CHAPTER XXXI
The Romance of a Cowboy Aeronaut
In the brief but glorious history of pioneer work in aviation, so far as it applies to this country, there is scarcely a more romantic figure to be found than Colonel Cody. It was the writer's pleasure to come into close contact with Cody during the early years of his experimental work with man-lifting box-kites at the Alexandra Park, London, and never will his genial smile and twinkling eye be forgotten.
Cody always seemed ready to crack a joke with anyone, and possibly there was no more optimistic man in the whole of Britain. To the boys and girls of Wood Green he was a popular hero. He was usually clad in a "cowboy" hat, red flannel shirt, and buckskin breeches, and his hair hung down to his shoulders. On certain occasions he would give a "Wild West" exhibition at the Alexandra Palace, and one of his most daring tricks with the gun was to shoot a cigarette from a lady's lips. One could see that he was entire master of the rifle, and a trick which always brought rounds of applause was the hitting of a target while standing with his back to it, simply by the aid of a mirror held at the butt of his rifle.
But it is of Cody as an aviator and aeroplane constructor that we wish to speak. For some reason or other he was generally the object of ridicule, both in the Press and among the public. Why this should have been so is not quite clear; possibly his quaint attire had something to do with it, and unfriendly critics frequently raised a laugh at his expense over the enormous size of his machines. So large were they that the Cody biplane was laughingly called the "Cody bus" or the "Cody Cathedral."
But in the end Cody fought down ridicule and won fame, for in competition with some of the finest machines of the day, piloted by some of our most expert airmen, he won the prize of L5000 offered by the Government in 1912 in connection with the Army trials for aeroplanes. In these trials he astonished everyone by obtaining a speed of over 70 miles an hour in his biplane, which weighed 2600 pounds.
In the opening years of the present century Cody spent much time in demonstrations with huge box-kites, and for a time this form of kite was highly popular with boys of North London. In these kites he made over two hundred flights, reaching, on some occasions, an altitude of over 2000 feet. At all times of the day he could have been seen on the slopes of the Palace Hill, hauling these strange-looking, bat-like objects backward and forward in the wind. Reports of his experiments appeared in the Press, but Cody was generally looked upon as a "crank". The War
Office, however, saw great possibilities in the kites for scouting purposes in time of war, and they paid Cody L5000 for his invention.
t is a rather romantic story of how Cody came to take up experimental work with kites, and it is repeated as it was given by a Mohawk chief to a newspaper representative.
"On one occasion when Cody was in a Lancashire town with his Wild West show, his son Leon went into the street with a parrot-shaped kite. Leon was attired in a red shirt, cowboy trousers, and sombrero, and soon a crowd of youngsters in clogs was clattering after him.
"'If a boy can interest a crowd with a little kite, why can't a man interest a whole nation?' thought Cody--and so the idea of man-lifting kites developed."
In 1903 Cody made a daring but unsuccessful attempt to cross the Channel in a boat drawn by two kites. Had he succeeded he intended to cross the Atlantic by similar means.
Later on, Cody turned his attention to the construction of aeroplanes, but he was seriously handicapped by lack of funds. His machines were built with the most primitive tools, and some of our modern constructors, working in well-equipped "shops", where the machinery is run by electric plant, would marvel at the work accomplished with such tools as those used by Cody.
Most of Cody's flights were made on Laffan's Plain, and he took part in the great "Round Britain" race in 1911. It was characteristic of the man that in this race he kept on far in the wake of MM. Beaumont and Vedrines, though he knew that he had not the slightest chance of winning the prize; and, days after the successful pilot had arrived back at Brooklands, Cody's "bus" came to earth in the aerodrome. "It's dogged as does it," he remarked, "and I meant to do the course, even if I took a year over it."
Of Cody's sad death at Farnborough, when practising in the ill-fated water-plane which he intended to pilot in the sea flight round Great Britain in 1913, we speak in a later chapter.
CHAPTER XXXII
Three Historic Flights
When the complete history of aviation comes to be written, there will be three epoch-making events which will doubtless be duly appreciated by the historian, and which may well be described as landmarks in the history of flight. These are the three great contests organized by the proprietors of the Daily Mail, respectively known as the "London to Manchester" flight, the "Round Britain flight in an aeroplane", and the "Water-plane flight round Great Britain."
In any account of aviation which deals with the real achievements of pioneers who have helped to make the science of flight what it is to-day, it would be unfair not to mention the generosity of Lord Northcliffe and his co-directors of the Daily Mail towards the development of aviation in this country. Up to the time of writing, the sum of L24,750 has been paid by the Daily Mail in the encouragement of flying, and prizes to the amount of L15,000 are still on offer. In addition to these prizes this journal has maintained pilots who may be described as "Missionaries of Aviation". Perhaps the foremost of them is M. Salmet, who has made hundreds of flights in various parts of the country, and has aroused the greatest enthusiasm wherever he has flown.
The progress of aviation undoubtedly owes a great deal to the Press, for the newspaper has succeeded in bringing home to most people the fact that the possession of air-craft is a matter of national importance. It was of little use for airmen to make thrilling flights up and down an aerodrome, with the object of interesting the general public, if the newspapers did not record such flights, and though in the very early days of aviation some newspapers adopted an unfriendly attitude towards the possibilities of practical aviation, nearly all the Press has since come to recognize the aeroplane as a valuable means of national defence. Right from the start the Daily Mail foresaw the importance of promoting the new science of flight by the award of prizes, and its public-spirited enterprise has done much to break up the prevailing apathy towards aviation among the British nation.
If these three great events had been mere spectacles and nothing else--such as, for instance, that great horse-race known as "The Derby"--this chapter would never have been written. But they are most worthy of record because all three have marked clearly-defined stepping-stones in the progress of flight; they have proved conclusively that aviation is practicable, and that its ultimate entry into the busy life of the world is no more than a matter of perfecting details.
The first L10,000 prize was offered in November, 1906, for a flight by aeroplane from London to Manchester in twenty-four hours, with not more than two stoppages en route. In 1910 two competitors entered the lists for the flight; one, an Englishman, Mr. Claude Grahame-White; the other, a Frenchman, M. Paulhan.
