Chapter III: Part 3

In this connection, too, the fact must be remembered that, whereas a wrecked aeroplane would represent a comparatively small financial loss, the destruction of a dirigible would be as great a calamity as the loss of a whole aeroplane fleet.

The expenses entailed in organising a dirigible balloon fleet are enormous, and altogether out of proportion to the useful work which these vessels could accomplish in time of war.

If an airship service is to be of practical value, monster sheds must be erected all over the country, so that a vessel may be able to run to one or other of them for shelter, when caught in a high wind. Apart from the expenditure which these sheds entail, the need arises to spend other large amounts upon the crews of trained men necessary to handle the aircraft when they leave the ground, or return from a flight.

There is another formidable item—the cost of the hydrogen gas necessary to inflate the huge envelopes; and, added to this, there is constant expenditure in effecting repairs, caused by the trifling accidents which are always occurring in handling these aerial monsters. Thus, a ruinous bill of cost is quickly arrived at.

And, as against all these disadvantages, the airship, as has been shown, has few, if any, definite advantages over the aeroplane. It can remain in the air longer, it is true; and it can, at the moment at any rate, carry heavier loads. But the great size of its envelope has, so far, made it the plaything of any high wind; and its bulk, in addition, renders it apparently impossible to force it through the air at anything like the speed attained by the aeroplane. Under favourable conditions, airship speeds of from thirty to thirty-five miles an hour seem to represent the best results yet attained.

Practical comparisons, between dirigible balloons and aeroplanes, were possible in the famous French manœuvres, in the autumn of 1910, which have been previously referred to. On this occasion, the aeroplanes were out, and at work in gusty winds, when the dirigibles were compelled to remain in their sheds.

And, when the airships did emerge, it was a subject of comment that, in comparison with the aeroplanes, they offered quite an easy mark for gun-fire.

This fact must be remembered, also. In actual warfare, the dirigible balloon would, inevitably, fall a prey to an attack by aeroplane. Aided by their greater speed, and by the fact that they could probably approach quite near to a dirigible without being seen, aeroplanes would be able to rise above its gas-containing envelope, and wreck the craft by dropping a destructive bomb.

Such points as these have, of course, weighed with the experts of Germany and France. Neither country has abandoned research work in regard to dirigibles. It is quite likely, in fact, that further improvements may be made with these machines, which will better fit them for use in warfare. But, at the present time, when any contrast of utility is made, the aeroplane is immeasurably the more practical weapon; and, whereas a limited expenditure upon experimental work with lighter-than-air machines is not to be questioned, it is to the aeroplane corps that any War Department must look for reliable, everyday service in war-time.

IV. Dangers of a policy of "drift"—Experience which money cannot buy—Trained men, not so much as machines, the criterion of strength.

In connection with military airmanship, there is no policy more dangerous than that which may be summed up in the word, "drift."

It must be admitted that, until quite recently, the official policy in England, as regards the war aeroplane, could thus be summarised:

There is no danger in shirking the responsibility of a definite aerial programme—despite the strides made abroad—because a fleet of war aeroplanes can be bought or constructed at any time, should urgent need arise.

It was not a policy such as this that the Admiralty pursued in connection with submarines. Here was a new and untried addition to naval armament Without hesitating, or waiting while some other country proved its value in actual tests, the Admiralty used common sense, and spent money willingly upon a fleet of submarines. A full test of their use, in actual naval warfare, has yet to be made; but the experimental nature of the machines has not deterred the Admiralty from making definite advancement with them.

Had the War Office pursued such a policy as this in regard to aeroplanes, we should now have a fleet of aircraft as large as that of any other nation.

It is an undignified attitude to watch other nations at work upon the aeroplane problem, without spending money, and then to step in at the last moment, and profit by their experience.

From the point of view of strict economy, and setting all other considerations aside, such a policy might find acceptance, were it not for circumstances over which those who advocate it have no control.

At any moment, for instance, while one country is waiting for another to evolve an ideal aeroplane, a war may break out. In such an event, a cheese-paring policy would place its advocates in an awkward position. Even granting that they were using experimental machines, the nation which actually possessed a well-equipped aerial fleet, at the outbreak of hostilities, would have an immense advantage over the country which did not.

Wars, when they do break out, generally come quickly. There would be little opportunity for a laggard nation to rush together an aerial fleet at the last moment; or, even if it could do so, lack of organisation would render such an air-force practically inoperative.

Even setting aside the danger of war suddenly arising, and assuming that a waiting policy has no immediate risks, the negative programme has another fatal drawback. Even if, at the last moment, large sums of money were expended upon an air-fleet, and there was time to provide both machines and men, the nation which had neglected aviation would still be lacking in the one essential for success.

That essential is experience. No money, however lavishly spent, can buy the experience which France and Germany are obtaining, day by day, in their pioneer work in handling war aeroplanes.

Any form of aerial work is new to man; and at first, when he attempts it, he is a fumbler. He has no confidence in himself, and so he makes mistakes. But, if he is given an opportunity of being in the air a good deal, and has a chance of handling aircraft, not once or twice, but practically all day long, for months on end, he becomes, gradually, quite accustomed to his work.

Instead of being anxious, and inclined to get into trouble through an excess of caution, he acquires a cool, firm judgment, and soon astonishes even himself by his feeling of security when in the air.

