporary, and oldest and closest friend (who died but a few months ago) gives us a picture of the youthful Frank in his book 'Most Secret War'. Jones succeeded in extracting Frank from the Chemical Defence Research Establishment, Porton, to join him in Scientific Intelligence at the Air Ministry in November 1940. Thus commenced a remarkable six-year partnership. Jones' book abounds with tributes to Frank's acute powers of observation and interpretation. Frank would recognise significant pin-point detail on an RAF reconnaissance photo that others had missed, and he could swiftly and correctly piece together fragmentary or garbled messages such as those percolating through concerning the coming V-weapons. One example must suffice. As German radar pushed to shorter wavelengths, its antennae could get smaller and more difficult to spot from the air. On an aerial photo of the grounds of a large villa above the chalk cliffs on the French coast at Bruneval Frank noticed a track that stopped short of the villa, making a loop round a tiny blob. What was it? Low-level photos revealed the blob to be the paraboloid antenna of the much-sought Würzburg 53 cm radar. That prompted the successful British parachute raid of 27/28 February 1942, which captured the apparatus intact.
In 1946 Frank joined the H.H.Wills Physics Laboratory, University of Bristol, under its then Director, Professor Nevill Mott, who encouraged Frank to look into problems concerned with crystal growth and the plastic deformation of metallic crystals when mechanically loaded. Frank's talent for 3-dimensional visualisation coupled with precise geometrical reasoning led him to spectacular progress in both quests. This resulted from his inspired insight into the properties of a type of crystal lattice building error known as a 'dislocation'. A stream of successes in applications of crystal-dislocation theory by Frank and his collaborators filled the decade from 1949, and established his scientific fame. This theoretical work has been the foundation of researches by hundreds, if not thousands, of scientists of all nationalities ever since, and continues to guide practice in the metallurgical and semiconductor industries.
To find out how beautiful little crystals can be formed by the folding up and packing together of strands of long-chain polymer molecules, each strand much longer than the crystal's dimensions, challenged Frank to enter the field of polymer science. From the late l950s right up to the present, analysing the properties of polymeric materials, and inventing new ways of controlling them, has been a major focus of Frank's attention. From the microscopic world of interpretation of electron diffraction patterns to the large-scale world of geophysics Frank's theoretical insights have inspired a wealth of productive research. Many of Frank's original ideas possess elegant simplicity. Here just one, from geophysics, will be singled out because Frank himself was pleased with it. This explained the curvature of Island Arcs (Nature, 1968) by analogy with the circular shape of the dimple formed when one presses into the unstretching shell of a ping-pong ball.
Frank worked effectively for educational, cultural and charitable bodies locally, and for scientific organisations on the national and international scale. He joined the 'Pugwash' movement, launched by Bertrand Russell and Nobel Prize Laureates, Cecil Powell and Joseph Rotblat, which strove to alert nations to the dangers of nuclear weapons proliferation.
Frank's abilities and achievements earned the OBE 1946, FRS 1954, a knighthood 1977, Vice-Presidency of the Royal Society 1967-69, the Society's Royal Medal in 1979 and its premier award, the Copley Medal, in 1994. He received many honorary degrees from British and overseas universities, and prestigious medals and awards from learned organisations around the world, including the Gregori Aminoff medal in 1981 from the Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences.
What of the man in daily life? Here are a few impressions. First, his was a mind that worked with immense energy and efficiency; while others fumbled Frank would get to the heart of a problem and enunciate its solution with the exactitude of well-drafted legislation. Truth in science was prized above all by Frank; error in interpretation of evidence was firmly pointed out, whatever the rank of its perpetrator. Unprejudiced evaluation of observations, with meticulous attention to detail, and no neglect of features unexplained, provided a model for cohorts of younger workers to emulate. Equally inspiring was Frank's sense of duty in whatever task he undertook. It is inconceivable that Frank could say to a puzzled student, "I'm busy today. Come back tomorrow". Long hours would he spend tirelessly tutoring young research workers.
Frank's prodigious memory was legendary; his precise recall of facts and figures relevant in a discussion outmatched all, and key data could be coralled from distant fields. For Frank, science was indivisible. Conversation with him might land on any subject under the sun, and was always lively, instructive and enjoyable, sometimes partaking in friendly competition to see who could impart more facts to the other.
When, at long last, in February 1992 the then Lord Chancellor allowed public release of transcripts of secretly recorded conversations between 10 eminent German scientists detained at Farm Hall, near Cambridge, from July to December 1945 (during which period the first nuclear bombs were dropped), there immediately arose the risk of partial publication, the presenting of only certain bits to the public, from partisan, sensationalist or just commercial motives. It was speedily agreed that publication must be in toto. Frank was eminently qualified to direct this enterprise. Dutifully he took on the responsibility, executing it with characteristic thoroughness and efficiency. With its scholarly introduction and notes, 'Operation Epsilon: The Farm Hall Transcripts' ( 1993) is a model publication of its type.
Charles Frank is survived by his wife, Maita, whom he married in 1940. There were no children. Noteworthy over the years has been Maita's bountiful hospitality, her many contributions to the social life of the Physics Department and University, and her enthusiastic participation in Charles Frank's non-scientific pursuits, especially gardening.
Obituary prepared by Emeritus Professor A. R. Lang
Editor's Note: Although Sir Charles Frank was not a BCA member,
he made significant contributions to our subject so I thought members would
be interested to read this obituary.
An edited version appeared in The Daily Telegraph on April 23 1998.
Other obituaries were published in The Times on April 27 and
The Independent on April 15 1998.
Click here to return to BCA homepage