Mr. Grahame-White made the first attempt, and he flew remarkably well too, but he was forced to descend at Lichfield--about 113 miles on the journey--owing to the high and gusty winds which prevailed in the Trent valley. The plucky pilot intended to continue the flight early the next morning, but during the night his biplane was blown over in a gale while it stood in a field, and it was so badly damaged that the machine had to be sent back to London to be repaired.
This took so long that his French rival, M. Paulhan, was able to complete his plans and start from Hendon, on 27th April. So rapidly had Paulhan's machine been transported from Dover, and "assembled" at Hendon, that Mr. White, whose biplane was standing ready at Wormwood Scrubbs, was taken by surprise when he heard that his rival had started on the journey and "stolen a march on him", so to speak. Nothing daunted, however, the plucky British aviator had his machine brought out, and he went in pursuit of Paulhan late in the afternoon. When darkness set in Mr. White had reached Roade, but the French pilot was several miles ahead.
Now came one of the most thrilling feats in the history of aviation. Mr. White knew that his only chance of catching Paulhan was to make a flight in the darkness, and though this was extremely hazardous he arose from a small field in the early morning, some hours before daybreak arrived, and flew to the north. His friends had planned ingenious devices to guide him on his way: thus it was proposed to send fast motor-cars, bearing very powerful lights, along the route, and huge flares were lighted on the railway; but the airman kept to his course chiefly by the help of the lights from the railway stations.
Over hill and valley, forest and meadow, sleeping town and slumbering village, the airman flew, and when dawn arrived he had nearly overhauled his rival, who, in complete ignorance of Mr. White's daring pursuit, had not yet started.
But now came another piece of very bad luck for the British aviator. At daybreak a strong wind arose, and Mr. White's machine was tossed about like a mere play-ball, so that he was compelled to land. Paulhan, however, who was a pilot with far more experience, was able to overcome the treacherous air gusts, and he flew on to Manchester, arriving there in the early morning.
Undoubtedly the better pilot won, and he had a truly magnificent reception in Manchester and London, and on his return to France. But this historic contest laid the foundation of Mr. Grahame-White's great reputation as an aviator, and, as we all know, his fame has since become world-wide.
CHAPTER XXXIII
Three Historic Flights (Cont.)
About a month after Paulhan had won the "London to Manchester" race, the world of aviation, and most of the general public too, were astonished to read the announcement of another enormous prize. This time a much harder task was set, for the conditions of the contest stated that a circuit of Britain had to be made, covering a distance of about 1000 miles in one week, with eleven compulsory stops at fixed controls.
This prize was offered on 22nd May, 1910, and in the following year seventeen competitors entered the lists. It says much for the progress of aviation at this time, when we read that, only a year before, it was difficult to find but two pilots to compete in the much easier race described in the last chapter. Much of this progress was undoubtedly due to the immense enthusiasm aroused by the success of Paulhan in the "London to Manchester" race.
We will not describe fully the second race, because, though it was of immense importance at the time, it has long since become a mere episode. Rarely has Britain been in such great excitement as during that week in July, 1911.
Engine troubles, breakdowns, and other causes soon reduced the seventeen competitors to two only: Lieutenant Conneau, of the French Navy-who flew under the name of M. Beaumont--and M. Vedrines. Neck to neck they flew--if we may be allowed this horse-racing expression--over all sorts of country, which was quite unknown to them.
Victory ultimately rested with Lieutenant Conneau, who, on 26th July, 1911, passed the winning-post at Brooklands after having completed the course in the magnificent time of twenty-two hours, twenty-eight minutes, averaging about 45 miles an hour for the whole journey. M. Vedrines, though defeated, made a most plucky fight. Conneau's success was due largely to his ability to keep to the course--on two or three occasions Vedrines lost his way-- and doubtless his naval training in map-reading and observation gave him the advantage over his rival.
The third historic flight was made by Mr. Harry Hawker, in August, 1913. This was an attempt to win a prize of L5000 offered by the proprietors of the Daily Mail for a flight round the British coasts. The route was from Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, along the southern and eastern coasts to Aberdeen and Cromarty, thence through the Caledonian Canal to Oban, then on to Dublin, thence to Falmouth, and along the south coast to Southampton Water.
Two important conditions of the contest were that the flight was to be made in an all-British aeroplane, fitted with a British engine. Hitherto our aeroplane constructors and engine companies were behind their rivals across the Channel in the building of air-craft and aerial engines, and this country freely acknowledged the merits and enterprise of French aviators. Though in the European War it was afterwards proved that the British airman and constructor were the equals if not the superiors of any in the world, at the date of this contest they were behind in many respects.
As these conditions precluded the use of the famous Gnome engine, which had won so many contests, and indeed the employment of any engine made abroad, the competitors were reduced to two aviation firms; and as one or these ultimately withdrew from the contest the Sopwith Aviation Company of Kingston-on-Thames and Brooklands entered a machine.
Mr. T. Sopwith chose for his pilot a young Australian airman, Mr. Harry Hawker. This skilful airman came with three other Australians to this country to seek his fortune about three years before. He was passionately devoted to mechanics, and, though he had had no opportunity of flying in his native country, he had been intensely interested in the progress of aviation in France and Britain, and the four friends set out on their long journey to seek work in aeroplane factories.
All four succeeded, but by far the most successful was Harry Hawker. Early in 1913 Mr. Sopwith was looking out for a pilot, and he engaged Hawker, whom he had seen during some good flying at Brooklands.
In a month or two he was engaged in record breaking, and in June, 1913, he tried to set up a new British height record. In his first attempt he rose to 11,300 feet; but as the carburettor of
the engine froze, and as the pilot himself was in grave danger of frost-bite, he descended. About a fortnight later he rose 12,300 feet above sea-level, and shortly afterwards he performed an even more difficult test, by climbing with three passengers to an altitude of 8500 feet.
With such achievements to his name it was not in the least surprising that Mr. Sopwith's choice of a pilot for the water-plane race rested on Hawker. His first attempt was made on 16th August, when he flew from Southampton Water to Yarmouth—a distance of about 240 miles--in 240 minutes. The writer, who was spending a holiday at Lowestoft, watched Mr. Hawker go by, and his machine was plainly visible to an enormous crowd which had lined the beach.