This is the opinion of all skilled airmen; an ounce of practice is worth a ton of theory. How was it that the quiet, unassuming French naval officer, Lieutenant Conneau, was able to win all the great flying prizes during the season of 1911? There is only one answer: he was more experienced than his rivals.

With absolute thoroughness, this man began at the very beginning. He studied the laws of the air first of all; then he made himself acquainted with the construction of machines, and of motors. Afterwards he began to fly. He progressed from stage to stage, with no impatience, or haste.

He undertook cross-country flights to note exactly what climatic conditions prevailed. He studied maps very closely, and tested compasses. He grew accustomed to being in the air; and he learned how to combat adverse winds. He acquired the skill necessary to steer a straight course across country, and to make landings upon all sorts of ground.

And then, so equipped, he entered for the principal long-distance races. Because he was absolutely competent in every way, he astonished everyone by the perfection of his flying. He made no mistakes. He flew correctly from one control to another. He did not fear gusty winds. He did not damage his machine. And so he won.

There are, in the air service of France, many such men as this. Neither France nor Germany, for the matter of that, are content with buying and building machines. These they regard as being experimental, and likely to be superseded by faster, stronger aircraft. What they do consider of vital importance is the steady, irresistible growth in the number of their airmen, and the fact that, every day, these men are becoming more expert in the handling of their machines, and in the carrying out of their duties as pilots and observers.

The lead which France and Germany have obtained in military airmanship should not, indeed, be reckoned so much in machines, as in men; and England’s backwardness should be gauged in a similar way.

In considering the danger of a laggard position in regard to men, rather than machines, a point of great importance arises. It concerns the length of time required to make a military airman thoroughly proficient.

The experience of France and Germany has now proved, fairly definitely, that a completely competent military flyer can only be produced after an arduous period of tuition, and practical tests. It has been laid down, in fact, that to produce a military airman who thoroughly understands his work, a year or eighteen months’ hard training is required. The importance of this point is self-evident. Apathy may place a nation years behind.

A great deal, when the international relations of Europe are concerned, can happen in a year; and it is a perilous thing for any country to be far behind in regard to what is, admittedly, a vitally-important weapon.

Thus it is clear that England cannot hope to make up for a laggard policy even by the expensive method of acquiring aeroplanes, post-haste, at the last moment. We might buy machines, it is true, but we could not buy airmen of the type that France and Germany are rapidly training, in well-organised squadrons.

It has been assumed that machines might be bought in a hurry; but there is some doubt even on this score. Little encouragement has been given to home manufacturers. They would scarcely have facilities for producing machines in large numbers, even if it were a matter of urgency. On the other hand, the makers in France and Germany, always well supported by Government orders, have most complete workshops.

It might easily happen, in a case of urgent need, that we should be compelled to go abroad in an endeavour to obtain machines. In such a case, we might obtain them; or, on the other hand, we might not. Whatever the result, it would be highly unsatisfactory for a country to be dependent upon foreign makers for its war aeroplanes.

In the matter of aeroplane engines, the fact that we have no motor in England to equal the "Gnome" is because no financial support has been forthcoming, in this country, for aviation. To construct a successful engine, means the laying down of a large sum of money in preliminary tests. A number of experimental motors have to be made, and then "scrapped" again. As much as £10,000 may be spent, before success is attained.

In France, with a Government eager to encourage progress, by the practical method of buying machines, men with capital have been found to finance the constructor who has ideas. This is why France has the best motors and the best aeroplanes, and why we have to buy French-built engines and machines.

Instances such as this throw into clear relief the fact that Government apathy, concerning such a new industry as that of building aeroplanes and engines, has an evil effect which is widespread, and lasting.

V. England’s official awakening—The training of 100 airmen—The forthcoming trials of military machines.

Having dealt with England’s backwardness, it is now only fair that the authorities should be given credit for their recent promise of a changed programme.

In the first place, attention may be directed to the official scheme for training a corps of 100 military airmen. This, announced towards the end of last year by Colonel Seely, Parliamentary Under-Secretary of State for War, has already been put into operation in a limited degree.

The officers chosen for aerial work are picked from various regiments. They are allowed to attend any flying school they select, and the authorities pay their tuition fees. When they have passed the tests for their certificates as airmen, they are taken in hand at the military flying school on Salisbury Plain, and are given instruction as military pilots or observers.

When they have attained proficiency in this direction, they return to their regiments, and are afterwards called upon, from time to time, to undergo "refresher" courses of military flying.

The criticism which is levelled against this scheme is that officers should be permanently attached to the air-corps, and should never be allowed to relinquish their flying duties. Experts who hold this view affirm that "refresher" courses are not sufficient to keep a man thoroughly _au fait_ with such special work as military aviation.

As a matter of fact, the relief which has been expressed at the taking up by the War Office of any definite programme, has had the effect of robbing such criticisms as these of their sting. If the plan described were to be adopted as a permanent policy there would, indeed, be grave cause for complaint. French and German military pilots are placed once and for all in the air-corps, and are not withdrawn.

But the scheme of our authorities must only be regarded as a beginning. Directly any really definite work is done, the value of a well-equipped air-corps will be so strikingly demonstrated that there should be little difficulty in extending the Government programme.

