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The Aeroplane in War
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       :PG.Title: The Aeroplane in War
       :PG.Id: 63597
       :PG.Rights: Public Domain
       :PG.Producer: James Simmons
       :PG.Credits: This file was produced from page images at the Internet Archive.
       :DC.Creator: Claude Grahame-White and Harry Harper
       :DC.Title: The Aeroplane in War
       :DC.Language: en
       :DC.Created: 1912
       :PG.Released: 2020-11-01
       :coverpage: images/CoverImage.jpg

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.. topic:: Transcriber's Note

    This book was transcribed from scans of the original found at the Internet Archive. 
    I have rotated some images. The name Blériot in the original book has the accented e
    only in captions to illustrations. I have used the accented version in the rest of the
    text as well. There are several variant spellings in the text which I have left alone.

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  :alt: CLAUDE GRAHAME-WHITE. 

  CLAUDE GRAHAME-WHITE. 
  Winner of the Gordon-Bennett Aviation Cup, 1910; author of "The Story of the Aeroplane"; and joint author, with Harry Harper, of "The Aeroplane: Past, Present, and Future," "Heroes of the Air," and "The Aeroplane in War." 
   
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       THE AEROPLANE 

       IN WAR 

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       BY 

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       CLAUDE GRAHAME-WHITE 

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       AND 

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       HARRY HARPER 

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       AUTHORS OF "THE AEROPLANE: PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE" 

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       PHILADELPHIA 
       
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       \J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY 
       
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       LONDON: T. WERNER LAURIE 

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PREFACE
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Although it is still a crude machine—in view of 
the perfected apparatus which is the aim of thoughtful 
designers—the aeroplane has demonstrated, in a 
conclusive way, its value as an instrument of war. 

In peace manœuvres in France and Germany, and 
under actual war conditions in Tripoli, scouting 
machines have proved their ability to pierce most 
effectually what is known as "the fog of war." 
Air-scouts have, indeed, revealed the dispositions of an 
enemy so precisely as to make it necessary to 
alter—at a moment's notice—an entire plan of campaign. 

Ceasing to be fair-weather craft, powerful, 
modern-type aeroplanes can combat high and gusty winds, 
and are already capable of being used, for 
reconnoitring flights, on at least 80 per cent of the days 
of the year. No longer unreliable, they have become 
practical weapons. 

A squadron of war aeroplanes, carrying pilots and 
observers, can, as has been shown again and again, 
lay bare the disposition of a widespread battle-front. 
In one hour, they can perform the reconnoitring work 
which has hitherto been carried out in a day, and in 
a necessarily hit-or-miss fashion, by cavalry and other 
scouts. 

The use of well-trained corps of military airmen 
will revolutionise the tactics of war. No longer will 
two Commanders-in-Chief grope in the dark. They 
will sit, so to speak, on either side of a chess-board, 
which will represent the battlefield. Each will watch 
the other's moves; nothing will be concealed. From 
a blundering, scrambling moving about of masses of 
men, modern warfare will become—through the 
advent of the aeroplane—an intellectual process. 

The Commander-in-Chief who has no proper 
air-corps, in the next great war, will be in a hopeless 
position. He will have lost a battle practically 
before it begins. Whereas his opponent will know 
exactly what *he* is doing, he will be able to obtain 
nothing but vague and confusing tidings as to the 
movements of the enemy. Imagine two armed men 
approaching each other, one being blindfolded. The 
Commander-in-Chief without aeroplanes will be like 
a blindfolded man. 

One nation stands head-and-shoulders above all 
others in the matter of her aerial equipment and 
experience. That nation is France. So far ahead 
is she that it will be a long time before other 
countries will be able to come up with her; but Germany 
is now making desperate efforts to do so. 

Until recently, it must be said, England lagged 
inactively not only behind France and Germany, in 
the organising of an air-corps, but even behind 
such countries as Austria, Italy, and Spain. 

Now, however, there are promises of a change. 
For this, mainly, we must thank the energy and 
enthusiasm of Colonel Seely, Parliamentary 
Under Secretary of State for War. When these lines are 
being read, British aeroplane manufacturers will be 
preparing for an important military trial of 
aeroplanes, which is to be held in England during the 
summer. 

The War Office has begun to buy aeroplanes, 
although on a small scale. We now have a Royal 
Flying Corps; a body of skilled airmen is being 
trained. But money is spent very sparingly. Our 
equipment, compared with that of France, is still a 
negligible quantity. In machines, and men, and, 
above all, in training, we are very far behind. 

Only by persistent and intelligently directed work, 
by the spending of more money, by the practical 
encouragement of manufacturers, and by the 
appointing of executive officers who are experts in their field 
of work, can we hope even to approach the 
organisation of the air-corps of France. 

But a beginning has certainly been made. By 
the end of the forthcoming flying season, we should 
have in England a small, but well-equipped air 
service. And the work of this corps will be its own 
advertisement. Once the potentialities of the war 
aeroplane are realised adequately, a stinting policy 
will be impossible. 

It is our aim, in this book, to show what the war 
aeroplane has done, and can do. At present, its 
work has been confined to scouting. But it has 
other, and grimmer possibilities. It can, and 
without doubt will, be used as an engine of 
destruction—not by means of the bomb-dropping attacks of a few 
aeroplanes, but by the organised onslaught of large 
squadrons of weight-lifting machines, which will be 
able to rain down tons of missiles over any given spot. 

And there is another possibility, also. Machines 
are carrying heavier loads every day. Soon the 
practicability of aeroplanes to transport 
troops—particularly in regard to hurrying up reinforcements 
in an emergency—will be demonstrated. 

When two opposing armies both have large fleets 
of war aeroplanes, and these machines take the air 
in squadrons, prior to a battle, what will happen 
when they come in contact with each other? 

The question is one which the greatest military 
experts are discussing. Obviously, there will be 
an aerial battle, each aeroplane corps seeking to 
cripple the other. Each Commander-in-Chief will 
in fact desire, above all else, to obtain supremacy of 
the air. If he can do so, it will have the effect of 
seriously handicapping his opponent. 

Thus—probably waged with light guns firing 
explosive shells—the next great war will begin, not 
on earth, but several thousand feet in the air. 

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Claude Grahame-White. 

Harry Harper. 

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London, 1912. 

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**CONTENTS**

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**ILLUSTRATIONS**

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FIRST SECTION REVIEW OF PROGRESS PRIOR TO THE FIRST MILITARY TESTS OF AEROPLANES
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\I. Dawn of flight—Encouragement in Europe and America—England's lost opportunities—The pioneers. 
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In order to pave the way for a description of what 
the war aeroplane, as we know it to-day, can 
accomplish, it is necessary to trace—although only 
briefly—the development of the heavier-than-air machine 
during recent years. 

One fact immediately claims the attention of any 
student of this question. He sees that England might 
to-day, had she not shown initial apathy, be the first 
nation in the world in the fostering, and 
development, of aerial navigation. 

Instead of holding such a proud position, 
however—and any nation may well be proud of having 
encouraged this new art—we suffer for having displayed 
a lack of interest in the conquest of the air, and 
for having given practically no help to far-seeing 
enthusiasts who first devoted themselves to the great 
problem.

There was no lack of pioneers in England; 
but, instead of giving them assistance, we 
discouraged them, with the result that such countries as 
France and Germany—wide awake to all forms of 
progress—have moved forward from one triumph to 
another. 

More than a hundred years ago, for instance, 
England had an opportunity of displaying a definite 
interest in flying. Sir George Cayley, a remarkably 
clever engineer, turned his attention to the design of 
a flying machine, and actually produced, in the year 
1809, plans of a machine which anticipated many 
constructional features of the monoplane as it is built 
to-day. Of course there was not, in those days, any 
such efficient motive power as is now supplied by the 
petrol engine; but Sir George Cayley lectured upon 
his ideas, and sought to interest people in them. 
Had his deductions been greeted with enthusiasm, 
it is not probable that any successful flying machine 
would immediately have been produced; the difficulty 
of finding a reliable propelling medium would have 
prevented this. But what a ready and encouraging 
acceptance of Sir George Cayley's pioneer work 
would inevitably have done, would have been to turn 
the minds of other inventors towards the problem, 
and so pave the way for a series of discoveries, each 
more important than its predecessor. 

The imaginations of those who might have 
exercised a great influence upon future progress were not 
fired, however; and the same remark applies to the 
efforts of those who followed in Sir George Cayley's 
footsteps, and endeavoured to give his ideas more 
practical shape. 

Stringfellow and Henson, for example, pored over 
the great engineer's drawings, and produced working 
models of a flying machine. Their apparatus was 
crude, it is true; but this toil represented so many 
steps forward along the path of progress. It had been 
man's ambition, for centuries, to fly; success could 
not be expected without infinite labour. Nothing 
definite came of the work of these pioneers, however. 
They had little encouragement; they were regarded 
as "cranks." The importance of the work they were 
engaged upon was not, indeed, realised. 

Now, as a striking contrast, let us turn to the 
reception which early enthusiasts received in other 
countries. Let us take France, for example. Ader, 
an electrical engineer, devised, in 1896, a very 
ingenious, bat-like aeroplane. With it, having fitted a 
small steam-engine, he actually achieved a short 
flight—or, rather, a brief "hop" from the ground. 

Instead of being greeted apathetically, or having 
his sanity doubted, Ader was promptly called to 
appear before the military authorities. They, after 
hearing his theories expounded, cheerfully voted him 
£20,000 in order that he might continue his 
experiments upon an adequate scale. Thus, even at this 
early stage, France revealed her keen interest in 
aerial navigation. Ader, lacking the petrol motor, 
could not carry his investigations much further. 
But the encouragement he received gave heart to 
other inventors. And so France went forward to 
success. 

America offers another example of a sane, 
far-seeing policy. Professor Langley, an eminent 
scientist, was making a series of wonderfully 
interesting model aeroplanes at about the time Ader was 
experimenting in France. To further his work, the 
American authorities very promptly came forward 
with a grant of £10,000. 

He, like Ader, was unable to carry his individual 
experiments to a successful issue; but further 
investigation, on the part of other workers, was greatly 
stimulated. It is interesting to note what position 
these two countries, which first encouraged flying, 
afterwards took when the aeroplane became a reality. 

To America, in the work of the Wright brothers, 
has gone the honour of the first practical flights with 
a heavier-than-air machine, while France is to-day 
the premier nation in the world in the development 
of airmanship. 

Thus it is legitimate to pass to a consideration of 
the first machines that flew, and consider their 
capabilities from the military point of view. The Wright 
biplane, naturally, is the first to attract attention, 
because it was as long ago as 1903 that these two 
quiet, determined Americans made their first 
successful flights. From a military aspect, this aeroplane 
had many drawbacks; and to cite them is instructive, 
seeing that, by this means, a reader will be better 
able to judge, later on, what vast strides towards 
perfection the aeroplane has already made. 

The first Wright biplane would, indeed, just fly; 
that was all. Its pilot only dared to leave the 
ground when an absolutely dead calm prevailed; he 
feared the overturning influence of even the smallest 
gust of wind. His engine, being then a novelty as 
applied to the aeroplane, required the most patient 
"tuning up" before even a brief flight could be 
essayed; and, when it was aloft, the machine only 
passed through the air quite close to the ground. 

Each flight had to be started by sliding the 
aeroplane forward along a rail; away from this rail, 
the machine was helpless. From the point of view 
of a military expert, indeed, this early machine could 
have been condemned upon several counts. It was 
unreliable. It could not fly in gusty winds; it was 
not portable; it could only take the air when launched 
from its rail. 

But the true expert is far-seeing. He makes 
light of present imperfections if, in any idea, he can 
see future developments of undoubted importance. 
Such an expert, for instance, was the late Captain 
Ferber, of the French Army. He was the first 
military officer to whom the task fell of reporting, for 
his Government, upon the capabilities of a military 
aeroplane. 

Representations were made by the Wright 
brothers to the French Government in the year 
1905—two years after their first flights. They had 
improved their machine considerably; they were 
now ready to carry a passenger; and they wished to 
sell their secret. So Captain Ferber was instructed 
to go to America and investigate their claims. 

The Wrights were anxious to sell their secret for 
a lump sum of money. They had begun their 
experiments in the humblest possible way, being small 
cycle-makers at Dayton, Ohio; and they were unable 
to protect, by patents, the machine which they had 
evolved by so vast an amount of patient work. 

Thus they sought to enter into negotiations with 
some Government. They asked for a guarantee 
that their machine would be bought, for a certain 
price, were it to perform a series of stipulated flights. 
Their position was, as a matter of fact, a somewhat 
awkward one. Even a brief examination of their 
aeroplane, by an expert, would have revealed its 
principle. 

In this quandary, they were led to approach the 
French Government. They chose France for a 
very good reason. Already, as has been indicated, 
this country was keenly alive to the possibilities of 
flying. The two brothers imagined, therefore, that 
they would be able to make their best bargain with 
the French Government. 

The practical interest which the French 
authorities took in the question of military flying was 
evidenced by their action when they received a 
communication from the Wright brothers. Although 
reports of the Wrights' experiments had been greeted, 
in Europe, with great scepticism, and there was 
reason, in view of the failure of other inventors, to 
doubt their claims, the French Government at once 
detailed Captain Ferber to make the long journey 
to Ohio, so as to go into the matter in a 
business-like way. 

Captain Ferber, who was one of the first officers in 
France to become actively interested in airmanship, 
duly visited America, and interviewed the Wright 
brothers. They could not show him their machine. 
Had they done so, their secret would have been 
revealed. Regarding the flights which they had made, 
up to this time, Captain Ferber had to rely, for 
testimony, upon the statements of certain responsible 
men living in Dayton, who had witnessed them. 

The position, so far as he was concerned, was 
rather an unsatisfactory one. It was like buying "a 
pig in a poke." But this officer, being a student of 
character, and an enthusiast regarding flight, saw 
what manner of men these two brothers were. He 
did not doubt their word, nor the statements of those 
who had seen them fly. So, when he returned to 
France, he recommended his Government to enter 
into negotiations with the Wrights, and buy their 
invention before any other nation took steps to 
secure it. 

It was a tribute to his foresight that he should 
have done this; but, for the time being, the 
negotiations fell through. The Wrights, for one thing, 
wanted a very considerable sum of money; and there 
was difficulty, also, in arranging what the series of 
tests of their aeroplane should be. Thus it was that, 
after many communications had passed between the 
interested parties, the matter stood in abeyance. 

In the meantime, however, other inventors were 
striving with the great problem. In France, in 
1906, Santos-Dumont effected "hops" with a 
machine like an exaggerated box-kite; and this led 
the way to the remarkable achievements of two 
particularly clever brothers, Charles and Gabriel 
Voisin. They busied themselves with a biplane 
which, at the end of 1907, they asked Henry 
Farman, a well-known racing motorist, to test for them. 

This led to the first famous flights of the Voisin 
machine at the military parade-ground of 
Issy-les-Moulineaux, outside Paris. France went wild with 
enthusiasm when this big, clumsy machine, piloted 
by the quick, agile Farman, succeeded in flying for a 
mile, and in making a turn while in the air. 

The Voisin aeroplane needed to run along the 
ground for quite a hundred yards before it could gain 
sufficient support from the air to enable it to rise. 
When it did so, it was only just able to skim along 
above the ground. Compared with present-day 
aeroplanes, it was an unwieldly, unsatisfactory machine; 
and, to make matters worse, its motor became 
overheated after only a minute or so's running. 

As a machine for military purposes, it would have 
been useless. But it represented a definite stage in 
the progress of aeroplaning. From this machine of 
the Voisin brothers, which Farman first flew, 
developed the great school of biplane construction in 
France. 

Also experimenting in France, at the same time as 
the Voisin brothers, was another great master of 
flight—M. Louis Blériot. His methods were 
original. He pinned his faith to the monoplane. 

II. First practical flights—The Wright brothers; the Voisins; Farman—The cross-Channel flight. 
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Hastening our review, in order to reach matters of 
more definite interest from the military point of view, 
we find that, in 1908, the Wright brothers made aerial 
history by a series of magnificent flights which were, 
however, unfortunately marred by a tragedy. 

Coming to France, Wilbur Wright flew for a 
couple of hours, without descending, at Le Mans. 
At about the same time, in America, Orville Wright 
was carrying out a series of demonstrations before 
the military authorities. He achieved remarkable 
success, particularly from a war point of view, by 
carrying a passenger in his machine for quite a 
long flight. 

.. figure:: images/Image2.jpg
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   :alt: THE NIEUPORT MONOPLANE.

   THE NIEUPORT MONOPLANE.
   Photo, M. Branger.
   This exceedingly interesting machine, which won the great French Military Trials, is generally admitted to be one of the most efficient flying machines in existence. A similar machine can be seen at work in Hendon, where it is piloted by Mr. Grahame-White.

Then, when taking up Lieutenant Selfridge, of the 
American army, he met with disaster. One of the 
propellers of his machine broke; it crashed to 
the ground from a height of about 100 feet. 
Lieutenant Selfridge was killed, being the first victim of 
the aeroplane, and Orville Wright broke his thigh. 
The accident, as may be imagined, cast a gloom over 
flying in America for a long time. 

Longer flights by Henry Farman, on an improved 
Voisin biplane, were also to be noted in the year 
1908; and thus the way is cleared for a description of 
the wonders achieved in 1909, when it may be said 
that the importance of the aeroplane, from a military 
point of view, was first demonstrated, and the 
attention of nations seriously directed towards the 
possibilities of this new "arm." 

Early in the summer of 1909, after innumerable 
disappointments, and the breaking-up of many 
experimental machines, Blériot began to achieve 
success with a simply-constructed monoplane, driven 
by an equally simple three-cylinder petrol motor; 
and, at the same time, another French monoplane, 
the Antoinette, larger than Blériot's, and having an 
eight-cylinder motor developing sixty horse-power, 
was also flying surprisingly well. 

It was in July, 1909, that these two machines, 
representing a distinct type, when compared with 
the biplane, were brought down to the French coast 
at Calais with the intention of invading England by 
air, and winning a prize of £1000 offered by the 
*Daily Mail*. Piloting his small monoplane was M. 
Blériot himself, while the Antoinette was flown by 
Mr Hubert Latham, an airman already famed for 
his daring. 

The method of Blériot's arrival at Calais gave 
promise of the eventual utility of his machine from 
the military point of view. The two wings of his 
monoplane could easily be detached. They were 
then folded on either side of the body of the machine; 
and, thus dismantled, it could be placed for 
transport upon an ordinary railway truck. 

In this fashion it reached Calais, greatly to the 
surprise of those who had, hitherto, only been 
familiar with the huge cases needed for the transport 
of biplanes. When taken from the railway van, the 
monoplane was tied with ropes behind a motor-car, 
and ran upon its own pneumatic-tyred wheels to the 
shelter prepared for it near the sand-hills of Les 
Baraques, a mile or so from Calais. 

Blériot, as history records, won the £1000 prize by 
flying across the Channel from France to England, 
just after the dawn on 25th July, 1909. He landed 
near Dover Castle, after a flight of thirty-seven 
minutes. Latham, unfortunate with his engine, made 
two attempts at the crossing, but fell into the sea on 
both occasions. 

Blériot's feat made a deep impression upon all 
thoughtful men, and particularly upon the military 
authorities in France. If such a flight could be 
achieved with a small, crude machine, what might 
not be possible with a perfected apparatus? This, 
naturally, was the question which was asked. 