To everyone's regret the pilot was affected with a slight sunstroke when he reached Yarmouth, and another Australian airman, Mr. Sidney Pickles, was summoned to take his place. This was quite within the rules of the contest, the object of which was to test the merits of a British machine and engine rather than the endurance and skill of a particular pilot. During the night a strong wind arose, and next morning, when Mr. Pickles attempted to resume the flight, the sea was too rough for a start to be made, and the water-plane was beached at Gorleston.
Mr. Hawker quickly recovered from his indisposition, and on Monday, 25th August, he, with a mechanic as passenger, left Cowes about five o'clock in the morning in his second attempt to make a circuit of Britain. The first control was at Ramsgate, and here he had to descend in order to fulfill the conditions of the contest.
Ramsgate was left at 9.8, and Yarmouth, the next control, was reached at 10.38. So far the engine, built by Mr. Green, had worked perfectly. About an hour was spent at Yarmouth, and then the machine was en route to Scarborough. Haze compelled the pilot to keep close in to the coast, so that he should not miss the way, and a choppy breeze some what retarded the progress of the machine along the east coast. About 2.40 the pilot brought his machine to earth, or rather to water, at Scarborough, where he stayed for nearly two hours.
Mr. Hawker's intention was to reach Aberdeen, if possible, before nightfall, but at Seaham he had to descend for water, as the engine was becoming uncomfortably hot, and the radiator supply of water was rapidly diminishing. This lost much valuable time, as over an hour was spent here, and it had begun to grow dark before the journey was recommenced. About an hour after resuming his journey he decided to plane down at the fishing village of Beadwell, some 20 miles south of Berwick.
At 8.5 on Tuesday morning the pilot was on his way to Aberdeen, but he had to descend and stay at Montrose for about half an hour, and Aberdeen was reached about 11 a.m. His Scottish admirers, consisting of quite 40,000 people at Aberdeen alone, gave him a most hearty welcome, and sped him on his way about noon. Some two hours later Cromarty was reached.
Now commenced the most difficult part of the course. The Caledonian Canal runs among lofty mountains, and the numerous air-eddies and swift air-streams rushing through the mountain passes tossed the frail craft to and fro, and at times threatened to wreck it altogether. On some occasions the aeroplane was tossed up over 1000 feet at one blow; at other times it was driven sideways almost on to the hills. From Cromarty to Oban the journey was only about 96 miles, but it took nearly three hours to fly between these places. This slow progress seriously jeopardized the pilot's chances of completing the course in the allotted time, for it was his intention to make the coast of Ireland by nightfall. But as it was late when Oban was reached he decided to spend the night there.
Early the following morning he left for Dublin, 222 miles away. Soon a float was found to be waterlogged and much valuable time was, spent in bailing it dry. Then a descent had to be made at Kiells, in Argyllshire, because a valve had gone wrong. Another landing was made at Larne, to take aboard petrol. As soon as the petrol tanks were filled and the machine had been overhauled the pilot got on his way for Dublin.
For over two hours he flew steadily down the Irish coast, and then occurred one of those slight accidents, quite insignificant in themselves, but terribly disastrous in their results. Mr. Hawker's boots were rubber soled and his foot slipped off the rudder bar, so that the machine got out of control and fell into the sea at Lough Shinny, about 15 miles north of Dublin. At the time of the accident the pilot was about 50 feet above the water, which in this part of the Lough is very shallow. The machine was completely wrecked, and Mr. Hawker's mechanic was badly cut about
the head and neck, besides having his arm broken. Mr. Hawker himself escaped injury.
All Britons deeply sympathized with his misfortune, and much enthusiasm, was aroused when the proprietors of the Daily Mail presented the skilful and courageous pilot with a cheque for
L1000 as a consolation gift.
In a later chapter some account will be given of the tremendous development of the aeroplane during four years of war. But it is fitting that to the three historic flights detailed above there should be added the sensational exploits of the Marchese Giulio Laureati in 1917. This intrepid Italian airman made a non-stop journey from Turin to Naples and back, a distance of 920 miles. A month later he flew from Turin to Hounslow, a distance of 656 miles, in 7 hours 22 minutes. His machine was presented to the British Air Board by the Italian Government.
CHAPTER XXXIV
The Hydroplane and Air-boat
One of the most recent developments in aviation is the hydroplane, or water-plane as it is most commonly called. A hydroplane is an aeroplane fitted with floats instead of wheels, so that it will rise from, or alight upon, the surface of the water. Often water-planes have their floats removed and wheels affixed to the chassis, so that they may be used over land.
From this you may think that the construction of a water-plane is quite a simple task; but such is not the case. The fitting of floats to an aeroplane has called for great skill on the part of the constructor, and many difficulties have had to be overcome.
Those of you who have seen an acroplane rise from the ground know that the machine runs very quickly over the earth at a rapidly-increasing speed, until sufficient momentum is obtained for the machine to lift itself into the air. In the case of the water-plane the pilot has to glide or "taxi" by means of a float or floats over the waves until the machine acquires flying speed.
Now the land resistance to the rubber-tired wheels is very small when compared with the water resistance to the floats, and the faster the craft goes the greater is the resistance. The great problem which the constructor has had to solve is to build a machine fitted with floats which will leave the water easily, which will preserve the lateral balance of the machine, and which will offer the minimum resistance in the air.
A short flat-bottomed float, such as that known as the Fabre, is good at getting off from smooth water, but is frequently damaged when the sea is rough. A long and narrow float is referable for rough water, as it is able to cut through the waves; but comparatively little "lift" is obtained from it.
Some designers have provided their water-planes with two floats; others advocate a single loat. The former makes the machine more stable when at rest on the water, but a great rawback is that the two-float machine is affected by waves more than a machine fitted with a single float; for one float may be on the crest of a wave and the other in the dip. This is not the case with the single-float water-plane, but on the other hand this type is less stable than the other when at rest.
Sometimes the floats become waterlogged, and so add considerably to the weight of the machine. Thus in Mr. Hawker's flight round Britain, the pilot and his passenger had to pump about ten gallons of water out of one of the floats before the machine could rise properly. Floats are usually made with watertight compartments, and are composed of several thin layers of wood, riveted to a wooden framework.
There is another technical question to be considered in the fixing of the floats, namely, the fore-and-aft balance of the machine in the air. The propeller of a water-plane has to be set higher than that of a land aeroplane, so that it may not come into contact with the waves. This tends to tip the craft forwards, and thus make the nose of the float dig in the water. To overcome this the float is set well forward of the centre of gravity, and though this counteracts the thrust when the craft "taxies" along the waves, it endangers its fore-and-aft stability when aloft.