The ideal, undoubtedly, is a large and extremely skilful corps of pilots and observers, who do nothing save perfect themselves in their aerial duties. An airman cannot have too much actual flying practice; in every aerial voyage he makes, he learns some useful lesson. The French policy is: once a military airman, always a military airman.

Naturally, with the avowed policy of training these 100 military pilots, the War Office has found it necessary to acquire more machines. From time to time, therefore, since the announcement of this scheme, machines have been bought from famous French firms—notably a Breguet biplane, a Nieuport monoplane, and a Deperdussin monoplane.

But such purchases have only been made to meet the most pressing needs of the flying school. What will precede any large orders for war aeroplanes is a carefully-conducted and stringent test of military machines, which will be thrown open to the world.

The conditions for these trials, which will be held in England under the auspices of the War Office, probably some time in July this year, were issued in December last. Critical comment has granted their practicability, and it is agreed that the successful machines will represent all that is best in military aviation.

One criticism, however, is that the sum of money which will be expended in prizes, £11,000, is not sufficiently generous. In connection with the 1911 French military trials, a sum of more than £50,000 was earmarked by the Government to be expended in prizes, and in orders for successful machines.

But, in the forthcoming English contests, there is no definite financial offer save the £11,000 mentioned. It is stipulated, as a matter of fact, that the War Office shall have the option of purchasing successful machines for a sum of £1000; but there is no guarantee expressed that such purchases shall be made. Of course, it is expected that winning machines will be ordered in certain quantities, and no doubt such will be the policy adopted. But makers cannot count, definitely, upon this being done.

However, moderate though the financial inducements are, there is little doubt but that a satisfactory number of machines will be entered for the tests. English manufacturers, whose inducements to spend money have, in the past, been so few, are determined to make a good show. Both in connection with the main prize, and also in a subsidiary contest for British-built machines, in which the principal award is £1500, the home manufacturers are keen to demonstrate what their machines can do.

Already, it has been proved that English workmanship has nothing to fear from foreign competition. All that the industry in this country lacks is the steady, regular production which is maintained in France. The building of machines teaches lessons which are invaluable. What English manufacturers have not yet been able to acquire, is the confidence, and intimate knowledge of their business, which only come from a healthy state of demand and supply.

The details of the War Office contest have already been so fully discussed that it is only necessary, here, to refer to their principal features. One of the most important requirements is that the aeroplanes should be able to carry a live load of 350 lb., in addition to their equipment of instruments, and raise this weight, as well as sufficient fuel for a four-and-a-half hour’s flight.

A three-hour’s non-stop flight, fully loaded, will be required. Machines will also be called upon to maintain, for an hour’s voyage, a height of 4500 feet. They will, in addition, have to ascend to an altitude of 1000 feet, at the rate of 200 feet a minute.

These requirements are certainly hard to fulfil. A machine, very greatly in advance of anything yet produced, will be needed to pass through such ordeals successfully.

As regards speed, the competing aeroplanes will need to attain a rate of fifty-five miles an hour, when fully loaded. Another requirement is that they should plane down to the ground, in a calm, from a height of not more than 1000 feet, and traverse a horizontal distance of not less than 6000 feet before touching ground. They will be called upon to rise from long grass, clover, or harrowed land in a distance of 100 yards, when fully loaded.

The silencing of engines is to be regarded—and quite rightly—as an important advantage. Minor points are that machines must be easily dismantled; that parts must be interchangeable; and that the observer’s view, from a machine, must be as unobstructed as possible.

The importance of this interesting contest, to be held in England, cannot be over-estimated. It will be a revelation, to all concerned, as to the capabilities of the modern-type, war machine, and should open up a new and satisfactory era in military flying in this country.

_NOTE_

_The aerial programme of the War Office, for the year 1912-13, is dealt with on pages 181-187._

SIXTH SECTION WAR AEROPLANES AT THE PARIS AERONAUTICAL EXHIBITION, DECEMBER, 1911

I. Latest-type military monoplanes—Two-seated, reconnoitring machines—Single-seated, high-speed aircraft.

At the Paris aeroplane _salon_, which marked the close of the aeronautical season of 1911, a striking display of war machines was made. The year, as has been indicated, was full of progress; and the result of all the experience gained was clearly seen in the aircraft exhibited, and particularly in the military monoplanes staged.

As a type, the two-seated scouting machine, capable of high-speed flight for several hours, when carrying pilot and observer, was most interestingly represented. Many difficulties had been overcome in connection with this machine—primarily that of affording the observer a fairly-unobstructed view of the land below. In early-type military monoplanes, the spread of the wings had curtailed seriously the reconnoitring officer’s scope of vision. But, in the monoplanes seen at the Paris show, the wings had been so set back, and the observer’s seat so arranged, that it was possible for him to secure, when in flight, a thoroughly practical, bird’s-eye view of the country below him.

Another problem solved, was in regard to engine-power. In the first instance, with fifty horse-power "Gnomes," two-seated monoplanes had been underengined; and their flying capabilities had suffered in consequence. But the machines built towards the end of 1911 were equipped with seventy horse-power "Gnomes," and—in some instances—with motors of a hundred horse-power. The result was that a reserve of power was obtained, to say nothing of a very desirable increase in speed.