In the next important demonstration of the 
possibilities of flight, which was made at the Rheims flying 
meeting, held in August, 1909, the French 
Government took a very active interest. They sent special 
representatives to this meeting—the first of its 
kind—to study the various types of flying machines which 
took part in the contests organised. As a further 
instance of the practical ideas already being displayed 
by military men in France, it may be mentioned that 
one of the competitors at this memorable flying 
meeting was the French officer whose work has previously 
been mentioned—Captain Ferber. He flew a Voisin 
biplane. It was not, unfortunately, very long after 
the Rheims meeting that this enthusiastic military 
airman met with his death at Boulogne, his loss being 
sincerely mourned by the French Government. His 
biplane overturned in a ditch, and he was killed by 
the heavy motor, which was torn from its bed, and 
fell upon him. 

III. Aeroplanes at Rheims, 1909—Wright, Voisin, Farman, Blériot, Antoinette—The Gnome engine—First military orders. 
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Seeing that the Rheims meeting of 1909 was the 
first occasion upon which a definite military 
inspection of aeroplanes was made, it should be interesting 
to describe the machines which were then available. 
Let us take, for example, the Wright biplane, of 
which we have previously spoken. This machine, 
as piloted at Rheims by Lefevre, Tissandier, and 
the Comte de Lambert, undoubtedly proved itself 
one of the best all-round machines then in existence. 

The aeroplane represented the usual biplane 
form of building, having one sustaining plane fixed 
above another, the two being held apart by wooden 
struts, made taut by cross-wiring. 

In front of these main-planes, upon outriggers, was 
a small double-plane elevator. At the rear of the 
main-planes, also carried upon outriggers, was a 
double-plane vertical rudder. The engine of the 
machine, set upon a wooden bed on the lower plane, 
actuated two wooden propellers, which—driven by 
chains—revolved in opposite directions behind the 
main-planes. 

The pilot's seat was on the front edge of the lower 
main-plane, and his control of the aeroplane, when 
in flight, was effected by means of two levers. One, 
moved forward and backward, actuated the elevating 
planes, and the other was given a dual motion. 
Moved to and fro, it operated the rudder of the 
aeroplane. Shifted from side to side, it warped the 
rear extremities of the main-planes, and so controlled 
the lateral stability of the aeroplane. 

This wing-warping mechanism was, as a matter of 
fact, one of the salient features of the Wright biplane. 
The system is considered to be the most efficacious 
method of combating the effect of wind-gusts when 
an aeroplane is in flight. 

In operation, this wing-warping device was simple. 
When the airman discovered that his machine was 
tilting over one side, owing to a sudden inequality 
in wind pressure, he quickly warped down the 
plane-ends on the side of the biplane that was depressed. 
The result was that there was increased 
wind-pressure under the plane-ends warped down, thus 
tending to force the machine back again upon an 
even keel. 

The pilot who distinguished himself greatly at 
Rheims, when flying the Wright biplane, was 
Lefevre; but this daring airman was, unfortunately, 
killed shortly afterwards at Juvisy, when testing a 
new machine. At Rheims he circled in the air, and 
effected sharp turns, in an altogether remarkable 
way, demonstrating an absolutely complete control 
over his machine. So impressed were the 
representatives of the French Government by the 
performance of the Wright biplane, that they ordered 
several machines for military use. This represented 
their first definite order for aeroplanes for war 
purposes. 

The chief drawback of the Wright biplane, in 
comparison with other machines flown at this time, 
was that it needed to make a start into the air from a 
launching rail, as has previously been mentioned. 

The advantage of this system of starting—in which 
a weight, dropped from a derrick, gave the 
aeroplane its initial impetus along the rail—was that 
the machine could be fitted with a lower-powered 
engine. 

But the disadvantages were obvious. Were an 
involuntary descent made at a point some distance 
away from the machine's rail, it had to be carted 
back to the starting-point, or a rail and derrick 
brought to the place where it lay. However, the 
French Government did not regard any aeroplanes 
at this time as representing serviceable war weapons. 
They took the wise view that they were purely 
instructional craft, upon which military airmen could 
gain experience, and so fit themselves for the use of 
the more perfect machines which were likely to be 
evolved as time went on. 

After describing the Wright biplane, we may now 
consider the Voisin machine. This aeroplane 
represented an improvement upon the type first piloted 
by Farman at Issy-les-Moulineaux. It had two 
main supporting planes, like those of the Wright 
biplane, fitted one above another. In front of the 
main-planes was a single horizontal elevating plane. 
At the rear of the biplane was a large cellular 
stabilising tail, made up of horizontal and vertical 
planes, and resembling a box-kite. In the centre of 
this cellular tail was the rudder, a single vertical 
plane. 

Instead of adopting a wing-warping device, for 
maintaining lateral stability, the Voisin brothers fitted 
vertical planes, or curtains as they were called, 
between their main-planes. These, when the machine 
was in flight, resisted any sideway roll and, in 
conjunction with movements of the rudder, gave 
the aeroplane a certain amount of automatic 
stability. 

The biplane rested upon a chassis made of hollow 
metal tubing. It had pneumatic-tyred bicycle wheels, 
mounted in connection with heavy springs, to resist 
the shock of landing after a flight. Small wheels 
bore the weight of the tail when the aeroplane was 
running along the ground. 

An engine of sixty horse-power, fitted upon the 
lower plane, drove a two-bladed metal propeller, 
placed behind the main-planes. The pilot, seated 
midway between the planes, operated a wheel like 
that of a motor-car. He pushed it away from him, 
or drew it back, to operate the elevating plane, and 
turned it sideways to actuate the rudder. 

This machine had the advantage over the Wright 
biplane that it was not dependent upon a starting 
rail. But, in general comparison with the Wright 
machine, it was heavy and sluggish. It required a 
long run before it would lift into the air, and its 
engine-power, although twice that of the Wright 
biplane, was only just sufficient to make it fly. In 
a side wind, owing to the influence which the gusts 
exerted upon the vertical panels which were fitted 
between the main-planes, it made an appreciable 
amount of "lee-way," which rendered steering 
difficult. 

Altogether, regarded from the point of view of 
experts to-day, it was a heavy, awkward machine. 
But it flew, and flew steadily. And anything that flew, 
in the year 1909, represented a triumph. Several 
famous airmen were piloting the Voisin biplane at 
the Rheims meeting, notably M. Louis Paulhan and 
\M. Rougier. 

From a military aspect, the Voisin biplane had 
many drawbacks. It was not at all portable; it 
could not rise quickly; it was slow-flying. But, 
with the very laudable intention of encouraging such 
ardent pioneers as the Voisin brothers, the French 
Government gave orders for certain military machines 
of this type. 

Now we may turn to what was undoubtedly the 
most successful biplane at the great Rheims 
carnival—that designed and flown by Mr Henry Farman. 
This famous airman had, it will be remembered, first 
learned to fly upon a Voisin biplane. After piloting 
this machine in 1908, he turned his attention, early 
in 1909, to the design of a biplane which should be 
lighter and more efficient. 

In this endeavour, he certainly succeeded. The 
biplane which he first flew in public at the Rheims 
meeting represented a distinct step forward in the 
development of this type of machine. In general 
construction, it was lighter than the Voisin machine, 
and it had other excellent features as well. Instead 
of the heavy, cellular tail, as fitted to the Voisin 
biplane, it had a lightly-constructed tail made up 
of two horizontal planes, with a vertical rudder 
fitted between them. In front of the main-planes, 
upon light wooden outriggers, was placed the 
horizontal elevating plane. 

One of the features of this machine, was its method 
of obtaining lateral stability. Farman recognised 
the disadvantages of the vertical planes, as used in 
the Voisin machine. So he fitted small flaps, or 
horizontal planes, at the rear extremities of his 
mainplanes. These were hinged to the main-planes, and 
were termed "ailerons." 

Their operation produced the same result as in 
the application of the wing-warping device of 
the Wright brothers. When the biplane tilted 
sideways in flight, the "ailerons" were drawn down, 
by means of controlling wires, on the side that was 
depressed. The air pressure, acting upon the 
surfaces of the "ailerons," forced the aeroplane back 
upon an even keel. When not in operation, the 
"ailerons" flew out straight in the wind, on a level 
with the main-planes. 

The control of the Farman biplane was effected by 
means of a hand and foot lever. The hand lever, 
when moved forward or backward, operated the 
elevating plane. When shifted from side to side, 
it actuated the "ailerons." The pilot's feet rested 
upon a pivoted bar, which he swung from side to 
side to move the rudder of the machine. 

.. figure:: images/Image3.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: BRITISH-BUILT SCOUTING MONOPLANE.

   BRITISH-BUILT SCOUTING MONOPLANE.
   This aircraft, an exceedingly fast, single-seated machine, represents the type of machine now favoured by French authorities for urgent, rapid, general reconnaissance. Its constructors are Messrs. Short Brothers.

Another constructional feature of this first Farman 
biplane was notable. This was the landing chassis. 
Appreciating the disadvantages of the Wright 
launching rail, and recognising that the Voisin 
chassis was heavy, Farman aimed at something 
lighter, and at the same time more efficient. 

Again he succeeded. He devised a chassis which 
was a combination of wooden skids and bicycle 
wheels. Below his biplane, upon wooden uprights, 
were fitted two long wooden skids. On either side of 
each skid, were two little pneumatic-tyred bicycle 
wheels, connected by a short axle. The wheels 
were held in position on the skid by stout rubber 
bands, which passed over the axle. 

Normally, the skids were raised off the ground by 
the wheels, upon which the biplane actually ran. 
But, in the case of a rather abrupt descent, the chassis 
was so designed that the wheels were forced up 
against their rubber bands, thus allowing the skids of 
the machine to come into contact with the ground. 
Then, when the force of the shock had been 
absorbed, the wheels came into play again. With 
this biplane, Farman achieved fine flights at Rheims. 

Apart from its constructional excellence, the 
biplane was fitted with a motor which was destined 
to have a remarkable influence upon the 
development of flying—and upon military aviation in 
particular. This was the seven-cylinder, revolving 
"Gnome." To-day, the application of this 
wonderful engine is practically universal. In August, 1909, 
it was regarded quite as a freak, and was seen for 
the first time upon Henry Farman's biplane. 

Up to the time when this motor was introduced, 
makers had, in designing aeroplane engines, followed 
very largely upon motor-car design, constructing 
motors with fixed cylinders, either upright, or in "V" 
shape, and with their parts lightened wherever 
possible. Some were water-cooled; others air-cooled. 
But with both systems, and particularly with the 
latter, the tendency—owing to the high speeds at 
which the engines had to turn—was to overheat, 
and either lose power, or stop altogether. 

The specially-lightened water-cooling systems 
which were devised gave a great deal of trouble; 
and, in the case of air-cooled engines, it was usually 
found almost impossible to prevent overheating, 
after the engines had been running for ten minutes 
or a quarter of an hour. 

In the case of the "Gnome," the designer struck 
out in a new line. Instead of making his cylinders 
fixed, and his crank-shaft revolving, as was the 
method with other engines, he set his seven cylinders 
revolving around the crank-shaft. Petrol and oil he 
fed to the cylinders by way of the stationary hollow 
crank-shaft. 

The internal complications of this engine, in the 
opinion of experts who first saw it, were such that 
it could not be expected to achieve reliability. 

But it did, nevertheless; and it ran so well, in fact, 
that, at the Rheims meeting, Henry Farman 
remained in the air, while using it, for more than three 
hours, and won the prize for the longest flight. 

The advantages of this remarkable engine proved 
to be many. In the first instance, its method of 
construction enabled it to be built remarkably light; and 
the fact that the seven cylinders revolved, generally 
at a speed of 1000 revolutions a minute, effectually 
disposed of cooling difficulties. In fact, the engine 
automatically cooled itself; and its fly-wheel effect, 
as it flew round, gave a smooth, even thrust to the 
propeller. 

From the very day of its first introduction, the 
"Gnome" motor gained overwhelming success. It 
represented a piece of mechanism made specially for 
the work in hand, and not a motor-car engine 
adapted to aerial purposes. This fact was the secret 
of its success. 

As rapidly as they could acquire them, other 
aeroplane makers fitted "Gnomes" to their machines. 
It proved all-conquering. Fixed-cylinder engines 
did not languish completely, however. Some of 
them were steadily improved, and performed reliable 
work. But the "Gnome" was then, and is now, 
regarded as *the* aeroplane engine. 

The Farman biplane, being so good a machine in 
itself, and being equipped, in addition, with so 
excellent a motor, naturally aroused keen military interest; 
and it was not long before the inventor received 
Government orders for his machine. At this time, 
before the monoplane had assumed the commanding 
position which it now holds, the Farman biplane 
certainly represented the premier aeroplane of the 
day. 

Two more machines, which were flown at the first 
carnival of flight at Rheims, merit careful 
description. These were the Blériot and Antoinette 
monoplanes. Blériot's machine, of the type upon which 
he crossed the Channel, was especially interesting. 

Its simplicity was, as has been stated, its great 
recommendation. Upon either side of a tubular 
body, built up of light woodwork, and partly covered 
in with fabric, were the two supporting planes, 
outstretched like the wings of a bird, and supported by 
wires, above and below. 

In the front of the body was the engine, which 
developed about twenty-five horse-power, and had 
three air-cooled cylinders. At the rear extremity of 
the body, which projected some little distance behind 
the lifting planes, was a small stabilising and 
weight-carrying plane, the end portions of which, on either 
side, were capable of being moved up and down. 
Behind this plane, fitted to the end of the body, was 
a small vertical rudder. 

The pilot sat in the body of the machine, a little 
behind the engine, and on a level with the rear 
extremities of his wings. His method of control 
was extremely simple. Rising up between his knees 
was a metal *cloche*, or lever. This he shifted 
forward or backward to make his machine rise or fall, 
the movement of the lever actuating the extremities 
of the rear stabilising plane. 

For maintaining the lateral stability of the 
monoplane, he moved the same lever from side to side. 
This action drew down, or warped, the rear portion 
of the supporting planes—effecting the same action, 
in fact, as produced in the case of the Wright biplane. 
When wishing to make a turn, the pilot pushed from 
side to side a bar upon which his feet rested. This 
moved the rudder at the rear of the body. 

Already, as can be seen, the control of an 
aeroplane in flight had become more or less standardised. 
One lever was usually employed for elevating and 
lowering the machine, and also for controlling lateral 
movements. Steering was effected, as a rule, by 
movements of the pilot's feet. 

Another machine, representing these first types, 
which it will be necessary to describe, is the 
Antoinette monoplane. This machine had, and has 
still, many original features. It was, to begin with, 
a very ambitiously-designed machine. It had very 
large and strongly-built wings. These were set at 
a dihedral angle, so as to increase the machine's 
stability. The engine, developing sixty horse-power, 
was fixed in the bow. The body of the machine, 
which was appreciably longer than that of the Blériot 
monoplane, ended in fixed horizontal and vertical 
planes, or "fins," rather resembling the feathering 
of an arrow. Hinged horizontal planes, at the 
extremity of the tail, provided means for elevating or 
lowering the machine. Vertical rudders were also 
fitted. 

The controlling mechanism was original. On 
either side of the pilot, as he sat well back in the body 
of the monoplane, was a wheel. These wheels he 
turned when he wished to rise or descend, or correct 
the lateral stability of the monoplane. 

By means of this wheel control, which locked the 
planes in any desired position, a very fine adjustment 
was possible. But the manipulation of the wheels, 
with which separate movements had to be made with 
each hand, was declared by many airmen to be 
difficult to learn. On the first of the Antoinette machines, 
it should be mentioned, "ailerons," or balancing flaps, 
were used to control lateral stability. Afterwards, 
however, wing-warping was adopted, and adhered to. 

Such were the first aeroplanes, as seen at Rheims 
in the year 1909. Other more experimental 
machines there were, too, which did not figure 
prominently at the time, but which were destined 
to play a prominent part in future work. In this 
regard should be mentioned the R.E.P. monoplane, 
designed and built by M. Esnault Pelterie, and the 
Breguet biplane, designed, built, and flown by M. 
Louis Breguet. 

IV. The human factor—Growing skill of airmen—Feats of 1910, as compared with those of 1909—Cross-country flying. 
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

What the aeroplanes which we have been 
describing could not do was to combat a wind. No 
flight was essayed, indeed, unless weather 
conditions were quite favourable. A notable exception 
must, however, be made in the favour of the 
Antoinette monoplane. This aircraft, owing to 
its weight and stability, and the skilful and daring 
handling of Mr Latham was, on several occasions 
in 1909, and notably at the Blackpool flying 
meeting, able to remain aloft in very high and gusty 
winds. 

Apart from the question of wind-flying, which was, 
of course, all-important, there were grave structural 
drawbacks in connection with many of these early 
machines. Some were too light; others too heavy. 
Save with those upon which the "Gnome" engine 
was fitted, there was almost constant engine trouble. 

Above all, however, the human factor entered into 
the question. Men were *learning* to fly. Apart 
from any consideration of the good or bad points of 
their machines, they were invading a new element. 
As one shrewd observer, at this time, remarked: 
"The men who fly now are like those who first 
ventured upon the sea in frail cockle-shells. They 
tremble at their own daring." 

More might have been accomplished in 1909, 
in fact, had men possessed greater confidence. 

Take, for example, the attempts which were made, 
at the Rheims meeting, to win the altitude prize. 
To the amazement of spectators, one pilot rose 
until he flew slightly more than 500 feet high. 
This feat was, in 1909, considered a marvellous one. 
In 1911, only two years later, a man rose to an 
altitude of nearly two-and-a-half miles! The heights 
attained in 1909 could, indeed, have been 
appreciably increased had men possessed the necessary 
confidence in themselves, and in their machines, to 
force them higher. 

But, in these pioneer days, a height of 150 feet or 
200 feet from the ground was considered quite an 
appreciable altitude. Nowadays, when carrying out 
a long cross-country flight, an airman will fly several 
thousand feet high. Thus it can be seen what 
definite progress has been made in this aspect of flying 
alone. 

High-flying has considerable importance. The 
airman who does not soar high, when going across 
country, meets the worst of whatever wind is blowing. 
It eddies from hill-tops, and around woods. The 
higher he flies, therefore, the steadier the wind blows, 
because it is unaffected by any inequalities of the 
ground. This is why the great cross-country flyers 
invariably ascend to a considerable altitude. 

In the year 1909, it may truly be said, men were 
really learning to fly. Their machines were crude, 
and they were invading a new element. Therefore 
they made comparatively short flights, and confined 
nearly all their operations to aerodromes, where 
there was always a smooth place of descent below 
them, should the failure of their engines compel a 
hasty landing. 

But, in 1910, a new and more daring spirit 
developed. With growing confidence, airmen soared 
higher and higher. Breezes no longer made them 
hasten to descend; and, with this new spirit of 
adventure, came the desire for cross-country flying, 
instead of monotonous circling round the aerodrome. 

With the commencement of long flights across 
country from point to point, came the first practical 
opportunity for applying the aeroplane to military 
reconnoitring work. The first cross-country flights 
marked, indeed, a very definite stage in the 
development of the aeroplane; and it was in 1910 that the 
possibilities of the flying machine, in this regard, 
were demonstrated, on a convincing scale, by 
such aerial contests as the flight from London to 
Manchester, and the Circuit de L'Est in France—the 
first taking place early in the flying season of 1910, 
and the latter towards its end. 

Two machines had, by this time, emerged as 
representing the best of their type. One was 
the Farman biplane, with the invincible "Gnome" 
motor; the other was the Blériot monoplane, now 
also equipped with the "Gnome." So far as 
distinction can be made, the Farman machine stood 
for ease of manipulation and general 
"air-worthiness"; while the Blériot represented the 
development of a small, portable, high-speed machine. 

It was on the Farman biplane that M. Louis 
Paulhan flew, with one halt, the 183-miles aerial 
journey from London to Manchester; and Mr 
Grahame-White (one of the joint authors of this 
book), who also piloted a Farman, had the 
distinction of competing against him in what is now 
regarded as an historic contest. 