CHAPTER XXXV
A Famous British Inventor of the Water-plane
Though Harry Hawker made such a brilliant and gallant attempt to win the L5000 prize, we must not forget that great credit is due to Mr. Sopwith, who designed the water-plane, and to Mr. Green, the inventor of the engine which made such a flight possible, and enabled the pilot to achieve a feat never before approached in any part of the world.
The life-story of Mr. "Tommy" Sopwith is almost a romance. As a lad he was intensely interested in mechanics, and we can imagine him constructing all manner of models, and enquiring the why and the wherefore of every mechanical toy with which he came into contact.
At the early age of twenty-one he commenced a motor business, but about this time engineers and mechanics all over the country were becoming greatly interested in the practical possibilities of aviation. Mr. Sopwith decided to learn to fly, and in 1910, after continued practice in a Howard Wright biplane, he had become a proficient pilot. So rapid was his progress that by the end of the year he had won the magnificent prize of L4000 generously offered by Baron de Forest for the longest flight made by an all-British machine from England to the Continent. In this
flight he covered 177 miles, from Eastchurch, Isle of Sheppey, to the Belgian frontier, in three and a half hours.
If Mr. Sopwith had been in any doubt as to the wisdom of changing his business this remarkable achievement alone must have assured him that his future career lay in aviation. In 1911 he was graciously received by King George V at Windsor Castle, after having flown from Brooklands and alighted on the East Terrace of the famous castle.
In the same year he visited America, and astonished even that go-ahead country with some skilful flying feats. To show the practical possibilities of the aeroplane he overtook the liner Olympic, after she had left New York harbour on her homeward voyage, and dropped aboard a parcel addressed to a passenger. On his return to England he competed in the first Aerial Derby, the course being a circuit of London, representing a distance of 81 miles. In this race he made a magnificent flight in a 70-horse-power Bleriot monoplane, and came in some fifteen minutes before Mr. Hamel, the second pilot home. So popular was his victory that Mr. Grahame-White and several other officials of the London Aerodrome carried him shoulder high from his machine.
From this time we hear little of Mr. Sopwith as a pilot, for, like other famous airmen, such as Louis Bleriot, Henri Farman, and Claude Grahame-White, who jumped into fame by success in competition flying, he has retired with his laurels, and now devotes his efforts to the construction of machines. He bids fair to be equally successful as a constructor of air-craft as he formerly was as a pilot of flying machines. The Sopwith machines are noted for their careful design and excellent workmanship. They are made by the Sopwith Aviation Company, Ltd., whose works are at Kingston-on-Thames. Several water-planes have been built there for the Admiralty, and land machines for the War Office. Late in 1913 Mr. Hawker left Britain for Australia to give demonstrations in the Sopwith machine to the Government of his native country.
A fine list of records has for long stood to the credit of the Sopwith biplane. Among these are:
British Height Record (Pilot only) ... ... 11,450 feet
" " " (Pilot and 1 Passenger) 12,900 "
" " " (Pilot and 2 Passengers) 10,600 "
World's " " (Pilot and 3 Passengers) 8,400 "
Many of the Sopwith machines used in the European War were built specially to withstand rough climate and heavy winds, and thus they were able to work in almost every kind of weather. It was this fact, coupled with the indomitable spirit of adventure inherent in men of British race, that made British airmen more than hold their own with both friend and foe in the war.
CHAPTER XXXVI
Sea-planes for Warfare
"Even in the region of the air, into which with characteristic British prudence we have moved with some tardiness, the Navy need not fear comparison with the Navy of any other country. The British sea-plane, although still in an empirical stage, like everything else in this sphere of warlike operations, has reached a point of progress in advance of anything attained elsewhere.
"Our hearts should go out to-night to those brilliant officers, Commander Samson and his band of brilliant pioneers, to whose endeavours, to whose enterprise, to whose devotion it is due that in an incredibly short space of time our naval aeroplane service has been raised to that primacy from which it must never be cast down.
"It is not only in naval hydroplanes that we must have superiority. The enduring safety of this country will not be maintained by force of arms unless over the whole sphere of aerial development we are able to make ourselves the first nation. That will be a task of long duration. Many difficulties have to be overcome. Other countries have started sooner. The native genius of France, the indomitable perseverance of Germany, have produced results which we at the present time cannot equal."
So said Mr. Winston Churchill at the Lord Mayor's Banquet held in London in 1913, and I have quoted his speech because such a statement, made at such a time, clearly shows the attitude of the British Government toward this new arm of Imperial Defence.
In bygone days the ocean was the great highway which united the various quarters of the Empire, and, what was even more important from the standpoint of our country's defence, it was a formidable barrier between Britain and her Continental neighbours,
"Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house."
But the ocean is no longer the only highway, for the age of aerial navigation has arrived, and, as one writer says: "Every argument which impelled us of old to fight for the dominion of the sea has apparently been found valid in relation to the supremacy of the air."
From some points of view this race between nations for naval and aerial supremacy may be unfortunate, but so long as the fighting instinct of man continues in the human race, so long as rivalry exists between nations, so long must we continue to strengthen our aerial position.
Britain is slow to start on any great venture where great change is effected. Our practice is rather to wait and see what other nations are doing; and there is something to be said for this
method of procedure.
In the art of aviation, and in the construction of air-craft, our French, German, and American rivals were very efficient pacemakers in the aerial race for supremacy, and during the years 1909-12 we were in grave peril of being left hopelessly behind. But in 1913 we realized the vital importance to the State of capturing the first place in aviation, particularly that of aerial supremacy at sea, for the Navy is our first line of defence. So rapid has been our progress that we are quite the equal of our French and German rivals in the production of aeroplanes, and in sea-planes we are far ahead of them, both in design and construction, and the war has proved that we are ahead in the art of flight.
The Naval Air Service before the war had been establishing a chain of air stations round the coast. These stations are at Calshot, on Southampton Water, the Isle of Grain, off Sheerness, Leven, on the Firth of Forth, Cromarty, Yarmouth, Blythe, and Cleethorpes.