As regards the landing-chassis, a somewhat weak point with early-type, two-seated monoplanes, an improvement was observable in the machines constructed towards the close of the flying season of 1911. Not only had the landing gear been strengthened, but—in many cases—simplified as well, which meant a commendable lessening of head resistance, when in rapid flight. But, in this regard, military critics did not admit that they were altogether satisfied—even by the machines seen at the Paris show. A stronger, more rough-and-ready chassis is demanded; but it must be remembered, in fairness to existing military monoplanes, that they succeeded, in the French trials, in landing upon, and rising from, ground which was fairly rough.

So far as personal comfort is concerned, a point certainly worth consideration in long flights, the latest-type reconnoitring machine reveals interesting features. Pilot and observer are, for example, screened so far as is possible from the rush of wind. Their seats are comfortably placed. Map-holder, compass, engine-revolution indicator, and other fitments are neatly arranged. Dual control has become almost a standard device, thus enabling either occupant of the machine to take charge, while in flight, without change of seats.

Of two-seated, military monoplanes at the Paris exhibition, it is probable that the Nieuport, Blériot, and Deperdussin attracted most serious attention; and genuine interest was also aroused by the lonely prominence of one British exhibit—that of the Bristol passenger monoplane. As definite evidence of the capabilities of this machine, Mr James Valentine had, a day or so prior to the exhibition, piloted, in a flight over Paris, a sister monoplane to that which was shown.

Military authorities, who visited the Paris salon, directed very serious attention to the single-seated, high-speed war monoplanes which were on view. Here is to be found the emergence of a machine of a very definite and important type.

It was with great interest, and some surprise, during the progress of the French military trials, in October, 1911, that those interested in airmanship read of the ordering, by the French authorities, of a large number of single-seated monoplanes. The surprise, it should be mentioned, was occasioned by the fact that single-seated machines should have been purchased just at a time when passenger monoplanes were arousing most interest.

But the French military experts knew their own needs. They had mapped out, for the single-seated, almost racing-type machine, an important field of activity in war-time. They saw that, under actual service conditions, there would be definite demand for a scouting aeroplane which would make a very rapid, general survey of the position of the enemy’s troops.

In such a machine, they decided, speed would be the all-important requirement; and, seeing that the survey to be made would be comprehensive, and not detailed, it was reckoned that the pilot would be able to do all that was required, thereby saving the carrying of a passenger, and enabling greater pace to be obtained.

In several of the single-seated, high-speed monoplanes, as seen at the Paris show, it is possible to attain a flying rate of approximately eighty miles an hour. In such a machine, it is intended that the officer-pilot should, in war-time, effect a swift dash over the enemy’s lines, and fly back, without an instant’s delay, with whatever observations he has been able to make. Apart from being able to return very rapidly to Headquarters, the airman’s high speed would, of course, be an appreciable factor in his favour, when subjected to artillery fire.

Such quick reconnoitring, carried out by the pilot of a fast-flying monoplane, will only be efficacious in detecting the movements of considerable bodies of troops. For detailed reconnaissance, without doubt, the two-seated monoplane, carrying its highly-skilled observer, will be relied upon—as, also, will the weight-carrying biplane, to which reference will be made in our next section.

It may now, perhaps, be permissible to summarise some of the advantages of the latest-type military monoplanes. Primarily, of course, their value lies in their speed. In war-time, some reconnoitring flights will be more urgent than others; but it may be taken for granted that, in practically all circumstances, the speedy completion of a reconnaissance will be greatly to be desired. Thus, in the eyes of a Commander-in-Chief, the fast-flying monoplane will find the highest possible favour.

A definite advantage of the monoplane’s speed will lie in its ability to fly in high, gusty winds. It will, indeed, require very adverse conditions to prevent the flight of a bold and expert airman, piloting an eighty-mile-an-hour machine. This point, naturally, will have especial significance during the progress of an actual campaign.

In the forthcoming trials of military aeroplanes, to be conducted by the War Office, it is certain that powerful, two-seated monoplanes, propelled by seventy and hundred horse-power engines, will play an important part.

II. Latest developments in biplane construction—The engine-in-front, weight-carrying machine.

The varied experience of the year 1911, so far as the use of military biplanes was concerned, revealed very definite results at the Paris aeroplane exhibition in December.

The influence of monoplane construction, upon the design of many of the biplanes shown, was marked. Clearly revealed, for example, was the comparatively new school—initiated by the Breguet—in which the engine is fixed in the bow of the biplane, as in monoplane practice, and a form of body almost identical with that of a monoplane is adopted.

Such machines, seeing that they employ rear elevating planes, as do monoplanes, are biplanes only in the sense that they are fitted with two main-planes, set one above another. As a matter of fact, in regard to the Breguet—a notable representative of this type—the description "biplane" is occasionally dropped, and the machine called a "double-monoplane."

One of the practical advantages of the engine-in-front system is in regard to the possibility of a bad descent. In the event of an abrupt dive to the ground, with a machine of this construction, the engine, and strengthened forepart of the body, take the brunt of the shock. In machines where the power-plant is fixed behind the main-planes, a danger has revealed itself of the motor being wrenched from its wooden bed, and falling forward upon the pilot—with disastrous results.