In the Circuit de L'Est in France, Leblanc, the 
winner, flew some 400 miles on his Blériot 
monoplane, passing over all sorts of country, and finding 
his way accurately from point to point by means of 
his map and a special compass. He made frequent 
landings, without damaging his machine, and 
demonstrated its reliability in a most convincing 
way. 

One question naturally arises, in any consideration 
of such flights as these, seeing that they were so 
greatly superior to anything that had been done in 
\1909. Had the aeroplanes which these pilots used 
been improved to any remarkable extent? In reply, 
it is certainly accurate to say that they had not. 
The "Gnome" engines with which they were fitted 
had, it is true, been strengthened in small ways, 
and perfected in the manufacture of certain delicate 
parts, the result being an even greater reliability in 
running than had first been attained. 

As regards the aeroplanes, they were, in essentials, 
the same which had been flown in 1909. Their 
controlling mechanism was, for instance, unaltered. 
Their method of construction was practically the 
same, although experience had taught manufacturers 
the need of strengthening certain parts. Landing 
devices had been slightly improved, from the point 
of view of everyday wear. 

Although aeroplanes and engines had both been 
improved a little, neither had been altered sufficiently 
to account for such a vast stride forward as was made 
in 1910. It was not to the machines, indeed, so 
much as to the men, that this striking progress 
was due. 

Practice had begun to make perfect. Pilots now 
felt more comfortable when they were in the air. 
They had growing confidence in their aeroplanes. 
They had learned how to maintain stability when 
assailed by wind-gusts. Thus, they were ready to 
attempt far more ambitious flights. 

SECOND SECTION FIRST EXPERIMENTS WITH AEROPLANES IN THE FRENCH AUTUMN MANOEUVRES, 1910.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

\I. The historic Picardy tests—First official report upon movements of troops, as gleaned by aeroplane.
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

After these introductory notes, intentionally brief, 
we are led to a consideration of the first practical 
tests to which aeroplanes were put, so far as their 
military use is concerned. 

During the summer of 1910, the French authorities 
were instructing officers in the handling of machines. 
They had purchased several Voisin, Wright, and 
Farman biplanes, and possessed also a few 
monoplanes, including Blériots and Antoinettes. 

For the autumn army manœuvres of 1910, which 
were due to take place in Picardy, it was decided to 
make as complete a test as possible of the value of 
the aeroplane as a scout in time of war. Ten or 
fifteen machines were requisitioned for the 
experiments, some being stationed with each of the 
manoeuvring forces. 

To augment the military pilots, several civilian 
airmen readily gave their services, notably Mr 
Hubert Latham with his Antoinette, and M. Louis 
Paulhan, flying a Farman. 

Although this was the first time aeroplanes had 
been used in mimic warfare, and although the airmen 
themselves, and the military authorities, were 
naturally unacquainted with the best methods of utilising 
the new "arm," astonishing results were 
nevertheless obtained. 

Two French officers. Lieutenant Sido and 
Adjutant Menard, were highly successful in their work. 
This was due to the fact they had gone through a 
careful course of training and were, in consequence, 
familiar with the task of compiling precise and 
informing reports of all that they saw when upon a 
reconnoitring flight. 

Lieutenant Sido acted as observer upon the 
Farman biplane which they were using, and Adjutant 
Menard undertook the work of pilot. The former 
carried maps with him, and made frequent notes as 
the machine flew from point to point. 

The value of the work these two officers were able 
to perform, is best indicated by setting forth the actual 
result of two of their reconnoitring flights. On the 
first occasion, acting under definite instructions, they 
left a place named Poix at 6 a.m., and flew over a 
sixty-kilometre course, being an hour and five minutes 
in the air, before returning to their starting-point. 

This is the form in which they presented their 
report to Headquarters:—

\6.5 A.M.—
    At Thieuloy, three squadrons of 
    *chasseurs-a-cheval*, hidden behind the 
    southern edge of the village on the 
    road from Thieuloy to St Maur. 

\6.30 A.M.—
    At Feuquieres, a brigade of 
    infantry on the march eastward on the 
    road from Feuquieres to Brombos. 
    Head of main body just leaving 
    Feuquieres. Six batteries of artillery 
    parked south of Feuquieres. 

\6.32 A.M.—
    At point 1800 metres north of 
    Feuquieres, two companies on outpost, 
    one facing north and the other 
    northeast, astride the Feuquieres-Sarcus 
    road. One company has dug rifle-pits 
    to the west, and the other company 
    section trenches to the east of the road. 
    A Blériot monoplane has just landed 
    behind the company west of the road. 
    We followed its flight for three 
    minutes. 

\6.40 A.M.—
    Agneres—A company in column 
    of route marching from Agneres 
    towards Mereaucourt along the Saint 
    Martin-de-Ponsis ravine. 

The completeness and detail of this statement 
certainly surprised the officers who received it. No 
one, save a well-trained military observer, could 
have presented such a report. Its value was 
self-evident. It revealed, indeed, in a manner that 
was undeniable, the extremely useful work which 
could be done, in time of war, by a well-handled 
scouting aeroplane. 

II. Second conclusive test—Detecting an army in retreat—France's determination to possess an air-fleet. 
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

On another early-morning flight, during these 
same Picardy manœuvres, Lieutenant Sido and 
Adjutant Menard made a second important aerial 
reconnaissance, surveying a specified tract of country 
occupied by the "enemy." 

This was how they presented their report:—

\5.56 A.M.—
    At Halloy, a cyclist company. 

\5.59 A.M.—
    Thieuloy—Sixteen squadrons of 
    cavalry and six batteries at the 
    southwest entrance to the village. 

\6.5 A.M.—
    South-west of Rothois—At the 
    north point of Malmifet wood, a 
    company and two batteries of artillery 
    on the march towards 
    Marseille-le-Petit. 

\6.7 A.M.—
    Haute-Epine—Northern entrance 
    to the village, one company of 
    infantry to the right and one to the left 
    of the road. One company at point 
    \188. One company in the village of 
    Haute-Epine. 

\6.9 A.M.—
    At the cross-road to Lihus, a 
    squadron of dragoons concealed 
    behind the edge of the wood. 

\6.14 A.M.—
    On the road Cievecoeur-Marseille 
    south of Lihus, a squadron on the 
    march towards Marseille-le-Petit, and 
    a troop in the village of Lihus. 

\6.16 A.M.—
    On the Lihus-Potangy road, a 
    squadron and two machine-guns 
    marching towards Marseille-le-Petit. 

\6.19 A.M.—
    South-west entrance to 
    Cieve-coeur, three regiments of cavalry, 
    including cuirassiers, and six batteries 
    of artillery, in assembly formation. 

"The value of these two reports," declared one of 
the chief French military experts, "cannot be 
overestimated. Each one exposed the dispositions of 
the enemy, and the information was obtained in a 
remarkably short space of time." 

As regards the second report of the two 
air-scouts, it provided one remarkable instance of the 
practical value of the aeroplane in time of war. Upon 
the night before the airmen carried out their 
reconnaissance, the troops they were observing had been 
heavily attacked, and the Commander-in-Chief for 
whom they were acting was particularly anxious to 
know whether his enemy intended to hold its ground, 
or was about to fall back. 

The aerial report, when received, threw a clear 
light upon this point. Mainly cavalry and 
rear-guards had been detected during the flight. It was 
obvious, therefore, that the enemy was in retreat. 
Such results as these convinced the military experts 
who were studying the manœuvres that the future of 
the aeroplane, at any rate from the reconnoitring 
point of view, was practically assured. 

For the splendid work which he had accomplished, 
Lieutenant Sido received promotion, and his pilot, 
Adjutant Menard, was presented with the Cross of 
the Legion of Honour. Lieutenant Sido, explaining 
afterwards how he succeeded in setting out such 
terse and informing reports, made several 
interesting observations regarding the work of a military 
observer. 

At first, he said, the man who attempted aerial 
scouting could not distinguish things below him with 
sufficient clearness. He himself had found that 
quite a number of flights were necessary before he 
could make anything like satisfactory or accurate 
observations. But practice, he added, was 
everything. Granted plenty of this, and sharp eyesight, 
he considered that an aerial observer should make 
few mistakes in reporting what he saw when in an 
aeroplane. 

A military correspondent of *The Times*, who went 
through these manœuvres in Picardy, and thus had 
ample opportunity of studying the work of the 
air-scouts, declared afterwards: "In my belief the 
aeroplane, given a trained pilot, and a skilled observer, 
must revolutionise the whole service of 
reconnaissance." No statement could be more definite. 

This, as has been said, was the first practical 
revelation of what an air-scout might accomplish in 
time of war. France was not slow to profit by the 
lesson. Without delay, she began to create an efficient 
aeroplane fleet. If feats such as those recorded in the 
Picardy manœuvres could be carried out with a few 
aeroplanes, what could not be achieved with 
highly-organised squadrons of machines? This, in effect, 
was the question which France asked herself. 

.. figure:: images/Image4.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: READY FOR A SCOUTING FLIGHT.

   READY FOR A SCOUTING FLIGHT.
   Here a latest-type reconnoitring monoplane, with its observer in the front seat and the pilot behind him, is seen just about to start upon an aerial voyage. The machine is a British-built Bristol, such as will be used in the forthcoming military trials.

THIRD SECTION THE GROWING AIR-FLEETS OF FOREIGN NATIONS 
-------------------------------------------------------

\I. Activity in France—Two hundred machines at the end of 1911; a thousand promised by the year 1914. 
`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Practically all leading nations, with the exception 
of Great Britain, are now equipping themselves, on 
an adequate scale, with the war aeroplane. 

At the time of the autumn manœuvres in 1910, 
France possessed about a dozen aeroplanes. But 
she soon increased this number, being full of 
enthusiasm, and determined upon a strong aerial 
policy. 

Thus, an official report, which was presented at 
the end of 1910, showed that the French authorities 
had increased their fleet of machines, in two or three 
months, from a dozen to thirty-two. The list of the 
French war aeroplanes at this time was, it is 
interesting to note, made up as follows:—

============================ =====
Wright biplanes              5
Blériot monoplanes           4 
\H. Farman biplanes          11
\M. Farman biplanes          4
Breguet biplanes             2
Sommer biplanes              4
Antoinette monoplanes        2
============================ =====

To pilot these thirty-two aeroplanes, there were, 
at this time, thirty-four fully-qualified military 
airmen. 

The activity which prevailed, at the end of 1910, 
among the aeroplane manufacturers in France, is 
revealed in the report of one well-known maker, Mr 
Henry Farman. 

He stated, on 6th December, 1910, that he had 
received orders for military machines as follows:—

====================== ================
French Government      35 aeroplanes 
Russian  "             20 "
Spanish  "             3  "
Italian  "             2  "
Belgian  "             1  "
Japanese "             1  "
British  "             1  "
====================== ================

The commanding position of France, in this one 
list, as compared with the single order of Great 
Britain, forms an illustration of the attitude of the 
two countries, at this time, towards military 
airmanship. 

At M. Blériot's flying school at Pau, early in 
February, 1911, the French Government had more 
than twenty officers learning to become airmen. No 
more striking indication could be found of the 
determination of this country to be in the forefront in 
aviation. 

Early in the summer of 1911, the French War 
Minister authorised the purchase of close upon a 
hundred and fifty aeroplanes. Of these machines 
nearly a hundred were, at this time, actually in the 
possession of the military authorities. Among the 
orders placed with French manufacturers was one 
for eighty monoplanes. This was secured by M. 
Louis Blériot. Two types of machine were 
resented in this large commission, one being a 
two-seated machine, and the other a single-seated craft, 
capable of high speed. 

To Mr Henry Farman, whose biplane had 
performed so meritoriously in the 1910 Picardy 
manœuvres, an order was placed for forty war 
machines; and the French Government's large order 
was made up of a number of other machines. 

With her energetic method of sending officers in 
squads to learn flying at the various schools, it was 
not long before France found herself in 
possession of a corps of at least a hundred fully-qualified 
airmen. These, as a matter of fact, she possessed 
quite early in the summer of 1911. 

The business-like way in which she set herself the 
task of becoming the premier nation in the 
development of flying was especially notable at this time. 
Military commissions were appointed to visit the 
various aerodromes throughout France, and inspect 
all aeroplanes built. In the case where a machine 
had been purchased, one of these military 
commissions came to the flying ground on a specified 
date, and passed the aircraft through a series of 
tests, These experiments had to be carried out by 
the constructor of the aeroplane before the 
Government would take delivery of his machine. 

One instance of this excellent policy is sufficient. 
In April, 1911, a military commission of several 
officers made a journey to the Brayelle aerodrome. 
Here, awaiting their inspection, were a couple of 
Breguet biplanes which the French authorities had 
decided to buy. 

After the officers had examined the machines, the 
professional pilots of the flying school carried out 
a series of manœuvres. The officers noted, for 
example, how long it took a machine to ascend 
to an altitude of 1000 feet. A specified load had to 
be lifted by each aeroplane. It was also necessary 
that it should attain a stipulated speed. When these 
conditions were fulfilled, and not before, the officers 
formally took over the aeroplanes on behalf of their 
Government. 

With what determination this task of increasing the 
aerial armament of France was pressed forward may 
be gauged by the work of one of these military 
commissions, which visited the Pau aerodrome during the 
summer of 1911. No fewer than eight two-seated 
war monoplanes were waiting for their inspection; 
and all eight machines were tested and passed in 
the course of a day's flying. 

The spirit which animated France, in regard to 
this question of military aviation, is evidenced by 
the words of M. Clementel, when placing an official 
report before the French Chamber. He declared: 
"The aeroplane has proved that it is a marvellous 
instrument of war—a new arm in our military 
organisation. We now possess an incontestable 
superiority in aviation, and this we hope to continue 
for a long period. We must maintain this advance. 
The sacrifices imposed on us in this matter are as 
useful as they are necessary." 

This, indeed, supplies the keynote to the 
enthusiasm of the French for war aeroplanes. By the end 
of the year 1911 the War Minister possessed a fleet 
of more than 200 war aeroplanes and a corps of officers 
fully trained to pilot them, and act as observers. 

After French tests of military aeroplanes in 
October, 1911—which will be described in the next 
section—there was a generous distribution of orders 
for machines. 

Early in 1912, the French military authorities had 
234 war aeroplanes at their disposal; and the 
financial grant for the year placed £920,000 for the 
purposes of military flying. In addition, there was a 
scheme on foot to augment the number of war 
machines. By the aid of public subscription this, 
quite soon, approached a sum of £100,000. 

The latest plan of the French Government is to 
form a large regiment of military airmen, and in this 
connection more than 300 new aeroplanes have been 
ordered for delivery before the end of 1912. Sheds, 
to accommodate machines, are springing up all over 
the country. Quite early in 1912, nearly 300 officers 
had obtained pilot's certificates from the French 
Aero Club. 

So far as can be ascertained, the military 
aeroplanes in France will number appreciably more than 
400 at the end of this year; and it must be 
remembered that, in time of war, this country could call 
upon nearly a thousand privately-owned machines. 

The policy in France may be summarised in the 
statement that the Government aim to create an 
air-fleet of at least 1000 machines by the end of the 
year 1914. In 1917, it is anticipated, the French 
air-fleet will approach, in numbers, several thousand 
machines. Eventualities, of course, govern such 
a programme. It may, for example—should any 
remarkable development of aviation take place—be 
appreciably augmented. 

What the limit of utility of an air-fleet may be, 
only the practical work of war will show. For 
reconnoitring, it is clear that very large squadrons of 
machines, divided amongst the various sections of an 
army, will be employed. 

Then there is the question of using aeroplanes for 
dispatch-carrying, and for directing artillery fire, to 
say nothing of their probable employment for 
destructive work, and perhaps in the transport of troops. 

Another crucial point must also be borne in mind, 
to which detailed reference will be made later. If, 
as is practically certain, a conflict takes place between 
the aerial forces of two armies, it is likely to be the 
larger of two fleets of machines—other things being 
equal—which will emerge victorious. 

Therefore, it is impossible at present to lay down 
any rule as to limiting the number of war 
aeroplanes. No country can stay its hand. The wise 
policy, surely, is to be well armed in view of 
eventualities. If a great war comes—then, and 
only then, can the strength of an air-fleet be tested 
adequately. 

II. The great French tests of military aeroplanes—Striking results obtained—Era of fast, "air-worthy," weight-carrying machines.
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Any account of the splendid progress in military 
flying, which has been made in France, would not 
be complete without a reference to the trials of war 
aeroplanes which were carried out at Rheims in 
October, 1911. 

In prizes, and prospective orders for machines, 
more than £50,000 had been set aside; and an 
astonishingly large number of French 
makers—bearing striking testimony to the progress of aviation 
in that country—brought their machines together. 
Despite bad weather, a series of tests which were 
highly instructive and important were carried out. 

One of the French aims, in the organisation of 
these contests, was to encourage the construction of a 
speedy, "air-worthy" machine, capable of carrying 
a pilot and passenger, and flying long distances when 
fully loaded. 

The tests were most interesting, as showing the 
high state of efficiency to which aeroplanes had 
attained. Quite a number of machines, for example, 
were able to effect a regular series of non-stop flights 
of 300 kilometres (187.5 miles), when carrying a 
pilot and observer. 

A surprising number, also, were able to ascend to 
a height of 1640 feet in fifteen minutes—a 
remarkable indication of the reserve of power they 
possessed. 

One difficult feat was set the competing machines. 
This was that they should rise, when fully loaded, 
from a ploughed field. Hitherto, of course, only 
smooth ground had been considered suitable for 
the ascent of a machine. An appreciable number 
passed even this test successfully. Their ability to 
do so was due to the fitting of exceptionally-strong 
landing devices of the wheel and skid type, and to 
ample engine-power. 

In all, seven aeroplanes emerged triumphantly 
from all the trials imposed. The winning machine, 
which owed its final triumph to its high speed, 
was the Nieuport monoplane. Even when heavily 
laden with pilot, passenger, and fuel, it flew across 
country at the rate of more than seventy miles an 
hour. 

One of the most impressive features of the trials 
was the reliability shown by the competing machines. 
They made voyage after voyage with the regularity 
of express trains. The striking aspect of the tests, 
indeed, was the practical demonstration of the fact 
that not one French builder, but dozens, could make 
a thoroughly-efficient war aeroplane. 

It was shown conclusively, also, that it is no 
longer necessary to wait for calm weather before 
embarking upon aeroplane flights. In astonishingly
high winds—blowing, in some cases, at a velocity of 
approximately forty miles an hour—the large 
military machines went out and, ascending 1000 or 1500 
feet, battled triumphantly against vicious gusts. 

A striking point in connection with the 
competition was the big horse-power of the engines 
employed. There was a vivid contrast, indeed, 
between the motors now used and the little 
three-cylindered, twenty-five horse-power engine with 
which Blériot crossed the Channel in 1909. 

Many of the machines taking part in the contest 
were fitted with fourteen-cylinder hundred 
horsepower "Gnome" motors; and some employed even 
higher power than this, being equipped with engines 
developing a hundred and forty horse-power. Such 
big power was, of course, necessary in view of the 
loads which were carried, and the arduous nature 
of some of the tests. 

To indicate the weights raised, it may be 
mentioned that the Breguet biplane, which was driven by 
a hundred and forty horse-power "Gnome," weighed, 
with pilot, two passengers, and fuel aboard, 2420 lb. 

Representatives from all the great countries in the 
world, including Great Britain, visited Rheims to 
witness these military tests, and the French 
manufacturers who produced successful machines were 
quickly supplied with sufficient orders to keep their 
factories busy for a long time to come. 

The value of the flying work accomplished in these 
trials, and the obvious practicability of military 
machines, stimulated interest not only in France, but 
in Russia, Germany, and other countries. It was, 
undoubtedly, the means of determining our War 
Office to make a move. In view of what was 
achieved at Rheims, in fact, there no longer remained 
any possible excuse for refraining from a 
constructive policy in military aviation. 