But what is even more important is the fact that the Government is encouraging sea-plane constructors to go ahead as fast as they can in the production of efficient machines. Messrs. Short Brothers, the Sopwith Aviation Company, and Messrs. Roe are building high-class machines for sea work which can beat anything turned out abroad. Our newest naval water-planes are fitted with British-built wireless apparatus of great range of action, and Messrs. Short Brothers are at the present time constructing for the Admiralty, at their works in the Isle of Sheppey, a fleet of fighting water-planes capable of engaging and destroying the biggest dirigible air-ships.
In 1913 aeroplanes took a very prominent part in our naval manoeuvres, and the cry of the battleship captains was: "Give us water-planes. Give us them of great size and power, large enough to carry a gun and gun crew, and capable of taking twelve-hour cruises at a speed much greater than that of the fastest dirigible air-ship, and we shall be on the highroad to aerial supremacy at sea."
The Admiralty, acting on this advice, at once began to co-operate with the leading firms of aeroplane constructors, and at a great rate machines of all sizes and designs have been turned out. There were light single-seater water-planes able to maintain a speed of over a mile a minute; there were also larger machines for long-distance flying which could carry two passengers. The machines were so designed that their wings could be folded back along their bodies, and their wires, struts, and so on packed into the main parts of the craft, so that they were almost as compact as the body of a bird at rest on its perch, and they took up comparatively little space on board ship.
A brilliantly executed raid was carried out on Cuxhaven, an important German naval base, by seven British water-planes, on Christmas Day, 1914. The water-planes were escorted across the North Sea by a light cruiser and destroyer force, together with submarines. They left the war-ships in the vicinity of Heligoland and flew over Cuxhaven, discharging bombs on points of military significance, and apparently doing considerable damage to the docks and shipping. The British ships remained off the coast for three hours in order to pick up the returning airmen,
and during this time they were attacked by dirigibles and submarines, without, however, suffering damage. Six of the sea-planes returned safely to the ships, but one was wrecked in Heligoland Bight.
But the present efficient sea-plane is a development of the war. In the early days many of the raids of the "naval wing" were carried out in land-going aeroplanes. Now the R.N.A.S., which came into being as a separate service in July, 1914, possess two main types of flying machine, the flying boat and the twin float, both types being able to rise from and alight upon the sea, just as an aeroplane can leave and return to the land. Many brilliant raids stand to the credit of the R.N.A.S. The docks at Antwerp, submarine bases at Ostend, and all Germany's fortified posts on the Belgian coast, have seldom been free from their attentions. And when, under the stress of public outcry, the Government at last gave its consent to a measure of "reprisals" it was the R.N.A.S. which opened the campaign with a raid upon the German town of Mannheim.
As the war continued the duties of the naval pilot increased. He played a great part in the ceaseless hunt for submarines. You must often have noticed how easily fish can be seen from a bridge which are quite invisible from the banks of the river. On this principle the submarine can be "spotted" by air-craft, and not until the long silence upon naval affairs is broken, at the end of the war, shall we know to what extent we are indebted to naval airmen for that long list of submarines which, in the words of the German reports, "failed to return" to their bases.
In addition to the "Blimps" of which mention has been made, the Royal Naval Air Service are in charge of air-ships known as the Coast Patrol type, which work farther out to sea, locating minefields and acting as scouts for the great fleet of patrol vessels. The Service has gathered laurels in all parts of the globe, its achievements ranging from an aerial food service into beleaguered Kut to the discovery of the German cruiser Konigsberg, cunningly camouflaged up an African creek.
CHAPTER XXXVII
The First Man to Fly in Britain
The honour of being the first man to fly in this country is claimed by Mr. A. V. Roe, head of the well-known firm A. V. Roe & Co., of Manchester, and constructor of the highly-efficient Avro
machines.
As a youth Roe's great hobby was the construction of toy models of various forms of machinery, and later on he achieved considerable success in the production of aeroplane models. All manner of novelties were the outcome of his fertile brain, and as it has been truly remarked, "his novelties have the peculiarity, not granted to most pioneers, of being in one respect or another ahead of his contemporaries." In addition, he studied the flight of birds.
In the early days of aviation Mr. Roe was a firm believer in the triplane form of machine, and his first experiments in flight were made with a triplane equipped with an engine which developed only 9 horse-power.
Later on, he turned his attention to the biplane, and with this craft he has been highly successful. The Avro biplane, produced in 1913, was one of the very best machines which appeared in that eventful year. The Daily Telegraph, when relating its performances, said: "The spectators at Hendon were given a remarkable demonstration of the wonderful qualities of this fine Avro biplane, whose splendid performances stamped it as one of the finest aeroplanes ever designed, if not indeed the finest of all".
This craft is fitted with an 80-horse-power Gnome engine, and is probably the fastest passenger-carrying biplane of its type in the world. Its total weight, with engine, fuel for three hours, and a passenger, is 1550 pounds, and it has a main-plane surface of 342 square feet.
Not only can the biplane maintain such great speed, but, what is of great importance for observation purposes, it can fly at the slow rate of 30 miles per hour. We have previously remarked that a machine is kept up in the air by the speed it attains; if its normal flying speed be much reduced the machine drops to earth unless the rate of flying is accelerated by diving, or other means.
What Harry Hawker is to Mr. Sopwith so is F. P. Raynham to Mr. Roe. This skilful pilot learned to fly at Brooklands, and during the last year or two he has been continuously engaged in testing Avro machines, and passing them through the Army reception trials. In the "Aerial Derby" of 1913 Mr. Raynham piloted an 80-horse-power Avro biplane, and came in fourth.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
The Royal Flying Corps and Royal Naval Air Service
The year 1912 was marked by the institution of the Royal Flying Corps. The new corps, which was so soon to make its mark in the greatest of all wars, consisted of naval and military "wings". In those early days the head-quarters of the corps were at Eastchurch, and there both naval and military officers were trained in aviation. In an arm of such rapid—almost miraculous--development as Service flying to go back a period of six years is almost to take a plunge into ancient history. Designs, engines, guns, fittings, signals of those days are now almost archaic. The British engine of reliable make had not yet been evolved, and the aeroplane generally was a conglomerate affair made up of parts assembled from various parts of the Continent. The present-day sea-plane was yet to come, and naval pilots shared the land-going aeroplanes of their military brethren. In the days when Bleriot provided a world sensation by flying across the Channel the new science was kept alive mainly by the private enterprise of newspapers and aeroplane manufacturers. The official attitude, as is so often the case in the history of inventions, was as frigid as could be. The Government looked on with a cold and critical eye, and could not be touched either in heart or in pocket.