Two notable exceptions to this new method of construction are those of Henry and Maurice Farman. They still maintain the system of placing engines behind the main-planes, and of setting pilots in front of them.

But the Henry Farman military biplane, as seen at the end of 1911, was a very different machine from that, for example, upon which Louis Paulhan made his flight from London to Manchester in April, 1910.

Probably the most obvious of the new features introduced was that of placing both pilot and observer in seats set upon a wooden framework, which projected in front of the main-planes. The object of this innovation was to provide a pilot, or reconnoitring officer, with the most unobstructed view possible of the ground below him. The objection to the scheme was that the exposed position made it highly probable that the occupants of the machine would bear the full brunt of the impact, in the case of a bad descent.

Another feature of the Henry Farman military biplane, which is under review, was the "staggering" of the planes. Farman adopted the plan of setting his upper main-plane appreciably in advance of the lower one. The "staggering" of planes is seriously criticised, by technical experts, on many grounds. But, in this case, Farman seems to have decided upon the system, in regard to his military machine, in order to facilitate a descent on rough ground, and also to assist the heavily-laden aircraft in getting away from the ground, and in "climbing." The biplane certainly performed meritoriously in the French military trials.

At first operating individually, but now in partnership with his brother Henry, Maurice Farman constructed, towards the end of 1911, an interesting type of military biplane. The Maurice Farman machine may be said to have come first into definite prominence when Tabutean flew for more than eight hours in it in 1910, securing the Michelin Cup.

A large machine, with extensions to its main-planes, capable of carrying a very heavy load, and of remaining in the air for a long time, but being an awkward craft in a high wind, save for the most expert pilot—in such terms, one may describe the Maurice Farman. What a skilled airman can do with such a big, slow-flying machine, has been shown by Renaux, who piloted his Maurice Farman right round the 1030-miles course of the Circuit of Europe; but there were, of course, times when the monoplanes flew in a wind which kept him in his shed. It should be stated, to the credit of the Maurice Farman, that it achieved excellent results in the French trials.

Reference has been made to the Breguet. This is a biplane of a most progressive type. Steel enters largely into its construction. It has a tapering body, with controlling planes at the tail, such as the monoplane possesses; and, in addition, it is equipped with two main supporting planes, such as characterise the biplane. These are fitted above and below the body of the machine.

Constructionally, its outstanding feature is its simplicity. Instead of a number of wooden supports between the main-planes, held in place by much wiring, the Breguet biplane dispenses with all save four struts; and these are maintained in position by a minimum of wiring.

The result, from the point of view of portability, is that a great stride forward is effected. The main-planes of the machine, which represent its bulky feature, can be unshipped in a few minutes. Nor is this all; by an ingenious system of hinging the main-planes to the body of the biplane, these planes may be turned back, after they are un-wired, and folded beside the body of the machine.

A result is thus achieved which would not have been considered possible, in the early stages of aeroplane construction. When the planes are folded at the sides of the machine, it can be made to move down a road like a motor-car, with its engine running, and its propeller drawing it forward. The steering-wheel, used when the machine is in flight, is connected with a small front running-wheel. When he is on the ground, therefore, the pilot sits in his driving-seat, and controls his craft like a motorist.

Such features as this commend themselves, as may be imagined, to military experts. The Breguet biplane possesses other original features also. The main-planes, being constructed with thin metal ribs, are flexible; and this flexibility gives the machine stability when assailed by wind-gusts.

There are several military types of the Breguet biplane. There is, for example a machine built to carry a pilot and an observer; and another type, more powerful, which raises a "crew" of three into the air.

The latter is called by its makers the "cruiser" biplane; and it is interesting to describe how the "crew" is disposed upon it. First comes the engineer; his task is to attend to the motor. He is given a seat right up in the bows of the machine, and just behind the engine. The idea of having a man to look after the engine is, of course, an excellent one; he is able to "nurse" the motor, give it every attention, and detect at once whether it is developing any troubles.

Behind the engineer, in the long, boat-shaped body of the biplane, is seated the observer. He is free from all duties save the carrying out of his observation work. He has his maps and notebook—shielded from the rush of wind—in the body of the machine before him.

Behind the reconnoitring officer comes the pilot of the machine, with the controlling wheels placed in front of him. His attention is devoted exclusively to steering, and preserving the lateral stability of the biplane.

This division of duties upon an aeroplane is especially useful in military work; and it will, undoubtedly, become more and more a feature of war aircraft. A crew of three, upon a reconnoitring machine, represents an ideal distribution of duties. An engineer, to look after the motor when in flight, will probably become more and more of a necessity, as engines increase in power.

A machine with ample engine-power is essential from the military point of view. It not only means ability to withstand wind-gusts, but it spells, also, the power to rise swiftly.

This power of quick-rising, combined with high speed, may frequently save an aeroplane from destruction, when it is reconnoitring over a hostile force. The ability to "climb" speedily is, indeed, insisted upon by those who frame the rules for military contests.

Unknown to the crew of a war machine, they may approach within range of a concealed battery. In such a case, a shell bursting near them will probably be their first indication of peril.

Instantly, the pilot will seek to put as great a distance as possible between himself and the battery; and, as he darts off, he will "climb" as quickly as he can. In such circumstances as these a quick, handy machine would probably escape unscathed, whereas a slow-moving craft might run grave risk of being hit. In the matter of speed, a machine like the Breguet shows a very distinct improvement, as compared with early-type biplanes. Thirty-five miles an hour represented the speed of some of the first biplanes flown in France; but this was increased, before long, to forty miles an hour.