III. Germany's aerial policy—Secret energies in creating a fleet of war aeroplanes—Rivalry with France. 
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Leaving France for the moment, we may now turn 
to a consideration of Germany's advance in the 
matter of military flying. Here, first of all, we shall 
need to consider an interesting question. It 
concerns the relative merits of the dirigible balloon and 
the aeroplane. Although, in this book, we are 
concerned exclusively with the heavier-than-air machine, 
it is certainly necessary to mention the dirigible at 
this point, in explanation of the fact that Germany 
almost abandoned her airship policy, after the French 
manœuvres in the autumn of 1910, in favour of the 
aeroplane. 

She was not led to take this step, after spending 
many thousands of pounds upon dirigibles, 
without mature consideration. Among her advisers in 
matters of aviation, Germany possessed many 
particularly-staunch and even obstinate supporters of the 
airship. These refused at first to admit the 
enormous strides which the aeroplane was making. But 
soon it was impossible to turn a blind eye towards 
them; and so came a reversal of German policy. 

The facts of the case could not, indeed, be 
controverted. While the aeroplane leaped to the front 
during 1910, the airship made practically no forward 
strides at all. In comparison with the aeroplane, it 
was ruinously costly. It required large crews of 
men to handle it. It needed huge garages dotted 
about the country at all strategic points. It was 
slow-flying, as compared with the aeroplane. It 
offered a far easier target to artillery fire from below. 
The advantages which were claimed for it, over the 
aeroplane, were that it could remain in the air longer, 
and that observations could be carried out from it 
in a more leisurely fashion than from the 
heavier-than-air machine. 

But the German War Office is notoriously shrewd 
in all matters appertaining to modern warfare. When 
it was seen that a mistaken policy was being 
pursued in spending large sums upon unwieldy 
dirigibles, a new plan was quickly evolved—and that was 
to overtake France in the creation of a fleet of war 
aeroplanes. 

It was in November, 1910, that the German 
military authorities began to purchase machines. They 
then placed orders for five or six aeroplanes, mostly 
biplanes. This was quickly followed, a month later, 
by an order for nearly twenty Etrich 
monoplanes—strongly-built, extremely-efficient machines, 
constructed in Austria. 

Military experts in Germany had, by this time, 
arrived at an approximate estimate of what should 
be the salient features of an aeroplane for war 
purposes. They stated that machines should be of as 
simple a construction as possible, and very strong. 
They declared high speed to be an essential, and 
they demanded, also, that machines should be able 
to carry appreciable weights. 

It was characteristic of Germany that she should 
make steady progress, once a decision had been 
arrived at to develop the aeroplane. Thus, in 
February, 1911, it became known that seven military 
airmen had, in one week, obtained their certificates 
of proficiency at the Johannisthal and Bork 
aerodromes. Three of these pilots were using Wright 
biplanes. It was just about this time, too, that 
Germany placed an order in France for several Farman 
biplanes. 

By the spring of 1911, the German War Office had 
assembled a fleet of close upon fifty aeroplanes. 
Nearly half of them were Etrich monoplanes, of 
the type previously mentioned. Metal now entered 
very largely into the framework of these machines. 
They were heavily-engined, and fast in flight, and 
could easily raise a reconnoitring officer, in addition 
to the pilot, and an engineer to attend to the motor 
as well. 

In March, 1911, so as to hasten forward the work 
of training officers to fly, the German Minister of 
War sent fifty or sixty unmarried lieutenants to the 
Doebritz military aviation camp. Here, while they 
were learning to fly, these officers received a special 
allowance. The military authorities also came to 
the conclusion, at this time, that it would be wise to 
arrange for an aviation section at all the garrisons 
in Germany which had suitable parade-grounds 
attached to them. 

It was decided in May, 1911, to spend large sums 
of money upon the purchase of new types of military 
aeroplanes; and the officers who had already learned 
to fly were encouraged to design machines, 
embodying ideas formed during their period of tuition. At 
the same time, in order to encourage a general study 
of flying in Germany, the War Office made up its 
mind to contribute special prizes to the various 
cross-country contests then in process of 
arrangement. 

Going ahead with such determination, it was not 
surprising to find that, in August, 1911, Germany 
had established a fleet of nearly eighty aeroplanes; 
and the total of her officer-airmen, a month later, 
approached the same figure. 

The Kaiser himself had, by this time, become 
greatly interested in the development of 
heavier-than-air machines for war purposes, and he thoroughly 
approved of the forward policy which had been 
initiated. At the end of the summer of 1911 
Germany had quite a hundred aeroplanes either on hand, 
or in order; and her list of army airmen had grown 
appreciably. 

Recently, however, development in Germany, 
so far as aeroplanes are concerned, has been kept 
more or less secret. Information regarding tests 
which have been carried out has been carefully 
withheld. The results of several carefully-organised 
reconnoitring flights have not, for instance, been 
allowed to leak out. 

But this much is known. During 191 2, Germany 
will spend a sum of £640,000 upon the development 
of her aeroplane service. The Kaiser himself now 
offers a prize of £2500 for the best aeroplane motor 
of German construction. 

It seems fairly clear, indeed, that Germany has 
now set herself the task of keeping pace with France 
in the development of military airmanship. A great 
point is made by the German War Office of 
encouraging the production of entirely German-built 
aeroplanes, and much experimental work is now being 
conducted. 

This much is certain: there is the greatest activity 
in Germany in regard to military aeroplaning. No 
stone is being left unturned, indeed, to produce a 
thoroughly-efficient military machine; and the 
training of army airmen is steadily pursued. 

Many estimates have recently been made as to 
the strength of the German air-fleet. One credits 
Germany with 300 war aeroplanes; another with 
nearly 200. The most reliable figure would appear 
to be a little in excess of 100 machines. 

Dirigible balloon work, also, still continues. It 
has been reported, in fact, that German military 
experts have overcome some of the difficulties of the 
rigid type, and that heights of over 6000 feet are now 
attained with them. It was, indeed, only in January 
that France was warned, by a well-known advocate of 
dirigible balloons, to beware of the secret 
development of lighter-than-air craft in Germany. The 
destructive possibilities of a fleet of hostile dirigibles, 
sailing across the German frontier into France, and 
raining down missiles, were pictured; but, in this 
regard, it is certainly pertinent to inquire what the 
French fleet of aeroplanes would be doing while such 
an attack was in progress. 

IV. Progress in Russia, America, and other countries-England's position in the autumn of 1911.
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The country which next merits attention, as a 
keen, observant student of the value of the aeroplane 
for war purposes, is Russia. The Russian military 
authorities recognised the importance of this new 
weapon early in 1911, and the steps taken to deal 
with the question were eminently practical. The 
Duma Committee of National Defence approved 
an expenditure of nearly £1,000,000 upon military 
aviation. 

Since then, Russia has been acquiring aeroplanes, 
and training airmen, at a great rate. A sum of 
£25,000 a year, for three years, was voted 
exclusively for the building of experimental machines of 
a military type, in order that aircraft on original lines 
might be evolved. It was also decided to spend 
£2500 a year in employing skilled instructors. 
Military air-stations were, at the same time, 
established at Keiff, Odessa, Sebastopol, and Tiflis. 

Having thus made the first move towards creating 
an efficient air-corps, the Russian Government sent 
a commission of military officers on a tour of the 
French flying grounds, in order that they might see 
the best work being produced by the aeroplane 
manufacturers. 

While in France, this commission purchased a 
number of machines of various types. They visited 
England, also, and after inspecting the biplanes built 
by the British and Colonial Aeroplane Company 
at Bristol, ordered several military-type machines of 
this make. 

By May, 1911, Russia had acquired forty machines, 
and was using them to teach a large number of 
officers to fly. A determination has been expressed 
to have a fleet of several hundred aeroplanes by the 
forthcoming flying season. 

The activities of other nations also present an 
interesting study. Take America, for example. In 
this country, despite the wonderful example set by 
the Wright brothers, military flying languished until 
towards the end of 1910. Then came a somewhat 
tardy vote for the purchase of a few machines, and 
general development. 

In the beginning of 1911, Mr Dickinson, the 
United States War Secretary, returned from a visit 
to France, where he had seen what the French war 
aeroplanes were accomplishing, and had enjoyed a 
flight upon a military machine at Chalons. He 
promptly recommended a more generous money 
grant, and the result has been that machines have 
been bought, while officers are now learning to fly. 

In a recent speech, Brigadier-General James 
Allen, of the American Signal Corps—in connection 
with which the Air Corps is operated—said: "It is 
the ultimate intention, I believe, to teach aviation 
to several thousand Army men." 

For the year ending June, 1912, a sum of 125,000 
dollars was voted for the aeronautical work of the 
American Army. 

Austrian military experts have been very energetic 
in their study of flying. In November, 1910, 
war aeroplanes were ordered, and it was then 
specified that each machine must fly for two hours 
without descending, at the rate of forty-four miles 
an hour. It was also stipulated that the aeroplanes 
should be dismantled in an hour, and rebuilt in two 
hours. During 1911, Austria operated two military 
air-stations, and now possesses an excellent fleet of 
war aeroplanes. 

Italian interest in military aviation has been 
keen from the outset. In the summer of 1911, at 
the Centocelle military aerodrome, a number of 
officers were training, and a variety of machines were 
in use. Since then, also, definite progress has been 
made, and Italy quickly reaped the reward of her 
aeronautical labours in the war with Turkey. A 
reference to the work of aeroplanes in Tripoli will, 
however, be found in a later section. 

In March, 1911, Japan placed orders in France 
for nearly twenty war aeroplanes. This was in 
addition to a previous purchase, in Berlin, of a number 
of Wright biplanes. Japanese officers have been 
learning to fly in large numbers lately, both in 
France and Germany. 

Spain must not be forgotten. She has bought 
a number of machines in France, and is now training 
a corps of officer-airmen. 

.. figure:: images/Image5.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: TWO-SEATED, BRITISH-BUILT WAR MACHINE.

   TWO-SEATED, BRITISH-BUILT WAR MACHINE.
   The Blackburn military-type monoplane, with accomodation for pilot and observer, has already made many successful flights; and it is expected to perform meritoriously in the War Office trials. In some respects it resembles the graceful Antoinette.

And what about England? It is sufficient to say, 
for purposes of direct comparison in this section, that 
for the autumn manœuvres of 1911—which were 
abandoned owing to the drought—the War Office 
had only half a dozen qualified army aeroplanists, 
in comparison with the well-trained squadrons of 
France and Germany. As regards machines, we 
possessed at this time about a dozen—most of them 
obsolete—being hopelessly out-matched by France, 
Germany, and Russia. 

FOURTH SECTION IMPORTANCE OF ORGANISATION IN THE USE OF WAR AEROPLANES 
----------------------------------------------------------------------

\I. French plans for the concerted use of squadrons of machines in time of war. 
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After describing the air-fleets with which far-seeing 
nations are now arming themselves, another point 
arises—and a point which is of supreme importance. 
This concerns the organisation of the military air 
service. 

In organisation, it is clear, will lie the secret of 
success when aeroplanes are used in time of actual 
war. 

France has certainly more right to speak on this 
subject than any other country, because she *knows*. 
Her experience has, indeed, been unique. She has 
bought machines, trained men, and has already 
dissected the results obtained from many 
experiments. And her greatest authorities affirm, 
definitely, that it is not sufficient to have a large number 
of machines, or a big corps of men. What any 
nation must possess, they say, in order to make its 
air-fleet really efficient, is faultless organisation. 

Aeroplanes, either for scouting or destructive work, 
cannot be operated in haphazard style. 
Combination is essential. Every requisite of the air service 
must be in its place, and ready to hand; and 
everyone must know his work, and do it with precision, 
from the aeroplane pilot to the humble mechanic. 

It is upon this question of organisation that the 
French authorities have been concentrating 
themselves. They see its vital importance, and are 
determined to formulate definite, practical schemes 
for the employment of large squadrons of machines. 
In this work, M. Milleraud, the French Minister of 
War, has been most active. 

It is held that a fleet of aeroplanes should be 
divided up into separate aviation squadrons, each 
complete in itself, and that these depots should be 
attached to the various Army Corps. 

Thus each squadron would act with its own Army 
Corps, performing its scouting and other work, and 
moving from place to place with the Corps. 

In command of an aviation squadron, without 
doubt, should be an officer of great experience. 
Already, as a matter of fact, such men are being 
produced. They are officers who have gone through 
the whole routine of flying, and know every practical 
detail of the work, besides possessing a general 
knowledge of tactical operations. 

Such a Commander of Aeroplanes should be 
constantly in touch with the officer in charge of the 
whole Army Corps. When military operations reach 
a stage that demands a rapid aerial reconnaissance, 
this officer in charge of aeroplanes will be called into 
conference, and told exactly what is required. He, 
in his turn, will indicate how his airmen can go to 
work; and he will then transmit orders to the pilots 
and observers, and also summarise their reports, for 
the benefit of Headquarters, after a reconnaissance 
has been carried out. 

The value of such an officer, possessing complete 
practical experience, would be very great. The 
question might arise, for example, as to whether the 
wind was too high to allow a scouting expedition to 
be made. The Commanding Officer would, in such 
circumstances, promptly consult the Commander of 
Aeroplanes, who would come to an expert decision 
without any misunderstanding or delay. 

Operating with the Commander of Aeroplanes 
should be other officers, all experienced men, and 
each specialising in one branch of aerial work. 
There should be an officer immediately in charge 
of the airmen. To this officer would fall the task of 
seeing that each scout thoroughly understood the 
work that he had in hand, that he was adequately 
equipped, and that his reports were presented in 
proper form. 

Then should come an officer in command of the 
engineers. His would be important work. The 
engineers in charge of aeroplanes represent 
highly-skilled men, whose work is vital to the success of 
aerial operations. Several of them are usually 
detailed to each machine. 

When aeroplanes are on active service, 
replacements and repairs will need constantly to be made; 
and the officer in charge of engineers will be called 
upon to superintend this work, and to see that all 
machines in the corps are in first-class condition. 
An aeroplane, at any rate as at present constructed, 
is a machine that needs unremitting attention in a 
variety of small ways. The use of a fleet of machines 
in time of war will mean that a very highly-organised 
staff of mechanics, under the supervision of a 
thoroughly-competent officer, will be required. 

Then there may be a third officer, whose duty 
will be to take charge of all the baggage, supplies, 
and transport of the air service. His task will, it is 
clear, be no light one. There should be a number 
of motor repair-cars in connection with each 
aeroplane squadron, ready to move out, at a moment's 
notice, and succour an airman who may have come 
down through mechanical defects. These 
break-down gangs will form a very important adjunct to 
the work of the aeroplane in war-time. 

The question of transport is very important. As 
an army marches from point to point, so the 
aeroplanes attached to it will have to move also. Airmen 
will, in many cases no doubt, fly their machines from 
point to point; but there will probably be occasions 
when machines will need to be dismantled, and 
transported by road or rail. 

In such circumstances the transport officer will be 
a busy man. In his hands, also, will lie the work 
of bringing up the supplies of petrol and oil which 
the aeroplanes will need. 

The French organisation already strives to be as 
perfect as is possible, seeing that active service 
conditions are yet to be encountered. Motor waggons 
are provided for the transport of aeroplanes. Other, 
and slower waggons, bring up portable hangars. 
Then come heavier lorries carrying spare parts, and 
similar equipment. Bringing up the rear are motor 
waggons in the form of portable workshops. 

The mere detailing of any such scheme as that 
outlined above, affords an indication of the necessity 
for perfect organisation in the use of war aeroplanes. 

With machines improperly employed, with airmen 
carelessly instructed, and with repair-depots badly 
equipped, no nation can hope to make a success of 
its air service. 

The determination of France, in this regard, is 
beyond all praise. Aeroplanes are being allocated 
to frontier forts. Practical discussions are taking 
place, frequently, at the Ministry of War. It is 
intended to establish an annual overhaul of war 
aeroplanes, so that obsolete machines may be removed 
from the active list, and relegated to the flying 
schools. 

In all this, France is finding things out for herself. 
She has no precedent to guide her. This makes 
the work she has already accomplished all the more 
valuable. How far advanced the French air service 
is, and how admirably arranged is its scheme of 
operation, only the practical work of war will 
reveal. 

II. Value of air-stations—Selection of landing-grounds—Preparing air-maps. 
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A very important feature of the organisation of an 
air-corps, especially in times of peace, is the 
permanent air-station. Here one finds machines, men, 
and the whole equipment of military aviation work. 
Of such stations, France now possesses quite a 
number. 

An essential of such an air-station is a good 
manoeuvring ground for aeroplanes. Then comes 
the need to erect a number of sheds for the machines. 

Also necessary is a completely-equipped repair-shop, 
in which damages, generally brought about by 
experimenting with machines, may be repaired. At one or 
two of the chief French air-stations, the equipment is 
so complete that there are commodious shops for 
the building of aeroplanes, in addition to any repair 
work undertaken. 

Another and very important feature of a 
well-organised air-station is the school for military pupils, 
under the charge of an officer of experience. 

Another detail of aerial organisation, regarding 
which both France and Germany are concerning 
themselves, is the selection of a number of 
landing-places for aeroplanes, preferably in the vicinity of 
large towns. Military authorities in France are 
enlisting municipal aid in this matter. 

The idea is to fix upon an aerodrome, or suitable 
landing-place, outside all cities or towns of 
importance. Once chosen, the ground will be set aside 
for the arrival and departure of aircraft; and, in 
connection with it, there will be a small, permanent 
repair-shop. 

Apart from their use for military flying, and 
particularly in connection with long reconnoitring flights, 
such landing-places, scattered all over the country, 
should, it is contended, do a great deal towards 
popularising touring by air, seeing that an aerial 
voyager would have some definite alighting point in 
view, when flying from point to point. 

Besides such general aspects of organisation as 
have already been touched upon, France has foreseen 
the need for providing her air-corps with suitable 
maps to use when flying across country, and 
particularly when on reconnoitring work. The officers who 
flew in the autumn manœuvres of 1910 were able to 
report the need for such maps—a clear indication 
of the value of practical flying in revealing exactly 
what is required. 

The Geographical Department of the French Army 
went to work with characteristic promptitude. The 
result is that special air-maps are being prepared so 
as to cover, in sections, the whole of France. In 
connection with these maps, the plan is to eliminate all 
unnecessary detail. When flying fast and high, an 
airman sees only the bold outline of what lies below 
him; and so, when glancing quickly at a map, he 
seeks to find on it some prominent landmark which 
will tell him where he is. 

On French military maps the roads—which an 
airman always sees well—are coloured white. Woods 
are green; and railway lines, which always form an 
excellent aerial guide, are prominently marked. So 
are such landmarks as spires and towers. Good 
alighting grounds and air-stations are shown; and 
the presence of telegraph wires, a menace when 
making a descent, are also indicated. 

With the help of such maps as these, French 
military airmen are now making long cross-country 
flights almost daily, without fear of losing their way. 
It is now possible, also, to fit a reliable compass to 
aeroplanes. The result is that, with a special map 
and a good compass, an airman can fly with accuracy 
from point to point, even over strange country. 

FIFTH SECTION ENGLAND'S POSITION IN REGARDS TO MILITARY FLYING
--------------------------------------------------------------

\I. Lessons which were ignored—Work of the Parliamentary Aerial Defence Committee. 
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

So far as the position, at the present time, is 
concerned, England is far behind other great nations 
in the matter of aerial armament, and our deficiency 
is open to the greatest criticism. But it is, in all 
things, necessary to be fair. Therefore, it must be 
remembered that the War Office has pledged itself 
to a definite move. 