But with the institution of the Royal Flying Corps the official heart began to warm slightly, and certain tests were laid down for those manufacturers who aspired to sell their machines to the new arm of the Service. These tests, providing for fuel capacity up to 4.0 miles, speeds up to 85 miles an hour, and heights up to 3500 feet, would now be regarded as very elementary affairs. "Looping the loop" was still a dangerous trick for the exhibiting airman and not an evolution; while the "nose-dive" was an uncalculated entry into the next world.
The first important stage in the history of the new arm was reached in July, 1914, when the wing system was abolished, and the Royal Naval Air Service became a separate unit of the Imperial Forces. The first public appearance of the sailor airmen was at a proposed review of the fleet by the King at a test mobilization. The King was unable to attend, but the naval pilots carried out their part of the programme very creditably considering the polyglot nature of their sea-planes. A few weeks later and the country was at war.
There can be no doubt that the Great War has had an enormous forcing influence upon the science of aviation. In times of peace the old game of private enterprise and official neglect would possibly have been carried on in well-marked stages. But with the terrific incentive of victory before them, all Governments fostered the growth of the new arm by all the means in their power. It became a race between Allied and enemy countries as to who first should attain the mastery of the air. The British nation, as usual, started well behind in the race, and their handicap would have been increased to a dangerous extent had Germany not been obsessed by the possibilities of the air-ship as opposed to the aeroplane. Fortunately for us the Zeppelin, as has been described in an earlier chapter, failed to bring about the destruction anticipated by its inventor, and so we gained breathing space for catching up the enemy in the building and equipment of aeroplanes and the training of pilots and observers.
War has set up its usual screens, and the writer is only permitted a very vague and impressionistic picture of the work of the R.F.C. and R.N.A.S. Numerical details and localities must be rigorously suppressed. Descriptions of the work of the Flying Service must be almost as bald as those laconic reports sent in by naval and military airmen to head-quarters. But there is such an accomplishment as reading between the lines.
The flying men fall naturally into two classes--pilots and observers. The latter, of course, act as aerial gunners. The pilots have to pass through three, and observers two, successive courses of training in aviation. Instruction is very detailed and thorough as befits a career which, in addition to embracing the endless problems of flight, demands knowledge of wireless telegraphy, photography, and machine gunnery.
Many of the officers are drafted into the Royal Flying Corps from other branches of the Service, but there are also large numbers of civilians who take up the career. In their case they are first trained as cadets, and, after qualifying for commissions, start their training in aviation at one of the many schools which have now sprung up in all parts of the country.
When the actual flying men are counted in thousands some idea may be gained of the great organization required for the Corps—the schools and flying grounds, the training and activities of the mechanics, the workshops and repair shops, the storage of spare parts, the motor transport, &c. As in other departments of the Service, women have come forward and are doing excellent and most responsible work, especially in the motor-transport section.
A very striking feature of the Corps is the extreme youth of the
members, many of the most daring fighters in the air being mere boys of twenty.
The Corps has the very pick of the youth and daring and enterprise of the country. In the days of the old army there existed certain unwritten laws of precedence as between various branches of the Service. If such customs still prevail it is certain that the very newest arm would take pride of place. The flying man has recaptured some of the glamour and romance which encircled the knight-errant of old. He breathes the very atmosphere of dangerous adventure. Life for him is a series of thrills, any one of which would be sufficient to last the ordinary humdrum citizen for a lifetime. Small wonder that the flying man has captured the interest and affection of the people, and all eyes follow these trim, smart, desperadoes of the air in their passage through our cities.
As regards the work of the flying man the danger curve seems to be changing. On the one hand the training is much more severe and exacting than formerly was the case, and so carries a greater element of danger. On the other hand on the battle-front fighting information has in great measure taken the place of the system of men going up "on their own". They are perhaps not so liable to meet with a numerical superiority on the part of enemy machines, which spelt for them almost certain destruction.
For a long time the policy of silence and secrecy which screened "the front" from popular gaze kept us in ignorance of the achievements of our airmen. But finally the voice of the people prevailed in their demand for more enlightenment. Names of regiments began to be mentioned in connection with particular successes. And in the same way the heroes of the R.F.C. and R.N.A.S. were allowed to reap some of the laurels they deserved.
It began to be recognized that publication of the name of an airman who had destroyed a Zeppelin, for instance, did not constitute any vital information to the enemy. In a recent raid upon London the names of the two airmen, Captain G. H. Hackwill, R.F.C., and Lieutenant C. C. Banks, R.F.C., who destroyed a Gotha, were given out in the House of Commons and saluted with cheers. In the old days the secretist party would have regarded this publication as a policy which led the nation in the direct line of "losing the war".
In the annals of the Flying Service, where dare-devilry is taken as a matter of course and hairbreadth escapes from death are part of the daily routine, it is difficult to select adventures for
special mention; but the following episodes will give a general idea of the work of the airman in war.
The great feat of Sub-Lieutenant R. A. J. Warneford, R.N.A.S., who single-handed attacked and destroyed a Zeppelin, has already been referred to in Chapter XIII. Lieutenant Warneford was the second on the list of airmen who won the coveted Cross, the first recipient being Second-Lieutenant Barnard Rhodes-Moorhouse, for a daring and successful bomb-dropping raid upon Courtrai in April, 1915. As has happened in so many cases, the award to Lieutenant Rhodes-Moorhouse was a posthumous one, the gallant airman having been mortally wounded during the raid, in spite of which he managed by flying low to reach his destination and make his report.