Then came specially-built biplanes, really racing craft, which caused speeds to increase from forty to forty-five, and fifty miles an hour. Now, in reference to the Breguet, a speed of sixty miles an hour is attained.

In regard to the speed of biplanes when amply engined, it may be mentioned that Mr Cody, using a 120 horse-power Austrian-Daimler motor, has been credited with a pace of seventy miles an hour at Farnborough.

Concerning the development of big, weight-carrying biplanes, the French military authorities are now definitely credited with the intention of using such machines, in war-time, for destructive purposes. No official announcement of policy, in this connection, has been made; but the statement is current, and finds general acceptance that, in the case of a war with Germany, large biplanes would be used by France along the German frontier, for the purpose of dropping bombs upon fortifications, and frustrating any punitive flights of German airships.

In this direction, and possibly also for transport purposes, the future of the weight-carrying biplane seems certainly to lie.

Those now available for military purposes are designed to possess a maximum of lifting power, with reasonable speed, and a large measure of portability. They possess strong, workmanlike features, which specially suit them for rough service.

From the point of view of an observer, in obtaining a maximum of unimpeded vision for his work, the military biplane offers distinct advantages. But the relative value of biplanes and monoplanes in war-time, can only be established, definitely, by the carefully-noted experiences of a campaign.

III. Healthy position of the French industry—What England has lacked—Danger of neglecting home builders.

The competitive element in France, so far as aeroplane construction is concerned, has been fully aroused.

There is, indeed, every encouragement for a maker to invest his money in the production of a machine. He knows that, if he achieves a result that is satisfactory from the military point of view, he will receive definite Government support, in the shape of an order for one or more machines.

This, of course, makes all the difference between development and stagnation. From the point of view of the military authorities, the encouragement of construction has another important effect, also. It directs building into the channel which they desire it to follow—that is to say, towards the steady improvement of machines suitable for purposes of war.

By this process of placing every facility in the way of her home manufacturers, France ensures the maintenance of her lead, so far as military aeroplanes are concerned. The most talented men as designers, and the most practical men as builders, are always busy in France, seeking to improve the machines which are at present in use.

An unfortunate position, so far as England is concerned, was revealed in connection with the preliminary announcement of the intention of the War Office to hold a military aeroplane contest. Starved for lack of any official recognition or support, representatives of the British industry pleaded for conditional orders for machines.

In the general advancement of the science, and particularly so far as costly experiments with aeroplane engines are concerned. Government apathy, in the past, has brought about stagnation—and the use, on English flying-grounds, of foreign-built machines. Will this forthcoming season show a change? It is sincerely to be hoped that it will.

France possesses the best machines to-day; and she intends to have the best machines to-morrow. She is in the best position, also, to profit by any revolutionary discovery, as applied to aeroplaning—should any such discovery be made.

The country which obtained first use of any revolutionary discovery would, naturally, be in a commanding position; and, if any such discovery is made, there is little doubt but that it will be made in France. This is what a country secures by a pioneer policy in any new science: it obtains the best there is at the moment, and practically ensures, also, obtaining the best that the future can bring forth.

The lack of anything like official encouragement has, hitherto, thrown a definite blight over aerial constructional work in this country. Clever engineers have interested themselves in the problems arising; but experimental work, in regard to aeroplaning, is notoriously expensive. With little scope for selling machines, when they have built them, British manufacturers have had no stimulus to compete with the makers in France.

Of course, there have been private orders for English builders. But these have not been certain. A series of definite orders from the Government—given just when the industry needed stimulating—would have made all the difference.

With only one or two aeroplanes actually purchased, a maker knows that certain of his expenses are covered, at all events; and, when he has disposed of three of four machines, even if his profit is small, he is encouraged to embark upon fresh experiments.

This is how the manufacturers in France have gone from one triumph to another. They have built, and sold, machines of a certain type; and, in the building of them, they have learned a number of lessons, and have seen where all sorts of improvements might be made.

Then, having transacted some genuine business, and established a factory on a satisfactory basis, they are ready, and able, to put to a practical test the ideas they have acquired in building their first machines. This is how such world-famous makers as Blériot and Farman have been able to move forward.

What it means to a country to obtain a lead in such a new industry as that of building flying machines is shown now, almost every day, in regard to the demand which has sprung up for war aeroplanes. Many other Governments are, as has been indicated, following the lead of France in obtaining air-fleets; and, to make a beginning they have, naturally, been obliged to buy aeroplanes.

The problem has arisen, therefore, as to where they should purchase their first machines; and they have found themselves forced to go to the French manufacturers, simply because the French factories have been producing the best aeroplanes.

Thus England, Germany, Russia, Italy, Spain, and Japan have been obliged to go to France to buy aeroplanes. This has meant more money for experimental work in France. Therefore, what other nations have been doing, really, has been to help France to increase her lead, by giving her manufacturers the wherewithal to extend their researches. Thus it can be seen how important it is for a country like France to maintain her dominant position.