A scheme, to which further reference will be made, 
has been brought forward to obtain the services of 
a hundred army airmen. More aeroplanes have 
recently been bought; and a sum of £11,000 is 
to be spent upon a military competition in England, 
which will probably be held in July next. 

Thus, although our present position is perilously 
weak, we have the promise of a firmer, more 
reasonable policy. By the end of the forthcoming flying 
season, if the War Office maintains its new attitude, 
we should have laid the corner-stone, at least, of an 
efficient air-corps. 

Therefore, in the criticisms of Government policy 
which it is, of course, impossible to avoid, the fact 
must be remembered that at last something is to be 
done—nothing very ambitious, it is true, nothing that 
will put us on a level say with France, but, at any 
rate, something. A very unpretentious policy is 
better than no policy at all. 

In this section, we propose to deal with those 
circumstances, and representations, which have 
led to the dispelling of official apathy in 
England. 

Compared with the work being done in France 
and Germany, we have still practically no 
organisation; and yet such organisation as has been 
described will spell all the difference between 
success and failure, when aeroplanes are actually 
used in war. 

All that has been definitely established in England, 
so far, is the Air Battalion, which is not in a position 
to give all its time and attention to the development 
of the war aeroplane. Within its scheme of duties, 
in addition to aeroplaning, comes the manipulation 
or dirigible balloons, and also of ordinary balloons, 
and kites. 

It was in April, 1911, that the Air Battalion came 
into existence. One or two aeroplanes had, by this 
time, been purchased. A flying school was opened 
on Salisbury Plain; and there was much talk, 
in the House of Commons, as to the start which 
this country had begun to make in regard to 
military aviation. This, as has been said, was in 
April. 

Four months later, however, there were only 
half a dozen officers of the Air Battalion who were 
competent to handle aeroplanes in reconnoitring 
work; the remainder had been either without 
machines, or had been engaged upon airship or 
balloon duties. 

Thus, despite repeated demonstrations of the 
value of the aeroplane for war purposes, and in face 
of the activity in France and Germany, we found 
ourselves, in September, 1911, with half a dozen 
military airmen who were ready to take part in 
the autumn manœuvres. As it happened, the 
manœuvres were cancelled; but, had they not been, 
six air-scouts would have been altogether insufficient 
to make any adequate test of the value of aerial 
reconnoitring. 

In sharp contrast to our lethargy, France was, at 
this time, ready to put thirty aeroplanes, with 
highly-skilled pilots and observers, at the disposal of the 
troops in her autumn manœuvres. More could 
have been obtained, if necessary; but this number 
was considered sufficient. 

It must not be thought that our military airmen 
lack either initiative or experience: they do not. In 
the limited opportunities they have had of showing 
what they can do, their performances have been 
highly meritorious. They are enthusiastic, and full 
of aptitude for their work. But they have lacked 
facilities, and also encouragement. Instead of there 
being purpose, and a genuine spirit of progress 
behind them, they have found neither energy nor 
interest, to say nothing of a persistent stinting of 
money. 

A question inevitably arises. It is this: why 
has England lagged behind such alert nations as 
France and Germany in the matter of aerial 
armament? The answer lies in the fact that, until 
recently, the importance of the aeroplane in warfare 
was denied. 

Enlightened views have been expressed, it is 
true; many men, even in official positions, have 
pronounced progressive opinions. But results are 
all-important; and it is a fact that no really satisfactory 
step has yet been taken to place this country on an 
equality with other nations in regard to an air-fleet. 

Lessons have been ignored. The whole subject 
has been neglected, and it has only been as the 
result of determined agitation that anything at all 
has been done. 

In view of the apathy prevailing, it was in May, 
1911, that the Parliamentary Aerial Defence 
Committee, a body comprising members of Parliament 
of all political views, organised, at the Hendon 
aerodrome—which had been placed at their disposal 
by the courtesy of Mr Claude Grahame-White—a 
special display of airmanship, to which they invited 
military experts. 

So far as it was possible to do so, in a one-day 
programme, a most convincing demonstration was 
given, both of the reliability and controllability of the 
modern aeroplane. Many famous people were 
present; a long programme of flying was carried out. 
Dispatches were borne across country; reconnoitring 
flights were made; aeroplanes were quickly 
dismantled, and speedily reassembled. In every 
possible way, in fact, the practicability of the new 
"arm" was demonstrated. 

II. Policy of "moving cautiously"—Peril of lagging behind in aerial armament. 
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After this display, the Parliamentary Aerial 
Defence Committee, feeling that the lesson taught 
should be pushed home, sought an interview with 
Lord Haldane, at the War Office. He readily saw 
the members of the Committee; but his reply to their 
representations—which were that we should keep 
abreast of other nations—indicated the spirit which 
then existed regarding the war aeroplane. 

The chief point made by the Secretary for War 
was that it was "desirable to move cautiously." The 
War Office should not, in his opinion, "commit itself 
to an idea which, in the present rapid development 
of aviation, might become obsolete in a few months." 

This statement was made to explain the fact 
that England's supply of war aeroplanes was 
inadequate. But the argument was not tenable. 
Naturally there has been, and will be, improvement in 
aeroplane construction from year to year. Such will 
always be the case. It is the same, for instance, in 
regard to battleships. Yet warships, despite their 
enormous cost, are built from year to year, in the full 
knowledge that they will be superseded by more 
modern types, and may even become obsolete while 
they are being constructed. 

As regards aeroplanes, the machines which France 
bought, early in 1911, are most certainly made to 
appear somewhat out-of-date by more perfect craft 
now obtainable. But these earlier machines will still 
be serviceable; and France will, above all, have 
acquired an immense amount of experience while 
using them. 

In this connection, it may be mentioned that, so 
far as can be ascertained at present, the aeroplane is 
likely to proceed along fairly steady lines of 
development—at any rate for the next year or so. There 
may be some revolutionary idea brought forward, 
of course; but, generally speaking, the immediate 
future seems to indicate a slow but sure improvement. 

There is no excuse for a country to hold back 
upon the argument that aeroplanes may become 
obsolete soon after they are built. In the first 
place, the cost of such machines, when compared 
with any other form of armament, is ridiculously low. 

To "scrap" a fleet of fifty or sixty aeroplanes 
would be an insignificant item in our general 
expenditure upon warlike instruments. But, as a matter of 
fact, there would be no need to abandon any type 
purchased. Out-of-date machines could still be 
employed, and made thoroughly useful, too, by 
being converted into "school" craft. 

Lord Haldane gave the impression, in his 
conversation with the members of the Parliamentary Aerial 
Defence Committee, that the War Office was holding 
back from the expenditure of money upon war 
aeroplanes until some fixed type of military machine was 
introduced. But it is not likely that any such 
machine will be designed—at any rate for some time 
to come. It is probable that progress will be 
represented by a succession of improving types, 
development taking place, chiefly, in regard to speed and 
stability. 

During this period of progress, there is no 
possible excuse for Great Britain to lag behind other 
countries. To-morrow, if a war broke out, France 
and Germany would have the full use of their 
adequate squadrons of machines. And what would our 
position be? We should have no proper fleet of 
machines, because we had been waiting for some 
ideal type to be evolved. 

As a matter of fact, neither France nor Germany 
consider that the aeroplanes they are at present 
using are anything but purely experimental 
machines. But they certainly represent the best 
obtainable at the moment; and, recognising the vital 
importance of keeping abreast of this new science, 
these two countries buy such machines, and will be 
quite ready to purchase more, as the process of 
improvement continues. 

In 1909, Lord Haldane said in the House of 
Commons:—

    "In war there is little use for anything unless 
    it can be applied with some certainty that it 
    would do what we want it to do, and unless you 
    have some exactness in results. Now that stage 
    (referring to aeroplanes) has not been reached." 

That, as has been said, was in 1909. At this 
time, certainly, aeroplanes were unreliable, although 
the promise of their practicability was such that there 
was no excuse for ignoring them, from the military 
point of view. 

But now let us turn to matters as they stand 
today. The modern aeroplane, with its engine as 
reliable as that in a motor-car, can be used with 
the greatest certainty for military work, and can fly 
long distances—heavily laden—without descending,
besides attaining a speed through the air exceeding 
that of an express train. 

III. The financial aspect—Money England is spending—The airship policy—Insufficient provision for aeroplanes.
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In the year ending 31st March, 1912, a sum of 
£113,000 will have been expended by our 
authorities upon military aeronautics. Of this sum, an 
appreciable amount is devoted to establishment 
charges, and such items; and a sum of £28,000 
was earmarked for building a new dirigible balloon 
shed at Farnborough, and in making improvements 
to the one at Wormwood Scrubs. 

This leaves £85,000; and this sum of money, 
quite inadequate as it is, is free to be spent 
upon airships and aeroplanes. Quite an active 
airship policy is pursued, and a large percentage of 
this money remaining is dribbled away upon these 
costly machines—in building new ones, and in 
repairing old ones. 

.. figure:: images/Image6.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: THE ENGINE-IN-FRONT BIPLANE.

   THE ENGINE-IN-FRONT BIPLANE.
   With the above machine—a type increasingly used for Service work—the Naval officers now experimenting at Eastchurch, Isle of Sheppy, have been carrying out recent tests. It was designed, and built, by Messrs. Short Brothers, who are now constructing special aeroplanes for Naval use.

Criticising this policy trenchantly, soon after the 
announcement of the manner in which the War Office 
proposed to spend its money, Mr Arthur du Cros, 
\M.P., the Hon. Secretary of the Parliamentary Aerial 
Defence Committee, remarked: "We, almost alone 
among nations, are developing the lighter-than-air 
type of machine to the exclusion of aeroplanes. 
France and Germany, formerly two of the staunchest 
advocates of the dirigible balloon, have almost 
ceased its development, in favour of the aeroplane. 

"In a year, in regard to these two machines, the 
tables have been turned," added Mr du Cros. "Now 
the aeroplane, which costs so much less than the 
dirigible, is infinitely its superior. One aeroplane, 
costing say £1000, would, in the case of actual aerial 
warfare, have completely at its mercy a dirigible 
balloon costing perhaps £50,000." 

Defending their policy, soon after Mr du Cros' 
attacks, and responding to the definite statement that 
"aeroplanes have become immeasurably superior to 
airships for military purposes," War Office experts 
advanced the argument: "There would be work in 
war-time, such as very detailed reconnaissance, that 
an airship could perform better than an aeroplane. 
Both types should, therefore, be developed." 

It may be agreed, in this connection, that the 
airship would, in a number of cases, allow of a 
more detailed reconnaissance being made than from 
an aeroplane; its slower speed, and the fact that it 
could hover over one spot, would give it this 
advantage. But, to set against this, there is one very 
obvious disadvantage. The size of the airship, and 
the fact that it is moving slowly, makes it an 
admirable target for artillery. In actual warfare, it would, 
without doubt, very soon be hit. 

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. 
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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.
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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. 
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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. 

.. figure:: images/Image7.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: MILITARY BIPLANE WITH TWO ENGINES.

   MILITARY BIPLANE WITH TWO ENGINES.
   This exceedingly interesting machine, which possesses especial significance from the military point of view, is equipped with two Gnome motors. One drives two propellers placed in front of the main-planes, and the other actuates a single rear propeller. Normally, both engines run at easy speed; but, should one fail in flight, the other, by being accelerated, will maintain the machine in the air. Its designers and builders are Messrs. Short Brothers.

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

.. figure:: images/Image8.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: BUILDING WAR AEROPLANES.

   BUILDING WAR AEROPLANES.
   In  this picture—taken in the Bristol works—skilled artizans are seen busy with the building of the bodies of a consignment of military-type monoplanes. Although apparently frail, these frameworks are—owing to their method of construction—immensely strong.

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. 
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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. 

Whereupon, the pilots will soar into the air from 
their camp, and speed away upon their missions. The 
pilot of the aeroplane will be concerned with nothing 
save the control of his machine. He will not need 
to trouble himself about the route taken, or about 
what is seen below. 

This work will fall upon the observer, who will 
be placed in the machine with an uninterrupted view 
of the country below him, and who will instruct 
the pilot as to the course he shall steer, and the 
elevation he shall maintain. 

The observer, indeed, will be in charge of the 
aeroplane. Upon him will rest the responsibility of 
the success of the expedition, from the point of view 
of the information to be obtained. But the work of 
the pilot will be important, also. Upon his skill, in 
manipulating the machine, will depend the carrying 
out of the flight, and the safe return of the aeroplane 
to Headquarters. 

Thus the fleet of air-scouts will start upon their 
errand of observation. Each machine will mount 
steadily, until an altitude, under ordinary conditions, 
of between 3000 and 4000 feet has been reached. 
Then, at this height, they will sweep out over the 
enemy's lines. The altitude mentioned is generally 
regarded as a good height for reconnoitring work 
because it permits the observer a fairly-detailed view 
of the ground below, and places him, also, at what is 
considered a safe elevation, so far as artillery fire is 
concerned. The important question of the 
vulnerability of aircraft, in regard to artillery fire, will be dealt 
with fully in a later section. 

As the reconnoitring machine moves out over the 
enemy, the pilot will be busy with the control of his 
machine. If the weather proves very favourable, 
his task will be a comparatively light one. All that 
he will need to do is to see that he is steering 
accurately upon the course laid down by the observer, and 
that his altitude remains at the level chosen. He will 
also listen attentively to the running of his engine, 
and occasionally note the number of revolutions 
it is making, as recorded by an indicator placed 
before him. 

If a reconnoitring flight has to be undertaken in 
adverse conditions, say with a gusty, treacherous 
wind blowing, the task of the pilot will be an 
extremely arduous one. Apart from the difficulty of 
keeping his craft upon a proper course, he will be 
faced with the nerve-racking task of preventing it 
from "side-slipping," under the onslaught of vicious 
gusts of wind. 

The "side-slip" which an aeroplane may make in 
a gusty wind is, indeed, a very unpleasant experience 
for those who are on board it. What happens is 
this: under the influence of a sudden gust, the 
machine heels over until it reaches an angle when 
forward motion is replaced by a swift, sickening slide 
sideways. A machine may "side-slip" in this 
fashion, for an appreciable distance, before the pilot 
is able to regain control of it. 

An example may be cited of an airman who slid 
down from an altitude of more than 800 feet, until 
he was within a couple of hundred feet of the ground. 
There is only one thing to do when a machine begins 
to "side-slip" in this way. The pilot must alter the 
angle of his elevating planes, so that the aeroplane 
dives forward as well as slips sideways. This dive 
adds to the machine's speed, and so checks the 
sideway fall; and, if his altitude is sufficient, the airman 
is able to regain control of his machine, and bring it 
back again upon an even keel, before there is danger 
of contact with the ground. 

In bad weather, as may be imagined, a 
reconnoitring trip may be a serious ordeal for the man 
at the levers. The responsibility for undertaking a 
flight, in unsuitable weather conditions, will fall 
upon the officer in command of the aviation depot. 
If, for example, the wind is too high for flying, it 
will be his duty to tell the Commander-in-Chief so, 
and delay the intended reconnaissance until 
conditions improve. 

The work of the pilot of the aeroplane, during a 
reconnoitring flight, has only been described so far; 
now we may deal with the task of the observer. 
He will, probably, have a busier time than the man 
at the levers. From the moment of leaving the 
ground, until the flight is finished, he will need to be 
on the alert. 

As the aeroplane approaches the enemy's lines, 
he will pore over the map fixed in a frame before 
him. In addition to this map, he will be provided 
with pencil and notebook. 

Thus, when any portion of the enemy's troops 
appear below him, his task will be perfectly clear. 

He will first need to identify them. That is to say, 
he must be able to determine whether he is looking at 
infantry, cavalry, or artillery; and then he must be 
able to decide as to the strength of the forces that 
are in view. 

These points determined, he will turn again to his 
map, so as to make sure of the actual point, on the 
battle line, where the troops he sees are stationed. 
This done, he will make notes in his book. 

And so, throughout the flight, will the 
observation officer be busy, peering downwards; consulting 
his map; afterwards scribbling hastily in his 
notebook. If he is not quite sure what anything is that he 
sees below him, he will ask the pilot to circle back, 
so that he can make another inspection. 

If the weather is perfectly clear, he may be able 
to instruct the airman to soar higher, and so be safer 
from any gun-fire from below. On the other hand, 
if the morning or evening is misty, he may have 
to take the risk of descending lower. 

Each unit on the squadron of observing aeroplanes 
will be carrying out the same routine. Wide-spread, 
the air-scouts will sweep over the enemy's position. 
In an hour, each air-scout will be able to traverse a 
distance of more than fifty miles, and nothing of 
importance below him should pass undetected. 

In a little more than an hour, from the time of 
their starting away, the squadron of machines should 
be returning to their camp. One by one they will 
come gliding down, and the observation officer in 
each machine will present a written report to his 
immediate chief. This officer, when all these 
reports are in his possession, will seek the Commander 
of the aviation depot. These two officers will speedily 
sift out the information brought in by air-scouts, 
and prepare, for the consideration of the 
Commander-in-Chief, a summary of the whole reconnaissance. 

This the Commander of aeroplanes will take with 
him to Headquarters, and the Commander-in-Chief, 
with the members of his staff, will bend over their 
maps, tracing the enemy's dispositions, noting his 
weak points, and also the positions where he may be 
in force. 

In regard to observing the actual movements of 
troops, as apart from the positions of stationary forces, 
the work of the war aeroplane should be wonderfully 
effective. An air-scout may, for example, report that 
a section of the enemy is on the march between two 
points at a given time. This news may be considered, 
by the Commander-in-Chief, to have a very important 
bearing upon the development of the enemy's plan 
of campaign. Is this body of troops still moving in 
the same direction, say an hour later? This may, 
quite likely, be the question upon which the 
Commander-in-Chief may want information. 

Upon hearing this, the Commander of aeroplanes 
will soon have two or three scouting machines on 
the move. There will be no difficulty about such 
individual work as this; and very soon the 
Commander-in-Chief should be supplied with the news 
that he requires. 

Thus it is possible to outline, in a general way, 
the reconnoitring work of the war aeroplane. It is 
not necessary to emphasise again the value of 
information which can be borne so quickly to a 
Commander-in-Chief; the importance of the news which 
will be gleaned by the air-scouts is, indeed, 
self-evident. 

As the result of an aerial reconnaissance by many 
machines, well-organised and successfully carried 
out, the Commander-in-Chief should be supplied with 
information which could not possibly be acquired 
in any other way, and which should tell him where 
the enemy was, and what they were doing, only an 
hour before the news is put before him. 

On such information, also, he can act with 
confidence. He need not hesitate, questioning its 
authenticity. On the maps before him, set forth in 
a manner beyond dispute, he will have the position of 
his foe, and the direction in which the chief bodies 
of troops are being moved. 

Nor is this all that the aeroplane can do, as has 
been shown. If a Commander-in-Chief is in doubt 
about any movement of the enemy, during the course 
of an action, he still has the aeroplane at his 
immediate service. 

There is no reason, indeed, why constant 
reconnaissances should not be made during the course of 
a battle. Suppose, for example, that a heavy attack 
has been made upon the enemy. It is sought to 
know whether such onslaught has had its full effect. 
Is the enemy falling back? This may become a 
question of great urgency, as it may govern a 
Commander-in-Chiefs next offensive move. Here is a 
task in which the air-scout can reveal his worth. 

Rising high, and flying over the enemy, he should 
be able to determine whether a retreat has begun, 
and should bring back this information to 
Headquarters with a minimum of delay. A definite 
instance of the use of the aeroplane in this connection 
was, it may be remembered, given in the French 
manœuvres in Picardy, when Lieutenant Sido was 
able to inform his Headquarters that the enemy was 
in retreat, after an important action. 