A writer of adventure stories for boys would be hard put to it to invent any situation more thrilling than that in which Squadron-Commander Richard Bell Davies, D.S.O., R.N., and Flight Sub-Lieutenant Gilbert Formby Smylie, R.N., found themselves while carrying out an air attack upon Ferrijik junction. Smylie's machine was subjected to such heavy fire that it was disabled, and the airman was compelled to plane down after releasing all his bombs but one, which failed to explode. The moment he alighted he set fire to his machine. Presently Smylie saw his companion about to descend quite close to the burning machine. There was infinite danger from the bomb. It was a question of seconds merely before it must explode. So Smylie rushed over to the machine, took hasty aim with his revolver, and exploded the bomb, just before the Commander came within the danger zone. Meanwhile the enemy had commenced to gather round the two airmen, whereupon Squadron-Commander Davies coolly took up the Lieutenant on his machine and flew away with him in safety back to their lines. Davies, who had already won the D.S.O., was given the V.C., while his companion in this amazing adventure was granted the Distinguished Service Cross.
The unexpectedness, to use no stronger term, of life in the R.F.C. in war-time is well exemplified by the adventure which befell Major Rees. The pilot of a "fighter", he saw what he took to be a party of air machines returning from a bombing expedition. Proceeding to join them in the character of escort, Major Rees made the unpleasant discovery that he was just about to join a little party of ten enemy machines. But so far from being dismayed, the plucky airman actually gave battle to the whole ten. One he quickly drove "down and out", as the soldiers say. Attacked by five others, he damaged two of them and dispersed the remainder. Not content with this, he gave chase to two more, and only broke off the engagement when he had received a wound in the thigh. Then he flew home to make the usual laconic report.
No record of heroism in the air could be complete without mention of Captain Ball, who has already figured in these pages. When awarded the V.C. Captain Ball was already the holder of the following honours: D.S.0., M.C., Cross of a Chevalier of the Legion of Honour, and the Russian order of St. George. This heroic boy of twenty was a giant among a company of giants. Here follows the official account which accompanied his award:--
"Lieutenant (temporary Captain) ALBERT BALL, D.S.O., M.C., late Notts and Derby Regiment, and R.F.C.
"For most conspicuous and consistent bravery from April 25 to May 6, 1917, during which period Captain Ball took part in twenty-six combats in the air and destroyed eleven hostile aeroplanes, drove down two out of control, and formed several others to land.
"In these combats Captain Ball, flying alone, on one occasion fought six hostile machines, twice he fought five, and once four.
"While leading two other British aeroplanes he attacked an enemy formation of eight. On each of these occasions he brought down at least one enemy.
"Several times his aeroplane was badly damaged, once so severely that but for the most delicate handling his machine would have collapsed, as nearly all the control wires had been shot away. On returning with a damaged machine, he had always to be restrained from immediately going out on another.
"In all Captain Ball has destroyed forty-three German aeroplanes and one balloon, and has always displayed most exceptional courage, determination, and skill."
So great was Captain Ball's skill as a fighter in the air that for a time he was sent back to England to train new pilots in the schools. But the need for his services at the front was even greater, and it jumped with his desires, for the whole tone of his letters breathes the joy he found in the excitements of flying and fighting. He declares he is having a "topping time", and exults in boyish fashion at a coming presentation to Sir Douglas Haig. It is not too much to say that the whole empire mourned when Captain Ball finally met his death in the air near La Bassee in May, 1917.
CHAPTER XXXIX
Aeroplanes in the Great War
"Aeroplanes and airships would have given us an enormous advantage against the Boers. The difficulty of laying ambushes and traps for isolated columns--a practice at which the enemy were peculiarly adept--would have been very much greater. Some at least of the regrettable reverses which marked the early stages of the campaign could in all probability have been avoided."
So wrote Lord Roberts, our veteran field-marshal, in describing the progress of the Army during recent years. The great soldier was a man who always looked ahead. After his great and strenuous career, instead of taking the rest which he had so thoroughly earned, he spent laborious days travelling up and down the country, warning the people of danger ahead; exhorting them to learn to drill and to shoot; thus attempting to lay the foundation of a great civic army. But his words, alas! fell upon deaf ears--with results so tragic as hardly to bear dwelling upon.
But even "Bobs", seer and true prophet as he was, could hardly have foreseen the swift and dramatic development of war in the air. He had not long been laid to rest when aeroplanes began to be talked about, and, what is more important, to be built, not in hundreds but in thousands. At the time of writing, when we are well into the fourth year of the war, it seems almost impossible for the mind to go back to the old standards, and to take in the statement that the number of machines which accompanied the original Expeditionary Force to France was eighty! Even if one were not entirely ignorant of the number and disposition of the aerial fighting forces over the world-wide battle-ground, the Defence of the Realm Act would prevent us from making public the information. But when, more than a year ago, America entered the war, and talked of building 10,000 aeroplanes, no one gasped. For even in those days one thought of aeroplanes not in hundreds but in tens of thousands.
Before proceeding to give a few details of the most recent work of the Royal Flying Corps and Royal Naval Air Service, mention must be made of the armament of the aeroplane. In the first place, it should be stated that the war has gradually evolved three distinct types of flying machine: (1) the "general-purposes" aeroplane; (2) the giant bomb dropper; (3) the small single-seater "fighter".
As the description implies, the first machine fills a variety of roles, and the duties of its pilots grow more manifold as the war progresses. "Spotting" for the artillery far behind the enemy's lines; "searching" for ammunition dumps, for new dispositions by the enemy of men, material, and guns; attacking a convoy or bodies of troops on the march; sprinkling new trenches with machine-gun fire, or having a go at an aerodrome--any wild form of aerial adventure might be included in the diary of the pilot of a "general-purposes" machine.
It was in order to clear the air for these activities that the "fighter" came into being, and received its baptism of fire at the Battle of the Somme. At first the idea of a machine for fighting only, was ridiculed. Even the Germans, who, in a military sense, were awake and plotting when other nations were dozing in the sunshine of peace, did not think ahead and imagine the aerial duel between groups of aeroplanes armed with machine-guns. But soon the mastery of the air became of paramount importance, and so the fighter was evolved. Nobly, too, did the men of all nations rise to these heroic and dangerous opportunities. The Germans were the first to boast of the exploits of their fighting airmen, and to us in Britain the names of Immelmann and Bolcke were known long before those of any of our own fighters. The former claimed not far short of a hundred victims before he was at last brought low in June, 1916. His letters to his family were published soon after his death, and do not err on the side of modesty.
On 11th August, 1915, he writes: "There is not much doing here. Ten minutes after Bolcke and I go up, there is not an enemy airman to be seen. The English seem to have lost all pleasure in flying. They come over very, very seldom."
