Holy Sizzling Soldering Irons, Batman!

One of my favorite TV programs when I was a kid was Batman, starring Adam West as Bruce Wayne (Batman) and Burt Ward as Dick Grayson (Robin). In addition to Batman and Robin, the “good guys” included Commissioner Gordon, Chief O’Hara, Aunt Harriet, and Alfred the butler.

Meanwhile, Batman had more than his fair share of arch enemies, including Cat Woman, The Joker, The Riddler, The Penguin, Egghead, Bookworm, and False-Face, to name but a few.

Each episode was around 25 minutes long, excluding adverts. Hmmm, now that I think about it, the episodes were substantially shorter than this, because they almost invariably ended on a cliffhanger, with the narrator explaining the particulars of the pickle the dynamic duo found themselves in. Contrariwise, at the start of the next episode, the narrator would remind us of how we’d left things and how dire the situation was, barely leaving time for our heroes to escape, capture the bad guys, and plunge themselves into a new predicament.

I especially enjoyed the fights, which were enhanced by cartoon graphic text superimposed over the scene, saying things like “Biff,” “Pow,” and “Zap.” Happily, these days, we can all fritter away an inordinate amount of time browsing some of the highlights on YouTube.

I remember The Riddler leaving riddles like, “Why is a catfish like a banana?” Then, by means of a tortuously convoluted explanation, Batman would somehow dissect this clue and deduce something along the lines that there was going to be a bank robbery on the corner of 6th Street and 9th Avenue on Wednesday morning at 10:00 a.m. Meanwhile, Robin would play his part by constantly interjecting fatuous exclamations, like “Holy socks, Batman,” “Holy exploding sharks, Batman,” and — on one never-to-be-forgotten occasion — "Holy priceless collection of Etruscan snoods, Batman.”

I must admit that while I’ve occasionally managed to employ “Holy socks, Batman” to comic effect, I’ve yet to find a way to work "Holy priceless collection of Etruscan snoods, Batman” into the conversation, but I live in hopes that that day will come.

Well, that explains the origin of the title to this column, but what of the column itself? I was just coming to that, so if you will take a seat (and a deep breath) and make yourself comfortable, we’ll begin.

I find it sad that many students of electronics and electrical engineering graduate without ever learning how to solder or having only minimal hands-on experience. Today’s university programs often focus heavily on theory, encompassing topics such as control systems, digital signal processing, and circuit analysis. While this knowledge is foundational, it’s often taught with simulations and software rather than hands-on physical construction.

Personally, I believe that knowing how to solder deepens our understanding of how circuits really behave, is crucial for debugging and prototyping, sets us apart in job interviews, increases our value at small companies or startups, and connects us to the rich tradition of electronics as a craft.

As an aside, if you’re interested in learning how to solder, may I be so bold as to recommend The Basic Soldering Guide Handbook, which was written by my friend Alan Winstanley. No prior knowledge is assumed, and it’s jam-packed with oodles of awesome color photos that make everything crystal clear.

And we’re back! My dear old dad didn’t have an engineering bone in his body, but he did work at an engineering company in a non-engineering role. One day, circa 1969, when I was around 12 years old, after Dad became aware of my growing interest in electronics, he asked around at work. One of the engineers gave Dad an old soldering iron, along with some flux and solder, for him to pass on to me.

This wasn’t an electric soldering iron, although those were indeed available at that time (the first electric soldering iron patents appeared around the early 1900s, but these devices didn’t become widely used until after WWII, and mass adoption didn’t start until the late 1960s and early 1970s).

No, my first soldering iron was a traditional copper bit soldering iron, also known as a copper slug iron. These involved a solid block or wedge of copper attached to one end of an iron or steel shaft. The heat-resistant wooden handle at the other end was often bound with a leather strip to provide a better grip.

Just to give you an idea of what I’m talking about, I asked my friend Rick Curl if he knew anyone who had one of these so I could get a photo. Rick is a member of the Alabama Historical Radio Society (AHRS), and he was good enough to spread the word. It wasn’t long before another member, Dee Haynes, kindly sent me some pictures of such an iron from his personal collection. All I can say is that this looks just how I remember my own iron from yesteryear.

These irons were heated on an open flame (e.g., gas stove, blowtorch, or coal fire). The copper held heat well, allowing enough time to melt solder between reheats. Users had to work fast, as the copper cooled quickly. Reheating cycles were frequent, so many people kept two irons, alternating between heating and use.

The copper tip had to be regularly cleaned, reshaped with a file, and “tinned” with solder to prevent oxidation and improve thermal transfer. This kind of soldering was very physical, very smoky, and extremely satisfying when you got a good joint, which wasn’t a common occurrence when I started out (I got a lot better with practice).

By this time, I was building (well, attempting to build) simple projects from my Practical Electronics and Practical Wireless magazines. I remember heating the end of my iron over a ring on my mum’s gas cooking stove in our kitchen until it was red hot, then racing upstairs into my bedroom to solder as many joints as possible before the iron cooled down, which wasn’t long.

Take a moment to look at the picture above once again. Now, try to imagine using this to solder electronic components, like transistors, resistors, capacitors, and simple 7400-series TTL integrated circuits (ICs). It’s a wonder I got anything to work at all.

Looking back, I now realize how dangerous this could have been. It would have been easy to trip on the stairs and burn myself on my iron or potentially set fire to myriad things throughout our house. On the bright side, learning how to solder certainly gave me a lot of healthy exercise.

It's funny how you can sometimes “second-guess” yourself. While I was writing this column, I started to wonder if I’d gotten “the wrong end of the iron,” as it were. Remember that my dad wasn’t technical. Maybe he had made a mistake. Perhaps the iron he gave me wasn’t actually intended for electronics work at all.

First, I had a quick Google while no one was looking. Happily, I discovered that irons of this type were used for electrical work, plumbing, tinplate soldering, and metal repairs. As one source succinctly said, “They were the go-to tool for everything from crystal radios to car bodywork.”

Also, while on a conference call with my friend Joe Farr in England, I mentioned that I was writing this column. Joe responded that his grandfather had been a radio operator in the British Merchant Navy during World War II, and that he had multiple irons of this type, with different sizes and different-shaped tips for various tasks.

So, what do you think about all this? As always, I welcome your captivating comments, querulous questions, and sagacious suggestions, all of which you can present on Hackster's "Throwback Thursday" Discord channel. I look forward to seeing you there.

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