If his aeroplane service is efficient, and there is 
no delay in obtaining news, a Commander-in-Chief 
should be receiving constant intelligence, concerning 
the movements of the enemy, during the progress of 
a battle. It may be extremely important, for example, 
to know that the enemy is bringing up batteries to a 
certain point; or that a hill, or other point of vantage, 
is to be abandoned. From first to last, indeed, the 
aeroplane should be of the greatest use. 

But, as has been shown before, it will not be so 
much a case of the number of aeroplanes used, as of 
the organisation behind them. In this lies the crux 
of the situation. Unless pilots and observers are 
absolutely competent, and ready for their work, the 
results obtained cannot be satisfactory. 

The influence of the aeroplane scout upon military 
tactics will, undoubtedly, be marked. The German 
school, for example, advocates a strong, determined 
advance—not caring so much what the precise 
dispositions of an enemy are, but seeking to 
envelop him, and deliver one quick and crushing 
blow. 

French military tactics, on the other hand, are 
more strategical—more prone to play a waiting, 
watching game, and make a master-move after the 
battle scheme has, to a certain extent, revealed 
itself. 

What has been called "the fog of war"—that is 
to say, the meagre information regarding an enemy's 
movements, which is all that is available if aeroplanes 
are not used—suits the German method of blunt, 
dogged, hit-or-miss advance. Lack of information 
is not advantageous, on the other hand, to the 
carefully thought-out French strategy. 

What the advent of the air-scout does is to help 
the Commander-in-Chief, who is able to make subtle, 
deeply-planned moves, in which precise information 
is essential, and to discount a blind, crushing use of 
numbers. 

III. Other uses of the war aeroplane—Surveying—Dispatch-carrying—Directing gun-fire—Transport of staff officers. 
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The duties so far mentioned do not, by any 
means, exhaust the possibilities of the war 
aeroplane. So far, only military reconnaissance has been 
touched upon. This work is, of course, of 
outstanding importance; but an air-corps could, during 
a campaign, be put to many other tasks, all of them 
of genuine utility. 

Take, for example, the work of discovering the 
nature of the country over which an army is about 
to operate. This is a task which is extremely 
important. But, hitherto, the process of obtaining such 
information has been painfully slow—painfully slow, 
that is, when compared with the way the aeroplane 
will be able to carry out the work. 

Here, indeed, will be an ideal opportunity for 
a long-distance flight. In a three-hour, non-stop 
journey, a machine should be able to survey at least 
150 miles of country, and return with reports of the 
utmost value. 

How important this aerial survey-work will be is 
instanced by Major J. N. C. Kennedy, who, from 
his experience in the South African war, states that 
such disasters as Spion Kop could not have 
happened, if there had been aeroplanes to fly over and 
observe the country beforehand. 

Here, then, is another practical use for the 
aeroplane. A squadron of machines, flying ahead 
of an army on the march, will be able to return with 
accurate news as to the position of roads, railways, 
rivers, and bridges. Such information, received in 
good time, may prove of exceptional value to a 
Commander-in-Chief. 

Apart from general survey work, also, the air-corps 
will be able to execute highly-important orders in 
locating the position of an enemy's supply trains, 
magazines, and depots. 

Thus it can be seen that there will be practically 
constant use for war aeroplanes during a 
campaign—apart from their potentialities as weapons of 
destruction, concerning which notes will be written later. 

So highly does he rate the work of aircraft in 
wartime, for reconnoitring purposes, that the director 
of the military aviation service of the French army 
has declared: "Aeroplanes, carrying a steersman, 
observer, and combatant, will eventually supersede 
cavalry for scouting purposes." 

In this regard, it is interesting to note the opinion 
of a famous German military expert, who says:—

    "They (aeroplanes) will collect much 
    information which would never be accessible to cavalry, 
    and, above all, they will do it over long distances, 
    and in a much shorter time. It is a defect of 
    cavalry reconnaissance that the knowledge which 
    it yields has necessarily, in the great majority of 
    eases, been long overtaken by events. No small 
    gifts, on the part of the General, are necessary to 
    infer, from what was ascertained many hours 
    previously, what is actually the existing situation. 
    The possibilities of error are very great." 

Here is another striking tribute to the value of 
the war aeroplane. What this German expert was 
particularly impressed by, after observing a series 
of tests of aeroplanes for reconnoitring, was their 
wonderful speed, as compared with any other means 
of obtaining information. 

The point he makes, in this connection, is highly 
important. Not only will the aeroplane scout bring 
back news which it would be impossible to obtain 
by the use of cavalry, but he will place this news in 
the hands of a Commander-in-Chief while it is fresh, 
and of the fullest importance, and not many hours 
old—as the intelligence brought in by other methods 
of reconnaissance generally is. 

Another extremely useful function of the 
aeroplane, during a campaign, must not be forgotten. 
This is its use as a dispatch-carrier. In this regard, 
a light, swift machine will be found of utility. No 
ordinary obstacle will hamper it. The fact that the 
country is mountainous, or that there are awkward 
rivers to negotiate, present serious problems for the 
dispatch-rider, who sets out to carry a communication 
from point to point on horseback. In many cases, 
indeed, it becomes impossible to send a dispatch 
across country. 

But the aeroplane dispatch-carrier will think 
nothing of such difficulties as these. Over 
precipitous country, and across mountains, he will fly 
without hindrance; and he will be faced with no 
problems concerning the fording of rivers. As 
straight as an arrow, from point to point, he will 
carry his message, and at a pace in excess of that 
of the express train. 

The fact that skirmishing parties of the enemy 
are dotted about, between his starting-point and his 
objective, will not perplex him either, although it 
would prove a serious embarrassment to the 
dispatch-rider who used the land when in transit. 

Instances of the practical value of 
dispatch-carrying, in time of war, are readily forthcoming. 
A distinguished cavalry-officer, Colonel Grantham, 
supplies one, for instance. In the Chinese war, he 
recalls the plight of two columns which were 
advancing, about twenty miles apart, to deliver a combined 
attack. The country dividing them was 
mountainous; parties of the enemy were also moving about 
on it. The result was that, for several days, no 
message could be got through. This lack of 
communication made the scheme of a joint advance very 
difficult to carry out. Had an aeroplane 
dispatch-carrier been available, in such circumstances as 
these, he would have linked up the two columns in 
a twenty-minute flight, irrespective of all that lay 
below him. 

It is, of course, frequently necessary, during the 
progress of a battle, for Generals commanding 
various sections of an army to report to the 
Commander-in-Chief. Here the dispatch-carrying 
aeroplane, on account of its speed, will be of the 
greatest value. 

.. figure:: images/Image9.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: WEIGHT-CARRYING WAR BIPLANE.

   WEIGHT-CARRYING WAR BIPLANE.
   By Fitting "extensions" to the upper main-plane of the machine, as seen above, it is possible to achieve sustained flight with two, or even three occupants—or, should necessity arise, with a pilot and an appreciable load of explosives! The actual machine photographed is a Bristol, flying over the Brooklands aerodrome.

What can be done, in the way of long-distance 
dispatch-carrying, has been demonstrated most 
effectually by Captain Bellenger, a well-known 
French military airman. This officer, while 
stationed at the Vincennes air-depot, received 
instructions to carry a dispatch, as quickly as 
possible, to the military flying school at Pau. This 
represented a distance of 450 miles. Starting early 
one morning, Captain Bellenger reached Pau in 
seven hours sixteen minutes of actual flying. While 
*en route* he made three halts to replenish his petrol 
tank. 

Recent tests in France show that 
quickly-assembled, single-seated monoplanes will be 
extremely useful, in actual military operations, in 
co-operating with artillery, by giving aerial directions 
as to gun-fire. 

Upon occasions when the effect of long-distance 
fire is unknown to the gunner, an aerial observer, 
ascending to an altitude of several thousand feet, 
will be able to detect what mischief the shells are 
doing, and suggest—either by wireless telegraphy or 
by messages dropped from his machine—corrections 
in the gunner's aim. 

Another field of practical utility for the aeroplane, 
during an action, lies in the quick transport, from 
place to place, of staff officers. Horses, motor-cars, 
and motor-cycles have, hitherto, been employed for 
this purpose. But the aeroplane is infinitely their 
superior in the matter of speed. 

Roads may be blocked with troops, or transport 
waggons, thereby holding up, temporarily, the 
passage of any motor-cars or motor-cycles. No 
such hindrances affect the aeroplane. With such 
reliable passenger-carrying machines as are now 
available, staff officers will be able to flit from point 
to point on a battlefield, with a minimum of delay. 
This will prove an extremely valuable addition to 
what may be termed the conveniences of war. 

It is legitimate, at this juncture, having illustrated 
the uses of an aeroplane in time of war, to picture, 
briefly, the contrast between two 
Commanders-in-Chief, one of them possessing an up-to-date fleet of 
war aeroplanes, and the other without any such aid. 
Prior to an action, the one who has an aeroplane 
corps sends out his machines upon a general 
reconnaissance. As a result he is, in an hour or 
so, in possession of all the information he requires 
concerning the enemy. He is able to calculate 
where his antagonist's main blow is to be struck; 
and he is also able to estimate the weak points in his 
opponent's fighting line. 

The Commander who is without aeroplanes sends 
out his cavalry scouts, in the time-honoured fashion, 
and relies upon news from outposts. What 
information he thus obtains is bound to be many hours
older than that, concerning his own movements, 
which is in the possession of the enemy. 
Furthermore, it leaves many questions of urgency altogether 
unanswered. But, unsatisfactory though his 
knowledge of his opponent's intentions is, the Commander 
has to grope forward. A certain blind doggedness 
actuates him; it is a case, more or less, of 
hit-or-miss. 

Now, were his opponent in a similarly fumbling 
state of mind, it would not matter so much. But, 
thanks to his aeroplanes, Commander No. 1 has 
his opponent's dispositions and movements carefully 
marked upon his maps.
 
Thus the two armies come into conflict. One 
Commander-in-Chief knows everything; the other 
knows practically nothing. What is the result likely 
to be? One strikes swiftly and surely, aware of the 
precise strength opposed to him. The other fumbles 
blindly in the dark. 

EIGHTH SECTION WIRELESS TELEGRAPHY AND PHOTOGRAPHY AS AIDS TO AERIAL RECONNAISSANCE 
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\I. First tests and successes with wireless telegraphy—Difficulty of equipping an aeroplane with transmitting plant. 
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In the descriptions of the uses of an aeroplane in 
war, which have been set forth in previous sections, 
nothing has been said concerning an adjunct which 
now promises to have an importance quite 
overwhelming upon future operations with aircraft. 

This has reference to the use of wireless 
telegraphy. It was thought, at first, that any employment 
of this marvel of science, so far as aeroplanes were 
concerned, would be hopeless. The fact that the 
aeroplane is suspended, so to speak, in mid-air, with 
no earth communication, made the problem of 
equipping it with wireless particularly difficult. 

But the value of a wireless message, from a flying 
machine, has always been recognised; and so most 
careful experiments have been made to devise an 
apparatus. In addition to the difficulty of 
transmitting messages from an aeroplane, there was the 
important question of weight to be considered. It 
was seen that any apparatus, made to be carried 
upon aircraft, must be extremely light; and, at the 
same time, it was essential that it should be of a small 
and convenient size, so that it could be stowed away 
somewhere in the proximity of the pilot's seat. 

It was in America, in August, 1910, that the first 
success was obtained. An aeroplane ascended with 
the necessary transmitting mechanism on board, and 
with a long aerial wire trailing behind it, weighted with 
lead, from which the wireless messages were radiated. 
The apparatus was crude, and unsatisfactory from 
many points of view, but actual signals were received, 
from the aeroplane, by a station on the ground. 

Only the most simple messages were attempted, 
and the aeroplane flew round in fairly close proximity 
to the receiving station. As a matter of fact, the 
best results reported, in connection with this series 
of tests, was a message transmitted from the aeroplane 
when it was 500 feet high, and which reached the 
receiving station from a distance of about a mile. 

This result was distinctly encouraging. It showed 
that wireless telegraphy, as applied to the aeroplane, 
was not impossible; and it had the effect, also, of 
stimulating interest in other countries, and of setting 
many clever brains to work. 

It was in the following month (September, 1910) 
that a series of experiments were begun in England. 
Salisbury Plain was the flying ground chosen, and 
Mr Robert Loraine, a well-known actor who had 
become prominent as an airman, was the pilot of the 
machine with which the tests were made. 

The aeroplane employed in the experiments was 
a Bristol biplane, fitted with a "Gnome" motor; and 
the designer of the wireless transmitting mechanism 
used was Mr Thome Baker, a well-known electrical 
expert. After a number of tests, he had produced 
a transmitter which only weighed about 14 lb., and 
which could be fixed, quite conveniently, behind the 
pilot's seat. 

Mr Baker was also able to abolish the long 
trailing wire behind the machine, which had been 
used in the American experiments. Such a wire, it 
was recognised, was a bad feature of any equipment. 
Apart from the obvious clumsiness of such a device, 
it offered a danger of becoming entangled with 
the rapidly-revolving propeller of the machine, and 
so causing an accident. Mr Thorne Baker obviated 
this difficulty, in his tests, by twining his aerial wire 
round the wooden supports between the main-planes 
of the machine. 

Another long wire, the receiver, was stretched 
between posts on the ground; and then Mr Loraine 
ascended, and began to circle round and round the 
aerodrome. For transmitting purposes, he had a 
little key strapped to his knee, and operated it with 
his left hand—his right hand being engaged, of 
course, with the controlling lever of his machine. 

Again, as in the American experiments, only the 
simplest messages were attempted. They were, 
however, quite distinctly heard. At first, the signals 
were not received over a distance of more than half 
a mile, but it was soon found possible to increase the 
distance between transmitter and receiver to 
approximately one mile. At this distance, the dots and 
dashes telegraphed were distinctly read by Mr Thorne 
Baker, who received them—as is the custom with 
wireless telegraphy—through telephone ear-pieces. 

Following these tests, Mr Thorne Baker set 
himself the task of perfecting his apparatus; and a very 
interesting experiment was planned, in December, 
1910, in connection with the De Forest cross-Channel 
aeroplane prize. 

Lieutenant H. E. Watkins, one of the competitors, 
consented to take up a transmitting apparatus with 
him, on his cross-Channel flight, so that he might 
endeavour to keep in touch with a steam-tug, in 
which his friends intended to follow him from 
Folkestone to the French coast. 

The transmitter which Mr Baker prepared for this 
experiment was more powerful than the one used in 
the Salisbury Plain tests, and some conclusive results 
were expected from this oversea flight. 
Unfortunately, however, Lieutenant Watkins was delayed 
by bad weather, and a series of trifling accidents, 
and so was unable to start upon the flight. The 
wireless test had, therefore, to be abandoned. 

After this, it fell to the lot of America to make 
the next move of any interest. Lieutenant Beck, 
a young officer-airman engaged in military 
experiments with aeroplanes, took up a transmitter with 
him, and was able to send messages to a special 
receiving station, over a distance of quite two and 
a half miles. This, naturally, was regarded as 
distinct progress. The messages were clearly read; 
and there now seemed no difficulty, with better 
transmitting mechanism, in increasing the distance 
over which the signals were sent. 

II. French triumphs with wireless telegraphy—Messages sent over a distance of thirty-five miles. 
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In the meantime, as may be imagined, France had 
not been lethargic in dealing with this subject. The 
French military authorities had, from the first, 
recognised that wireless telegraphy, if it could be applied 
reliably to the aeroplane, would greatly increase the 
utility of aircraft in time of war. 

At several of the French military aerodromes, at 
the beginning of 1911, experiments were in progress, 
and clever civilian electricians were called into 
conference by the authorities. But only meagre news 
leaked out as to what was actually being done. 

Before the end of January, 1911, however, definite 
results had been obtained. Mr Maurice Farman, a 
brother of Mr Henry Farman, who had built an 
excellent biplane for military use, ascended at the 
aerodrome at Buc, and sent a wireless message back 
to the flying ground, when he was passing over the 
countryside quite ten miles away. 

This was a highly-important result, and promised 
to place the wireless outfit on a practical basis, so 
far as war purposes were concerned. Further tests 
were made at Buc, and the radius over which 
messages could be transmitted was soon increased from 
ten to fifteen miles. 

At this juncture, the French military authorities 
took the matter in hand with renewed vigour, 
and the energies of the scientific staff were directed 
towards still further increasing the transmitting power 
of the apparatus installed. 

An improved transmitting mechanism, weighing 
about 55 lb., was built and fitted to a biplane at 
the beginning of July, 1911; and Captain Brenot, 
a prominent French military airman, was given the 
task of thoroughly testing this device. He was able 
to do so with remarkable results. 

While flying between St Cyr and Rambouillet, he 
succeeded in getting into touch with the wireless 
installation fixed upon the Eiffel Tower in Paris. 
The distance was one of at least thirty-five miles. 

Captain Brenot did more, also, than transmit a 
mere series of dots and dashes. He spelt out a 
complete message while flying, and it was correctly 
received by an operator of the Eiffel Tower 
wireless station. This historic aerial message was as 
follows:—

    "Captain Brenot, conducting experiments in 
    aeroplane with wireless telegraphy, to the Minister 
    of War.—Flying between St Cyr and Rambouillet. 
    We beg to present our sincere regards. We are 
    above the forest of Rambouillet, at a height of 
    1640 feet." 

Nothing could have been more dramatic, in its 
way, than the receipt of this message in Paris from 
an aeroplane, fitted with wireless telegraphy, thirty 
miles away; it demonstrated, conclusively, that an 
aeroplane, when equipped in this way, was an 
absolutely-revolutionary weapon of warfare. 

Since then, French tests with wireless have been 
steadily going ahead, and improvements have been 
made. The results obtained are now more certain; 
and it has been proved, beyond doubt, that the 
wireless message from an air-scout will play a very 
prominent part in future military operations. 

III. Practical uses of wireless upon aeroplanes—England's lack of effort. 
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How wireless telegraphy will aid the military 
airman may readily be seen. It will, in the first 
instance, be a remarkable time-saver. Instead of 
returning to Headquarters with a brief and urgent 
report, the observation officer in an aeroplane will 
be able to transmit it instantaneously, while still 
flying on his course. In the case of machines not 
equipped with a wireless installation, a reconnoitring 
flight will need to be followed by a return journey to 
the aeroplane camp. Then the airman's message will 
have to be brought along to Headquarters. Thus 
there will be some delay, although this can, of 
course, be reduced to a minimum by sound 
organisation. 

But the fitting of a wireless apparatus will obviate, 
at one stroke, all delay occasioned by a machine 
flying back from the district over which it is 
reconnoitring, by the descent at the military camp, and by 
the conveying of the news to Headquarters. 

It is not likely, however, that every machine will 
be fitted with a wireless outfit. In an aerial 
reconnaissance under ordinary conditions—made, say, 
during the early morning or evening, to show the 
general disposition of an enemy at a specified 
time—it will be sufficient if the airmen return to their 
starting-point, and the news is brought to 
Headquarters in the ordinary way. There will not, in 
such cases, be sufficient urgency to justify the use of 
wireless messages. 

But, under many circumstances which will arise 
during war, a machine which can flash back frequent 
messages, without losing the time of actually flying 
back with them, will be of almost inestimable value. 

Let us take, for example, the position of a 
Commander-in-Chief who is in the act of delivering a 
heavy attack, and wishes to know, from moment to 
moment if possible, how the onslaught is being 
withstood, and if there is any tendency on the part of 
his enemy to retreat. In such a case a special 
aeroplane, fitted with wireless, would be dispatched, to 
fly in circles over the fighting area; and a 
portable receiving apparatus would be moved up close 
beside the point where the Commander-in-Chief had 
stationed himself. In this way, news could be 
received in the form of a constant stream of messages. 