When allowance has been made for German brag, these statements throw some light upon the standard of British flying at a comparatively early date in the war. Certainly no German airman could have made any such complaint a year later. In 1917 the German airmen were given all the fighting they required and a bit over.
Certainly a very different picture is presented by the dismal letters which Fritz sent home during the great Ypres offensive of August, 1917. In these letters he bewails the fact that one after another of his batteries is put out of action owing to the perfect "spotting" of the British airmen, and arrives at the sad conclusion that Germany has lost her superiority in the air.
An account has already been given of the skill and prowess of Captain Ball. On his own count--and he was not the type of man to exaggerate his prowess--he found he had destroyed fifty machines, although actually he got the credit for forty-one. This slight discrepancy may be explained by the scrupulous care which is taken to check the official returns. The air fighter, though morally certain of the destruction of a certain enemy aeroplane, has to bring independent witnesses to substantiate his claim, and when out "on his own" this is no easy matter. Without this check, though occasionally it acts harshly towards the pilot, there might be a tendency to exaggerate enemy losses, owing to the difficulty of distinguishing between an aeroplane put out of action and one the pilot of which takes a sensational "nose dive" to get out of danger.
One of the most striking illustrations of the growth of the aeroplane as a fighting force is afforded by the great increase in the heights at which they could scout, take photographs, and fight. In Sir John French's dispatches mention is made of bomb-dropping from 3000 feet. In these days the aerial battleground has been extended to anything up to 20,000 feet. Indeed, so brisk has been the duel between gun and aeroplane, that nowadays airmen have often to seek the other margin of safety, and can defy the anti-aircraft guns only by flying so low as just to escape the ground. The general armament of a "fighter" consists of a maxim firing through the propeller, and a Lewis gun at the rear on a revolving gun-ring.
It is pleasant to record that the Allies kept well ahead of the enemy in their use of aerial photography. Before a great offensive some thousands of photographs had to be taken of enemy dispositions by means of cameras built into the aeroplanes.
Plates were found to stand the rough usage better than films, and not for the first time in the history of mechanics the man beat the machine, a skilful operator being found superior to the ingenious automatic plate-fillers which had been devised.
The counter-measure to this ruthless exposure of plans was camouflage. As if by magic-tents, huts, dumps, guns began, as it were, to sink into the scenery. The magicians were men skilled in the use of brush and paint-pot, and several leading figures in the world of art lent their services to the military authorities as directors of this campaign of concealment. In this connection it is interesting to note that both Admiralty and War Office took measures to record the pictorial side of the Great War. Special commissions were given to a notable band of artists working in their different "lines". An abiding record of the great struggle will be afforded by the black-and-white work of Muirhead Bone, James M'Bey, and Charles Pears; the portraits, landscapes, and seascapes of Sir John Lavery, Philip Connard, Norman Wilkinson, and Augustus John, who received his commission from the Canadian Government.
CHAPTER XL
The Atmosphere and the Barometer
For the discovery of how to find the atmospheric pressure we are indebted to an Italian named Torricelli, a pupil of Galileo, who carried out numerous experiments on the atmosphere toward the close of the sixteenth century.
Torricelli argued that, as air is a fluid, if it had weight it could be made to balance another fluid of known weight. In his experiments he found that if a glass tube about 3 feet in length, open at one end only, and filled with mercury, were placed vertically with the open end submerged in a cup of mercury, some of the mercury in the tube descended into the cup, leaving a column of mercury about 30 inches in height in the tube. From this it was deduced that the pressure of air on the surface of the mercury in the cup forced it up the tube to the height Of 30 inches, and this was so because the weight of a column of air from the cup to the top of the atmosphere was only equal to that of a column of mercury of the same base and 30 inches high.
Torricelli's experiment can be easily repeated. Take a glass tube about 3 feet long, closed at one end and open at the other; fill it as full as possible with mercury. Then close the open end with the thumb, and invert the tube in a basin of mercury so that the open end dips beneath the surface. The mercury in the tube will be found to fall a short distance, and if the height of the column from the surface of the mercury in the basin be measured you will find it will be about 30 inches. As the tube is closed at the top there is no downward pressure of air at that point, and the space above the mercury in the tube is quite empty: it forms a VACUUM. This vacuum is generally known as the TORRICELLIAN VACUUM, after the name of its discoverer.
Suppose, now, a hole be bored through the top of the tube above the column of mercury, the mercury will immediately fall in the tube until it stands at the same level as the mercury in the basin, because the upward pressure of air through the liquid in the basin would be counterbalanced by the downward pressure of the air at the top, and the mercury would fall by its own weight.
A few years later Professor Boyle proposed to use the instrument to measure the height of mountains. He argued that, since the pressure of the atmosphere balanced a column of mercury 30 inches high, it followed that if one could find the weight of the mercury column one would also find the weight of a column of air standing on a base of the same size, and stretching away indefinitely into space. It was found that a column of mercury in a tube having a sectional area of 1 square inch, and a height of 30 inches, weighed 15 pounds; therefore the weight of the atmosphere, or air pressure, at sea-level is about 15 pounds to the square inch. The ordinary mercury barometer is essentially a Torricellian tube graduated so that the varying heights of the mercury column can be used as a measure of the varying atmospheric pressure due to change of weather or due to alteration of altitude. If we take a mercury barometer up a hill we will observe that the mercury falls. The weight of atmosphere being less as we ascend, the column of mercury supported becomes smaller.
Although the atmosphere has been proved to be over 200 miles high, it has by no means the same density throughout. Like all gases, air is subject to the law that the density increases directly as the pressure, and thus the densest and heaviest layers are those nearest the sea-level, because the air near the earth's surface has to support the pressure of all the air above it. As airmen rise into the highest portions of the atmosphere the height of the column of air above them decreases, and it follows that, having a shorter column of air to support, those portions are less dense than those lower down. So rare does the atmosphere become, when great altitudes are reached, that at a height of seven miles breathing is well-nigh impossible, and at far lower altitudes than this airmen have to be supported by inhalations of oxygen.
One of the greatest altitudes was reached by two famous balloonists, Messrs. Coxwell and Glaisher. They were over seven miles in the air when the latter fell unconscious, and the plucky aeronauts were only saved by Mr. Coxwell pulling the valve line with his teeth, as all his limbs were disabled.
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