It is true that other nations, having made initial purchases from the French aeroplane manufacturers, will try to improve upon these machines themselves, so as to avoid spending any more money out of their own country. But in this their success is, to a certain extent, doubtful. They may study French-built machines, and may see where improvements are possible. Then they may seek to construct machines of their own. But it must be remembered that France, helped by the money which these other countries have spent with her, is progressing rapidly all the while.

The other countries, beginners in the construction of aeroplanes, are sure to make slow progress; but France, with every facility to hand, will go ahead quickly. Thus, while other countries are seeking to improve upon the machines which they have bought in France, it is probable that the French manufacturers will have gone ahead several stages further, and will be able to maintain a commanding lead.

Not only in the purchase of military machines, but in regard to aeroplanes for private use, France is reaping the reward of her go-ahead policy. Large numbers of French-built aeroplanes have been purchased by airmen in other countries. The reason, of course, is not far to seek. Patriotism is one thing, the obtaining of the best aeroplane another.

Exceptionally large prizes have been offered for aeroplane contests, and it has been the desire of all competitors to secure either the fastest or the most reliable machine, as the case may be. Therefore, following the example of the military authorities, the airmen of various countries have gone to France for their machines, and have further swelled the resources of the French makers.

Some Englishmen of wealth and leisure have, greatly to their credit, supported and encouraged the home manufacturers in their struggle against the general apathy prevailing. The effect of their action has been apparent in the production of more than one aeroplane which has indicated, clearly, that all the industry in this country requires is steady development along the right lines.

It is often said in England that we shall, in regard to aeroplanes, follow the policy which was adopted concerning the motor-car. That is to say, we shall allow the foreigner to do all the pioneer work, and then step in, and produce a perfected machine just as well as he can.

But aeroplanes are not in the same category as motor-cars. Besides, it is not our business here to deal with the commercial aspects of the case. We are not arguing the cause of the aeroplane from the point of view of trade. The matter is one of national safety.

And this is the position. It will probably be many years hence before anyone will be able to say: "Here is the perfected aeroplane. Now we can equip factories, and standardise our output."

What will more likely eventuate, as we have hinted, is a gradually improving war aeroplane. During the years that improvements are being sought in France—and found—we cannot afford to "sit on the fence." In the matter of some commercial development, it might be possible to pursue a laggard policy, while another go-ahead country was doing pioneer work; but such a scheme is perilous in the extreme when a new and vitally-important weapon of war is concerned.

This summer, in the military trials, British makers will have a chance. Unfortunately, they have not much time in which to evolve the exceptionally efficient aeroplane which the tests demand. In this regard, without doubt, they are greatly handicapped in a contest with French manufacturers—who have all the experience of the 1911 trials at Rheims behind them, and practically unlimited resources in the shape of smoothly-working factories and financial strength.

In the matter of British engines, there will certainly be insufficient time—before the War Office trials—for any new motors of sufficient power to be built and tested satisfactorily. This is particularly unfortunate, as it will mean, in all probability, that British constructors will be obliged, whether they like it or not, to install machines with foreign motors.

Six months is not long enough for the home aeroplane industry to lift itself from its Slough of Despond. The Government’s tardy recognition of the value of military airmanship cannot cause an immediate making-up of leeway. As a matter of fact, the industry in this country is bound to suffer, from its past neglect, for several years to come.

SEVENTH SECTION WHAT EXISTING WAR AEROPLANES CAN ACTUALLY ACCOMPLISH

I. Plight of a Commander-in-Chief without an aeroplane corps—The work of cavalry reconnaissance.

What can be achieved by aeroplane reconnaissance, when skilfully carried out, and conducted upon an adequate scale, it will be the purpose of this section of our book to show.

In order to appreciate the services which an efficient air-corps will be able to render, the position of a Commander-in-Chief who has no aeroplanes to help him should first be understood.

In modern warfare, operations are extended over a very wide area. Sometimes, for example, a fighting line will stretch over a frontage of many miles. This makes it increasingly difficult for a Commander-in-Chief to obtain precise and speedy information concerning the movements of his enemy.

Cavalry scouts are, of course, sent out. They move cautiously forward, until they come into contact with the outposts which the enemy has thrown forward with the deliberate intention of concealing his intentions. The cavalry scouts are able to report the position of these outposts; but as to what general strategic movement is taking place behind this screen they can, as a rule, provide only meagre information, if any at all.

How difficult it is to glean anything like reliable news of an enemy’s movements has been indicated by that great military genius, Napoleon. Dealing with this very question, and clearly emphasising the need for such a scouting medium as the aeroplane, he wrote:—

"Nothing is more contradictory, nothing is more bewildering,
than the multitude reports of spies, or of officers sent out to
reconnoitre; some locate army corps where they have seen only
detachments; others see only detachments where they ought to
have seen army corps.

"Often they have not themselves seen the facts they report, and
they have only gathered the hearsay evidence of alarmed,
surprised, or bewildered people. ... If a former preoccupation
exists, if there is a tendency to believe that the enemy will
come from one direction rather than from another, the gathered
evidence is interpreted in one sense, however little it lends
itself to being so interpreted. It is thus that great mistakes
are made, which are sometimes the ruin of armies and of
Empires."