This is only one instance of the practical utility of 
wireless telegraphy from an aeroplane during 
wartime; many others, naturally, present themselves. 
In the course of a battle, the officer commanding 
aeroplanes should always have, ready for an 
emergency, one or two machines which are equipped with 
wireless. Thus, immediately any point arises 
regarding a movement of the enemy, upon which the 
Commander-in-Chief desires speedy enlightenment, a 
machine can be sent off without a moment's delay; 
and the information, once obtained, can be flashed 
back by wireless a second or so after the observation 
officer has made his reconnaissance. 

During a series of military experiments with 
wireless telegraphy, carried out in France during August 
and September, 1911, the possibility of directing the 
fire of artillery, by means of messages from an 
aeroplane, was investigated. Ascending from a fortified 
position, which was supposed to be besieged, 
aeroplanes, equipped with wireless installations, made 
circuits over the country, in the immediate 
neighbourhood, and sent back messages to their 
Headquarters, describing with complete accuracy the 
position of concealed batteries, which were assumed 
to be carrying out a bombardment. 

Aided by this intelligence, the gunners of the 
besieged position would, in actual warfare, have been 
able to direct a telling fire upon their hidden enemy. 
It would be possible, also, in such circumstances, 
for the aeroplanist to remain aloft during the firing, 
and actually direct the gunners in their aim by means 
of wireless signals. 

Taking into consideration such possibilities as 
these, an eminent French military expert has 
observed: "The aeroplane, without wireless 
telegraphy, is a sufficiently wonderful 'arm,' altering all 
our preconceived notions concerning warlike 
operations. And now comes this new marvel. It is almost 
impossible to calculate what the effect of wireless 
signals from an aeroplane, during a battle, will be. 
This much is certain. The use of machines so 
equipped will play a revolutionary part in any 
action. Upon their skilful handling, of course, 
much will depend. Unless a Commander-in-Chief 
has accustomed himself to their use, during peace 
manœuvres, and unless the officers operating the 
transmitting mechanism, and those receiving the 
messages, are well-trained and thoroughly 
accustomed to their work, the best results are not likely 
to be obtained." 

Naturally, in this connection, the question arises: 
what is England doing? The reply cannot be 
anything but disappointing. The 
privately-conducted experiments of Mr Thorne Baker, 
previously mentioned, represent practically all that 
has been done to perfect wireless telegraphy for 
aerial use. 

So far as the authorities are concerned, civilian 
suggestions of co-operation, towards obtaining 
improved apparatus, have not been received in an 
encouraging spirit. From the small army airship, "The 
Beta," wireless trials have, it is true, been carried out 
once or twice; and some unambitious experiments 
with biplanes, at the Royal Aircraft Factory, were 
reported in April, 1912. But no practical outfit has 
been devised. 

As a matter of fact, this question of the 
application of wireless telegraphy to aeroplanes provides 
a very striking illustration of the evils of our 
backward policy. Immediately there was an opportunity 
of using wireless successfully, the French military 
authorities were able to take advantage of the 
situation, and carry out adequate tests. This was because 
their organisation was what it should be, and because 
they had men and machines ready to be used in any 
experiments required. 

Our backward position told against us inevitably, 
when this new adjunct to the aeroplane came along. 
We had insufficient machines, and not enough men. 
It was, as a matter of fact, more than sufficient for 
us to make anything like a show in ordinary flying 
work, without being required to go a stage further, 
and experiment with wireless. 

Thus the lesson can be forced home. France has 
taken up this new aid to aerial reconnoitring—is 
perfecting herself in it, and accustoming her officers to 
its use. We have not begun to work with it yet. We 
are thus a definite stage behind, and shall remain so, 
unless a real effort is put forth to make up leeway. 

By the time we have come to the stage of adopting 
a wireless installation upon aeroplanes, France may 
be busy with some new, and even more important, 
phase of flying. 

As the military expert quoted above remarks, with 
perfect truth, it is essential that adequate and realistic 
tests should be carried out, with such an aid as 
wireless telegraphy, before any really effective use can be 
made of it. 

IV. Photography from a war aeroplane—The use of special automatic cameras. 
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While dealing, in this section, with such an 
adjunct to reconnoitring as is afforded by wireless 
telegraphy, it is permissible, also, to refer to the use of 
photography in connection with aeroplanes. 

Here, once more, it is necessary to turn to France 
for an illustration of recent work. Ascending from 
the Chalons military camp, quite recently, Lieutenant 
Blard, an army airman, succeeded in obtaining some 
excellent photographs of Rheims when flying at an 
altitude of 4000 feet. He used a special camera. 

In America, also, practical attention has been 
devoted to this phase of military aeroplaning. An 
officer, when flying in a biplane, has succeeded in 
obtaining good photographs from as great an altitude 
as 6000 feet. 

The utility of photography, as increasing the 
powers of the aeroplane in war-time, will be 
considerable. In an aerial survey of country, for instance, 
the camera will play an important part. A series of 
good photographs, when pieced together, will reveal 
the characteristics of land from the military point 
of view; and, in taking photographs of 
fortifications, the aeroplane with a camera will find another 
ready use. 

It is now held that all scouting aeroplanes should be 
fitted with a camera, to be used, during reconnoitring, 
whenever a favourable opportunity arises. 

In the first tests made with photography from an 
aeroplane, an ordinary camera was used, being held, 
by the passenger in the machine, in the best position 
possible to secure a photograph of whatever object 
it was desired to snapshot. 

But this method was seen to be somewhat clumsy. 
In many machines, for example, it was not possible 
to obtain a picture, when taken in this fashion, of 
anything directly below. The business of changing 
plates, also, was found to be an awkward one. 

So it was seen that there was need for something 
in the nature of the automatic camera, specially 
designed for military work. In Germany, where 
great interest has been evinced in aerial photography, 
a camera with a special telephoto lens, operating 
almost like a gun, has been devised for use in an 
aeroplane. This machine the observer holds to his 
shoulder, "aiming" it at the object which he wishes 
to photograph, and making the exposure by the 
pulling of a trigger. 

In England, where private enterprise has 
outstripped any official action, Mr Thorne Baker has 
devised a very ingenious camera. This is suspended 
below the aeroplane, in such a position that it points 
directly downwards; and the whole operation of the 
camera is automatic. 

The airman or observer puts the machine in action 
by pressing a button. This causes a photograph to 
be taken of whatever the aeroplane is passing over 
at the moment. Then, by means of another piece 
of automatic machinery, a plate is changed for a 
fresh exposure. Such a camera as this will, 
undoubtedly, prove of very considerable value as an 
adjunct to survey work with an aeroplane. 

At the end of August, 1911, several military 
officers in France carried out special tests with aerial 
photography. They made flights over fortresses, 
for example, and secured excellent pictures. Tracts 
of country were also photographed, as were troops 
on the march. 

The result is that photography has joined 
wireless telegraphy, in the French air-corps, as a definite 
aid to aerial reconnoitring. 

.. figure:: images/Image10.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: WAR MONOPLANES "VOL PLANE."
   
   WAR MONOPLANES "VOL PLANE."
   In the above picture, a two-seated, military type Bristol monoplane is seen descending, with engine stopped and propeller motionless, from a reconnoitring flight. Pilot and passenger are plainly discernable.

NINTH SECTION DEVELOPMENT OF ALL-WEATHER WAR AEROPLANES 
-------------------------------------------------------

\I. Flights in thirty-five-mile-an-hour winds—Arguments of sceptics—What the great contests of 1911 proved.
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Reference has been made to the fact that, as soon 
as engines became reliable, and airmen gained 
confidence, winds of an appreciable velocity were 
successfully combated. 

But even now, despite the strides which the 
aeroplane is making towards becoming an all-weather 
machine, those who belittle it from the military point 
of view, and uphold an official policy of inactivity, 
are found ready to argue that the heavier-than-air 
machine is still purely a fine-weather craft. Such 
an attitude is governed, not so much by deep-rooted 
conservatism, as by ignorance. 

The fact is that the wind-flying capabilities of 
an aeroplane have been improved to an altogether 
remarkable extent. So far as an average can be 
struck, it may be said that, at the present time, a war 
machine can be operated, and can carry out useful 
work, in a wind blowing at the rate of from thirty to 
thirty-five miles an hour. Higher winds are, as has 
been said, occasionally combated; but this 
represents, approximately, the maximum for practical 
purposes to-day. 

Some military critics, when such facts as these are 
adduced, raise the point that such "air-worthiness" 
as this is not sufficient. The complications of war 
are already so great, they declare, that a 
Commander-in-Chief is not justified in increasing his 
responsibilities by saddling himself with a squadron of 
aeroplanes, when the machines will be inoperative should 
a high wind spring up. 

"Enthusiasts do not seem to realise this point," 
a military critic has observed, in regard to the general 
question of aeroplane reliability. "A commander of 
troops would, almost, be more hampered than helped 
by an air service, were it only possible to use it one 
day, and then not the next, and so on. He would rely 
upon it, you see, and then it would fail him just at 
some critical moment. I know it may be said, in 
answer to this, that even if only occasional use can be 
made of aeroplanes, it is worth while to equip an army 
with them, because, if they succeed in their object 
once in six times, they may alter the whole course 
of a battle. But it must be remembered that a very 
considerable organisation has to be built up, if an 
aeroplane service is to be of any real use. The 
already huge impedimenta of an army has to be 
added to; and this, alone, is a very serious point. 
On account of the unreliability of the air service, 
also, cavalry scouts, and other scouting agencies, 
have to be employed, just as usual. The position 
is, really, a somewhat unsatisfactory one. For days 
on end, if the weather is bad, the aeroplanes may be 
inoperative." 

This view is, of course, an unduly pessimistic one. 

Having regard to the capabilities of present-type 
aeroplanes, the occasions upon which war machines
would be windbound would be very rare. It is reliably 
estimated, in fact, that aeroplane scouts would be 
able to render good service on 80 per cent, of the 
days of the year. 

It might happen that a boisterous wind, rising in 
the morning, would prevent the air-scouts from 
working at midday, or during the afternoon. But, 
even during a generally unfavourable spell of 
weather, a shrewd Commander of aeroplanes should 
be able to snatch an hour's lull in the wind, probably 
in the early morning or evening, and get his machines 
to work. 

Either a morning or evening calm, during a 
period of gusty winds, is generally experienced; and, 
in any such lull, so rapid is their work, the aeroplanes 
should be able to acquire what information is 
necessary, and be back again at Headquarters, before any 
hazardous rising of the wind takes place. 

In this way, it should be possible to manipulate 
the service, even with existing machines, so as to 
make it of practical value, upon almost every day 
of a campaign; and the fact that one hour's work 
would probably be sufficient for a reconnoitring 
flight, is the important factor of the situation to be 
remembered. 

The point to be made in this connection is this: 
those who have studied the progress of aeroplaning, 
and realise the wonderful strides which have recently 
been made, see quite clearly that, even under 
unfavourable conditions, a war machine should be able 
to give a very good account of itself. 

This fact will not be admitted, however, by those 
who still maintain the attitude that the aeroplane is 
a fair-weather machine, and will never be anything 
else. Their prejudice will not permit them to read, 
as they should, the lessons of recent events. They 
magnify failures, and ignore successes. 

For such a negative policy there was, at first, some 
excuse, although scepticism, at the dawn of a new 
industry, is the reverse of helpful. When aeroplanes 
were in their crudest stage, they provided plenty of 
material for the cynic. In those days, pilots spent 
most of their time in their hangars, tuning up 
obstinate engines; and it was a case, as one humorous 
pioneer put it, of flying "a mile a month." 

The prevailing spirit of scepticism was well 
revealed in the attitude taken up by many people 
in connection with the prize of £10,000 offered by 
*The Daily Mail* for the flight from London to 
Manchester. To imagine that such a feat would be 
accomplished was regarded as ridiculous. And yet, 
practically at the first attempt, the flight was made. 
Then came the second £10,000 prize by the 
generous and far-seeing proprietors of *The Daily 
Mail*—this time for a 1000-miles aerial tour around 
Great Britain, in which rules were introduced to make 
it incumbent upon pilots to complete the whole course 
upon one machine. 

Here was a leap, indeed. From 180 miles to 
1000! Could it be done? Could such a reliable 
aeroplane be found? These were the questions 
asked; and, in this connection, one significant fact 
may be mentioned. It was this: even some of the 
experts—men thoroughly well acquainted with the 
industry—were doubtful as to whether this prize 
would be won. They knew, of course, what giant 
strides were being made. But, still, so severe was 
the ordeal, they had their doubts. 

What a triumph this great contest was for the 
aeroplane will be fresh in any reader's memory. 
Flying neck and neck round the 1010-miles course, 
Beaumont and Vedrines astonished the world by the 
certainty of their aerial progress. 

Calculations as to when the race would finish 
had been made beforehand. Reckoning the very 
highest speeds it would be possible to attain, and 
assuming an entire absence of mechanical troubles, 
it was estimated that the winner would complete the 
circuit at a certain hour on a specified morning; and 
the winner, Beaumont, was only four hours longer, 
in completing the course, than the most favourable 
estimate had allowed him. 

Even the most enthusiastic supporters of the 
aeroplane were astonished by this feat. In flying, 
which was spread out over several days, and involved 
aerial journeys over most difficult country, Beaumont 
and Vedrines made light of every adverse condition. 
In Scotland, they combated winds so violent that 
their machines danced and plunged in the air, and 
occasionally "side-slipped" for many feet under 
the treacherous impulses of unexpected gusts. But, 
when they were begged to wait a while, and give 
the weather an opportunity of improving, these 
two champions resolutely took their seats in their 
monoplanes, and flew on. The lesson, from the 
military point of view, was overwhelmingly 
important. 

Not only did these two men fly with the regularity 
and speed of express trains, but they both 
performed their wonderful feats on machines which were 
unchanged throughout. This represented the real 
progress. In previous contests of a similar nature, 
in which long distances had been traversed, there 
had been no restriction at all as to the number of 
machines used. 

The result had been, therefore, that makers of 
aeroplanes, naturally anxious to see their 
representatives win, had dotted spare machines all over the 
route; and, in one instance, a competitor used as 
many as three aeroplanes before completing one 
long-distance race. 

The point we are immediately concerned with is 
this. A certain number of days, chosen a long time 
ahead, were set apart for this 1000-miles race round 
Great Britain; and upon these days it was flown. 
Beaumont and Vedrines proceeded from stage to 
stage, flying to schedule, and making light of adverse 
weather. The climatic conditions, as has been said, 
were not ideal. When the time came to leave 
Edinburgh, for instance, so powerful a wind was blowing 
that it was not reckoned, even by practical men, that 
the pilots would be able to get away. 

But, to the amazement even of officials, the two 
monoplanists soared up, and deliberately fought the 
wind. While flying on to the other stopping-places 
in Scotland, also, both men passed through heavy 
storms of rain; and again, contrary to expectation, 
they did not descend, but battled on. The result 
was that, when this wonderful air race was at an end, 
both men were justified in describing their 
monoplanes as all-weather machines. 

What this performance, and others, have 
demonstrated is this: at the present moment, although 
admittedly experimental, the aeroplane is sufficiently 
well able to combat adverse weather as to make it 
a highly-useful weapon of war. 

II. Value of high speed, when combating a wind—Constructional difficulties of a hundred-mile-an-hour machine. 
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It is unwise to regard the capabilities of the 
present-type aeroplane as representing, in any way, 
a limit, or a standard of achievement. What the 
machine built to-day can perform, the aeroplane of 
to-morrow will, assuredly, be able to improve upon; 
and so progress will be recorded, until something in 
the nature of a perfected aircraft is evolved. 

As a matter of fact, there is practically no stage, 
in connection with any forms of manufacture, when 
a builder can say: "Here is a machine incapable of 
improvement." Take, as an example, the motor-car. 
The luxurious, six-cylindered machine appears to 
represent what may be termed "the last word"; but 
small improvements are constantly being made, and 
thoughtful manufacturers still see new avenues of 
progress. 

So it is in regard to the wind-flying capabilities 
of an aeroplane. Thirty to thirty-five miles an hour 
represents, as has been said, a fair maximum for the 
strength of wind in which a machine can be navigated 
at the present time. But this will not exist long as a 
standard; improvements in the speed, and in the 
general stability of machines, are being made from 
day to day. 

The result of this progress in manufacture will be 
that the aeroplane will be navigable in higher and 
higher winds. Forty-mile-an-hour winds will, before 
long, cease to prevent regular flight; and it is the 
view of eminent designers and builders that it will 
be possible for the aeroplane to remain aloft in winds 
blowing at the rate of more than fifty miles an hour. 
It is hoped, in fact, that machines will, eventually, 
be able to live in any wind save such a raging gale 
as drives big steamships to port. 

Already, certain definite lines of improvement 
suggest themselves to the makers of aeroplanes. In 
combating a high wind, failing any device to provide 
an aeroplane with automatic stability, high speed 
is found to be of the greatest aid. But there are 
difficulties in connection with the attaining of high 
speed, as will be shown later. 

An illustration of the value of high speed, in 
overcoming the wind, was giving at the Rheims flying 
meeting in the summer of 1910. Morane, testing a 
monoplane fitted with a motor of a hundred 
horse-power, attained a speed of quite eighty miles an hour. 
Travelling at this rate, he found that he was able 
to pass close behind other machines, despite the rush 
of wind from their propellers. Had he been flying 
a slower machine, this "back-draught" would, 
inevitably, have caused him to capsize. 

Speed, also, was what helped Beaumont and 
Vedrines, when they were fighting adverse winds in 
the Circuit of Britain. Beaumont's monoplane had a 
speed of a little over sixty miles an hour; and that 
of Vedrines was a trifle faster. Had either of these 
airmen been piloting a slow-flying biplane, he would 
have been forced to descend, seeing that his machine 
would have become unmanageable in heavy gusts. 

Speed, therefore, is the aim of most 
manufacturers. They see that the aeroplane must, if it is 
to compete commercially with land or sea transit, 
provide a means of locomotion more rapid than any 
which at present exists; and they recognise, also, 
that speed offers—at any rate at present—a solution 
of the problem of all-weather flying. 

But there are, as has been hinted, difficulties in the 
way of large increases in speed. Two hundred miles 
an hour through the air is, frequently, cited as the 
ideal to be aimed at. So far, with a specially-built 
racing machine, a speed of approximately a hundred 
miles an hour has represented the maximum attained. 
Such machines are, however, more or less "freaks"; 
the best results obtained with ordinary machines being 
from sixty-five to seventy miles an hour. 

Higher speeds still might be thought to be merely a 
question of increasing horse-power. But other 
considerations enter into the question. A high-speed 
machine has, it must be remembered, to start away 
from the ground, and land again at the end of a 
flight; its actual passage through the air is not the 
only point to be considered. 

With a racing monoplane, for example, the small 
size of its supporting wings, and the slight camber 
upon them, necessitate its moving over the ground 
at a very high speed before it can obtain the necessary 
"lift" to get into the air; and then comes the question 
of returning to the ground again. These fast machines 
will only glide at comparatively high speeds. 

A problem arises, therefore, as to the landing 
chassis which will withstand the shock of high-speed 
landings—that is to say, on anything save perfectly 
smooth ground. Apart from the question of the skill 
of the pilot, in effecting a safe descent at such high 
speeds—and this is a factor seriously to be reckoned 
with—the running-wheels and skids of a machine will 
not endure the strain of a landing on anything like a 
rough surface. 

Thus, were speeds to be pushed, say, to a hundred 
and fifty miles an hour, under present conditions of 
flying, and with any existing method of building 
landing mechanism, accidents would be likely to happen, 
when airmen came to the point of effecting a descent. 

Also to be reckoned with, is the question of 
increasing the structural strength of machines in order to 
meet the wind pressure of very high speeds. 