Nothing could more definitely indicate the importance of accurate reconnoitring than the emphatic statement of this great soldier. Napoleon recognised that reliable information, concerning the doings of his antagonists, was all-important. A misunderstanding of some scouting report was, he knew, sufficient to lose the Commander-in-Chief a great action.

In any battle a Commander seeks, as has been truly said, to see what is going on "upon the other side of the hill."

The two armies are spread out, approaching each other. Each Commander has thrown forward a screen of men. These act, so to speak, as "feelers," seeking to come into touch with the enemy. Behind this screen of outposts comes the real strength of the army. Neither Commander knows how, when, or at what point, his opponent will develop his main attack. So they grope towards each other, any authentic news of a definite movement of troops being eagerly awaited.

If, as the result of any information brought him, one Commander-in-Chief can anticipate his opponent’s chief move, he may—by that stroke alone—succeed in winning the battle which ensues.

Thus it is that a Commander-in-Chief sits at his Headquarters, with maps in front of him, asking himself one vital question: "At what point, behind the wide-flung screen of his outposts, is my enemy developing his main attack?"

The cavalry scouts, and the scouts on foot, do their work as best they can. They strive, as far as is practicable, to pierce the barrier of men which the enemy has thrown forward.

The task of these scouts is dangerous; it is laborious; and it is slow. It is also haphazard. But, from the fragmentary news that is brought back to him, a Commander-in-Chief has to act as best he can.

Some of his scouts succeed; others return with nothing at all. There are serious gaps in the intelligence; much of it may be contradictory. Yet upon such intelligence as this a Commander-in-Chief has acted in the past, and will have to act in the future, unless he has the aeroplane scout placed at his disposal.

II. Work of a squadron of air-scouts described—Tasks of the pilot and observer—Combined reconnaissance by many machines—Effect of aeroplanes upon tactics.

Having indicated the difficulties of the Commander-in-Chief, who has no aeroplane service at his disposal, it is now legitimate to show what can be accomplished with the aid of this new "arm."

We will imagine, for the sake of argument, that an action is imminent, and that the Commander-in-Chief is anxious to know, without delay, from what direction he may expect the enemy to mass his troops for a main attack. So he calls into consultation the Commander of the aeroplane depot. This depot—as has been explained in a previous section—will probably be established at a suitable point near the main body of the troops, and will be maintained at the spot chosen, until a move on the part of the army necessitates a change of quarters.

To the Commander of the aeroplane depot the Commander-in-Chief will explain the points, in regard to the general plan of campaign, upon which he requires enlightenment.

The Commander of the aeroplanes will make a note of what the Commander-in-Chief desires; then he will return to the aeroplane camp, and get to work. It is probable, in the ordinary course of affairs, that organised reconnoitring flights will be made, in wartime, either in the early hours of the morning, or during the evening. This will suit the convenience of the airmen by giving them the best weather conditions to work in; and it will also be satisfactory for the Commander-in-Chief to know at the beginning, and again at the end of a day’s fighting, what the dispositions of his enemy are.

In the French manœuvres, and also in other experiments made, it has been shown that information, concerning an enemy’s movements, is generally required in the morning and in the evening; and this applies, particularly, to news gleaned in the early morning, soon after it is light. It is then, before the movements of the day, that an enemy’s dispositions may best be noted.

A good deal of interest has been aroused, lately, in the suggestion that, in war-time, machines would be required to reconnoitre at night. It has been pointed out, in this connection, that large movements of troops are often made under cover of darkness.

That night reconnoitring is practical there is no doubt. How much an observer would be able to report, without the use of a searchlight, experience must prove. There seems little doubt but that an air-scout could descend low enough, at night, to detect the movements of large bodies of men.

When he has returned to the aeroplane camp, after his consultation with the Commander-in-Chief, the officer who is in charge of the aviation depot will seek an interview with the officer who is directly in control of the military pilots and observers. Maps will be consulted, and a general plan of reconnoitring drawn up; and, at this stage of the proceedings, the time will come to decide how many machines are to be sent out upon the scouting expedition.

This decision will be governed, very largely, by the extent of the area to be traversed, and also by the urgency of the mission. Although all news obtained will naturally be needed at Headquarters as quickly as possible, there will be occasions when the need for haste is very great. In such instances, more machines will be sent out than at ordinary times.

If he has a complete and rapid reconnaissance of an enemy’s position to make, covering the entire area of operations, and not any one section of the battle-front, the Commander of aeroplanes will probably order a large number of machines to go upon the trip.

The value of numbers is self-evident. One machine, acting upon instructions, can be piloted over a narrow and previously-indicated route. It reports all that is seen, but its observations are necessarily restricted to what lies in its path.

It would be impossible, with one machine making one flight, to obtain anything like a comprehensive report as to an enemy’s doings—at least not in reasonable time.

This is why, when a large area has to be covered, the Commander of aeroplanes will order out a regular squadron of machines. After a conversation with his immediate superior, the officer who is in charge of the airmen and observers will discuss with them the area which each machine shall cover.

Again maps will be consulted, and aerial routes will be laid down. It will be the aim of the officer instructing the airmen to spread out his scouts so as to present a complete report, when the reconnaissance is effected.

When the whole of the ground to be reconnoitred has thus been marked out upon the maps, each observer—who will be equipped with his own personal map of the fighting area—will be instructed as to the course he shall steer. He will duly note this, and return to his machine.