III. Variable-speed aeroplane—Plans for constructing aircraft of this type—Advantages of such a machine. 
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As regards the problem of a fast, and yet reliable 
aeroplane, which is an especially important one from 
the military point of view, seeing that machines will 
need to operate over all sorts of country during a 
campaign, the view is now taken, by eminent 
manufacturers, that something in the nature of a 
variable-speed aircraft will need to be devised. 

If this can be evolved, it certainly promises a 
solution of the problem. What the question resolves 
itself into, as can be seen, is this: there are very 
distinct limits to the rate at which it is practical to move 
across the ground on preparing to soar, and also to 
the speed at which it is feasible to return again to 
earth. 

The variable-speed machine seems destined to 
meet these difficulties, and makers are busy with plans 
for the building of aeroplanes of this type. The 
immediate aim is to produce, if possible, an 
aeroplane with a maximum speed approaching, say, a 
hundred miles an hour, and a minimum speed of 
about thirty miles an hour. 

In this way, adequate use would be made of the 
air as a speed medium and, at the same time, it would 
be possible to effect satisfactory landings on fairly 
rough ground, as well as on smooth surfaces. For the 
production of such a variable-speed machine, several 
designs have already been prepared; but, as yet, 
each awaits the ordeal of a practical test. 

One plan, for example, involves the altering of 
the angle of incidence of the planes, while a machine 
is in flight. The angle would, that is to say, be made 
steep for slow flight, and flatter when high speed was 
required. Another device aims at obtaining variable 
speed by a process of reefing the planes of a machine. 
This would be done by reducing, or rolling up, the 
rear extremities of the plane surfaces. 

According to this system, a machine would have 
its slowest speed when its maximum amount of 
sustaining surface was in operation, and would fly 
faster as the pilot gradually brought into play the 
reefing process. 

A third scheme which is suggested deals with the 
telescoping of the plane-ends of a machine, thereby 
reducing the lifting surface. 

Of these methods, the one most favoured, 
having regard to its practicability, is that of slightly 
altering the angle of the planes; and several 
manufacturers are already busy with experimental 
machines of this type. It appears likely that actual 
tests will, before long, be attempted with an 
aeroplane thus equipped. 

For military work, a variable-speed machine 
promises to be exceptionally useful. The high speed 
would be employed in weathering a gusty wind, or 
in moving rapidly to any desired locality, when about 
to carry out a reconnaissance. Then, when a detailed 
observation was being made, the slowest speed would 
be adopted, so as to give the observer plenty of 
opportunity of studying what lay below him. 

The production of a practical machine, 
embodying the principle of variable speeds, is now held to 
be merely a question of time, and of careful 
experiment. Therefore, the promise of the immediate 
future, particularly as regards the military aspect of 
flying, is most hopeful—both from the point of view 
of wind-flying, and of reliability. 

One by one, indeed, the objections against the 
military aeroplane are likely to be overcome, until a 
machine is an accomplished fact which will meet all 
practical requirements. 

IV. Power-plant of aeroplanes—Fitting two engines to obviate involuntary descents. 
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While writing of aeroplane development, mention 
should certainly be made of engines. It has been 
shown, already, what a wonderful step forward 
was made with the introduction of the revolving 
"Gnome." This engine will operate with the 
reliability of that fitted to a motor-car; there are 
other types of engine now achieving thoroughly good 
results; and they promise to do better in the future. 
From the point of view of propulsion, therefore, the 
future of the aeroplane appears assured. 

One great objection of sceptics, in regard to the 
power-plant of aeroplanes, has been that, should 
an engine fail, a machine is compelled to make an 
involuntary descent. In answer to this criticism, 
advocates of the aeroplane have pointed out that 
motors are becoming more and more reliable, and that 
such stoppages are already reduced to a minimum. 

It is now seen that it will be possible to prevent 
involuntary descent, when flying across country, 
by equipping aeroplanes with a reserve 
powerplant. 

One of the most interesting experiments, in this 
regard, is being carried out by Mr Horace Short, 
the aeronautical engineer of the Royal Aero Club. 

Mr Short produced, in September, 1911, a biplane 
fitted with two "Gnome" engines. One, placed in 
front of the machine, operated a couple of tractor 
propellers fitted before the main-planes. The other, 
installed at the rear, actuated a single propeller. 
The machine was designed so that one engine would 
drive it at a speed of about thirty-six miles an hour; 
while, if both were employed, its pace would increase 
to more than fifty miles an hour. In actual tests, 
most encouraging results were obtained with this 
machine, and Mr Short is now perfecting this type of 
twin-engine biplane. 

By equipping an aeroplane with two engines, 
working independently of each other, the danger of 
an involuntary descent, on bad ground, is obviated. 

Should one engine stop, the pilot can keep himself 
in the air with the other. 

In such a machine as this, which might be 
described as a "safety" aeroplane, the weight of the 
additional engine is, of course, a consideration, but 
in cases where exceptional reliability is 
required—say, for example, when a most urgent dispatch has 
to be taken across country from point to point in 
military operations—a dual-engine machine will 
probably be used. 

Consideration of such facts as have been cited in 
this section show that aeroplanes, for military work, 
have an almost unlimited field for improvement. 
Therefore, any nation which neglects war machines 
now, on the argument that they are unreliable, is 
pursuing an extremely foolish policy. If feats such 
as have been recently accomplished are possible, with 
machines built with wood, wire, and canvas, what will 
not be achieved with the stronger, speedier, heavier 
aeroplanes, such as are already being constructed? 

Sceptics there are, of course, who may be found 
ready to say that the aeroplane will never be made 
reliable; but their contentions are being proved to 
be wrong from day to day. Already, with the 
simplest possible apparatus, a remarkable stage of 
efficiency has been reached. And now the aeroplane 
promises to embark upon a new era of construction. 

Wood is being replaced by metal; and extreme 
lightness is no longer the insistent demand. 
Aeroplanes are being built for general, everyday 
use. 

From the military point of view, the aeroplanes 
at present available have drawbacks. There is, 
indeed, room for vast improvement. Greater strength, 
greater reliability, greater portability—these are the 
aims that makers have in view; and they will, without 
doubt, be realised. 

The War Office tests this summer will teach 
manufacturers many a useful lesson. 

TENTH SECTION THE TRAINING OF ARMY AIRMEN 
-----------------------------------------

\I. French thoroughness—An expert's tribute—Sound training all-important. 
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It is now possible to deal with one of the most 
important considerations in connection with military 
aeroplaning. This concerns the training of pilots and 
observers at the military flying schools. 

France is devoting herself energetically to this 
work. Germany, now equally "keen" upon military 
aviation, is establishing schools in all suitable places. 
Russia is convinced that the right policy is to create 
a large and efficient corps of airmen. So is Austria, 
Japan, as representing earnest progress, is not only 
training men at home, but is sending a large number 
of officers to the various schools in Europe. 

As has been set forth before, in another 
connection, but should be emphasised again here, the true 
policy as regards military flying, in the present stage 
of development, should be: "Test all new machines 
that are introduced; maintain a fleet sufficient to meet 
any emergency which may arise; and, above all, 
train men with the object of acquiring a far stronger 
corps of pilots and observers than any present 
situation demands." 

.. figure:: images/Image11.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: MAPS FOR MILITARY AIRMEN.
   
   MAPS FOR MILITARY AIRMEN.
   Photo, M. Roe.
   The French authorities are busy with the preparation of a complete set of "air maps" for the use of the military pilots, when flying from point to point. A section of one of these maps—which are coloured—is illustrated above.

Here, at any rate, is the clear-cut policy both of 
France and Germany—a policy which Russia is 
beginning to imitate, and a policy, also, that Japan 
is following.

Having toured France quite recently, an expert 
thus describes the activities at the French flying 
schools. "Those who are not directly in touch 
with the various Government departments cannot 
estimate how many airmen there are at work. 
Flying schools seem to be springing up everywhere. 
Depots are being established all over the country. 
Officers are flying from place to place every day. To 
see a military machine, carrying a pilot and observer,
passing swiftly overhead, is now quite a common 
sight. Orders are being received almost daily at 
the military camps, instructing a machine to set forth 
upon a reconnoitring flight, or to carry a dispatch 
from one camp to another. 

"It is the thoroughness, and the business-like way 
in which this work is done, that are so impressive. An 
order for a reconnoitring flight is received. Promptly 
the officer and his observer prepare themselves. The 
aeroplane, properly tuned up, is all ready, and is 
quickly wheeled from its shed. They mount to their 
places, and are away. 

"Directly afterwards, perhaps, another machine is 
ordered out. In the early days of flying, one was 
prepared for a delay of several hours when an 
airman set out upon anything like a long flight. His 
engine had to be tuned up with laborious care; there 
were a hundred and one details that had been 
forgotten, and had to be put right after the machine had 
been brought out of its shed. Now, contrast this 
wearisome delay with the promptitude of the French 
officer-airmen. There is no feverish rush and bustle 
at the commencement of a flight. The propeller is 
turned; the motor fires at once; and the machine 
takes the air. 

"This, of course, is the direct fruit of training. 
This familiarity with machines, and with the routine 
of flying, is the reward which France is already 
gaining for her devotion to military aviation, and her 
unsparing efforts to make her service thoroughly 
efficient. 

"The way in which the aeroplanes are kept in 
trim, and the cool, alert manner in which they are 
handled, come as revelations to a man who has 
only seen the machinery of flight as it is in operation 
at an ordinary flying school. Particularly is one 
impressed by the skill, and good organisation, among 
the engineer-mechanics at the military stations. 

"The use of the aeroplane, for purposes of war, 
necessitates a vast amount of training for every unit 
engaged in the aerial work, and, without such training, 
nothing in the nature of real success can be attained." 

This tribute provides an indication of the 
practicability of the military training now proceeding 
in France. Efficiency is, indeed, the constant 
watchword. Operating with a war weapon that is 
new and strange, the French military authorities 
have already worked wonders; and their success is 
due to the organisation they have been able to 
introduce at their flying schools. 

Very carefully considered, in every way, is the 
course of instruction through which an officer-airman 
is called upon to pass. The aim is to make him 
proficient in every respect. For military purposes, 
it is not sufficient for an officer to be, say, a fine 
"fancy" flyer, and ignorant in regard to engines, or 
a skilled engineer and an indifferent pilot. He must 
be a thoroughly all-round man. 

II. How the military airman is "schooled"—His course of instruction described. 
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

The novice who comes to the French military 
schools is given a course of general tuition. He is 
first brought to study flying in its broad 
aspect, and not as regards detail. This period of 
general "schooling" may last for two or three 
months, during which the beginner makes it his 
business to study aeroplanes, and their motors, very 
carefully. He acquaints himself, for example, with 
the method of control employed in the various 
machines. 

Then, as regards motors, he has much to occupy 
him. He will take an interesting engine like 
the "Gnome," for instance, and make himself 
thoroughly conversant with all its details. The 
value of such preliminary work is often shown 
subsequently when, perhaps, an officer may be stranded 
some distance from Headquarters with a jibbing 
engine. 

Instead of being helpless in such circumstances, 
his previous period of tuition stands him in good 
stead, and he is able to run over his motor with an 
expert eye, and so discover the little defect which 
may be causing all the trouble. 

Apart from the "Gnome," there are other makes 
of engine in the aviation school to which the pupil 
may direct his attention, with good results. Thus 
the novice acquires a general knowledge regarding 
aeroplanes and their motive power, and prepares 
himself for the second stage of his tuition. 

This resolves itself into a series of flights, which 
end in his taking control of an aeroplane himself. 
But, first of all, he takes his place in the 
passenger-seat of a military machine, and is piloted round the 
aerodrome by an officer-instructor of proved skill. 
For his first few flights, the beginner merely sits in 
the machine, and accustoms himself to the novel 
experience of being in an aeroplane. 

This first acquaintance with flight generally proves 
confusing. The engine of an aeroplane makes a 
din which is trying to the novice. Then the pace 
of the machine, when it moves across the ground, 
and the rapidity with which it soars in flight, are 
confusing, also. 

It is, therefore, a sound policy to allow a beginner 
to make several trips with an experienced officer, 
before he attempts to control a machine himself. 
By so doing, the pupil has an opportunity of getting 
over his first bewilderment, and contrives to be in a 
fairly cool and collected frame of mind when his turn 
comes to assume control of the levers. 

After several trial journeys have been made, and 
the novice is no longer embarrassed by the 
strangeness of his position, he is allowed, by his instructor, 
to exercise temporary command over the aeroplane 
while it is in flight. This is accomplished by means 
of a dual control; a set of levers are before the pilot, 
and another in front of the pupil. 

The former, after warning his charge to be ready, 
relinquishes his hold upon the levers, and the pupil 
takes charge of the machine. The instructor, of 
course, keeps a keen eye upon the behaviour of the 
machine; should the pupil make an error, the pilot 
is able to rectify it before there is any chance of an 
accident. 

By this admirably practical system, a pupil can be 
led to a satisfactory state of proficiency without risk, 
either to himself or to his instructor. After he has 
controlled the machine, for a spell, during straight 
flights, he is given the opportunity of making a turn 
in the air. 

This operation requires the exercise of skill and 
judgment. Apart from moving the rudder, or 
rudders, which send the machine round, the pilot needs 
to operate his "ailerons," or wing-warping device, 
as the case may be, in order to "bank" the machine 
over, and so facilitate the turning movement. 

As soon as he shows sufficient skill in controlling 
an aeroplane, while with a pilot, the pupil is given 
an opportunity of flying by himself. As a rule, his 
previous tuition has been so valuable to him that he 
finds little difficulty in performing a solo flight, and 
so prepares himself for the obtaining of his 
certificate from the French Aero Club. 

This certificate of proficiency is obtained by 
making a series of flights before official observers, 
and in maintaining a certain altitude, while so doing. 
A descent has also to be made with the engine of the 
machine stopped, so as to demonstrate the pilot's 
ability to effect a *vol plané*. 

In the case of a civilian airman, the passing of this 
test is considered sufficient evidence of his ability 
to control a machine; but, as regards French 
military airmen, a greater degree of proficiency 
is required. Therefore, when he has acquired his 
Aero Club certificate, the officer-airman has to 
prepare himself for another ordeal. 

The French military authorities demand that he 
should make a long flight across country, that he 
should remain in the air for a couple of hours 
without descending, and that he should demonstrate his 
capabilities by piloting his machine in a fairly-high 
wind. 

After this, he is regarded as a man well qualified 
to study the actual work to be undertaken by an 
airman in war-time. The next stage, as a matter 
of fact, is in learning to observe over a given tract 
of country. 

In this test of his skill, a superior officer indicates 
for him an aerial route, which covers a fairly-wide 
district in the vicinity of the air-station. The pupil 
flies over this, and, on his return, presents a report 
upon what he has seen while in the air. 

This report—which deals with roads, railways, 
and the general characteristics of the country—is 
examined by his chief, who points out in whatever 
way it might have been improved, probably in the 
direction of military precision, or in the statement 
of more detail. Then the pupil flies over the same, 
or another route, on another day; and so on. 

No pains are spared to make him acquainted with 
his work. It is an axiom, at the French schools, 
that a pilot should be so accustomed to flying that 
the actual manipulation of his machine becomes 
mechanical. When such skill is attained, the airman 
is free to devote his mind to whatever work is on 
hand; but such a state of proficiency can only be 
acquired in one way—and that is by constant 
flying. 

After he has become accustomed to observing 
from his machine while it is in flight, the pupil is 
set a variety of other tasks, at the discretion of his 
instructors. He is, for example, detailed to fly 
across country from point to point, bearing a 
message, and to return with another dispatch. 
Cross-country journeys, from one flying school to 
another, are also encouraged. 

In this way, by actual practice in the manipulation 
of his machine, and in the carrying out of tasks such 
as he would be set in time of war, the pupil gains 
skill and confidence, and eventually becomes a 
thoroughly well-trained and proficient member of the 
air-corps. 

III. Rules for training—Dummy aeroplanes—A pupil's first "hops."
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` 

Some admirable hints, as to the methods which 
should be adopted in teaching airmen, have been 
given by foreign military experts. 

An officer of great experience, for instance, 
declares it essential that the pupil should first devote 
himself to a theoretical and practical apprenticeship 
in regard to aeroplane motors. He should, he also 
declares, be called upon to detect the reason for any 
stoppages intentionally caused by the instructor. 

This officer also advocates the driving of 
motor-cars, at high speed, as a useful preliminary stage for 
intending military airmen, holding that such rapid 
driving gives a man a judgment of pace and distance 
which he would not otherwise possess. 

It is contended, also, by other authorities, that 
ascents in free balloons are of value, as a preliminary 
to actual aeroplaning. Such ascents, in the opinion 
of these experts, help a man to gauge heights, and 
so prove of value to him in subsequent tests with 
aeroplanes. 

While doing a brief course of ballooning, the 
officer can, it is pointed out, study the contour of 
the ground below him, and can also make himself 
acquainted, to a certain extent, with the use of 
maps and compasses. He may also practise aerial 
photography. 

What other practical authorities have found of 
value, and what they recommend as a stage in the 
tuition of an officer-airman, is a day or so during 
which a pupil takes the driving-seat of a military 
machine, and practises—on the ground—the 
manipulations which he would have to make were the 
aeroplane in actual flight. 

When the novice is thus in the driving-seat, it is 
suggested that an instructor should put him through 
a regular lesson—asking him, for instance, what 
manipulations of his levers would be necessary to 
effect a turning movement. 

Such a plan is, undoubtedly, of value. 
Preliminary work of this kind, conducted by a pupil 
while on the ground, in order to accustom him to 
the handling of a machine, before actually taking 
the air, is encouraged at many civilian schools; and, 
to facilitate such practice, several ingenious machines 
have been devised. In one of them, the pupil sits 
in a wooden framework, which is balanced on a pivot, 
and is equipped with a forward elevating plane, and 
"ailerons." 

When the beginner is ready for a spell of practice, 
the machine is turned, so that it faces the wind. 
Then the pupil takes his seat, and grips his levers. 
The balance of the machine is such that any 
gust has a tendency to make it tilt over from side 
to side, or tip forwards or backwards. If he is 
quick enough, the pupil can check these overturning 
influences by movements of the controlling planes. 
Thus he obtains, without risk to himself, or the 
danger of damaging an aeroplane, an insight into 
the general principles of control. 

Also emphasised by many experts, is the value of 
a stage in military training which has already been 
described—that in which a pupil is taken, for a series 
of passenger flights, by an expert airman. During 
these flights, of course, the novice is learning many 
practical lessons. 

Other authorities advocate, as a definite stage in 
a pupil's course of training, an exercise which has 
not previously been touched upon. This entails 
arranging a machine so that it will move along the 
ground at a high speed, but will not ascend. The 
beginner should be allowed to manipulate such a 
machine for a day or so, running it up and down the 
aerodrome. Such a period of "rolling," as it has 
come to be termed at the flying schools, should be 
sandwiched between the pupil's flights as a 
passenger, and his first attempt at solo work. 

The first of these "rolling" tests should, it is 
held, be undertaken with an instructor. When he 
can control a machine perfectly well on the ground, 
the novice has learned a very useful lesson. In 
this "rolling" work, he becomes accustomed, also, 
to operating his engine controls, and shakes off the 
confusion that the noise of the motor so frequently 
occasions. 

The pupil's first solo flights should be nothing 
more than short jumps off the ground, made while 
moving along in a straight line. At the flying 
schools, these attempts at flight, on the part of 
novices, are described as "hops"; and, when 
performing them, the beginner resembles a young bird 
which is first trying its wings. He flutters into the 
air for a yard or so, and then descends again—not 
always elegantly. 

"Hopping" practice, if systematically carried out, 
obviates the breaking-up of many a machine, 
because it teaches the pupil how to make a descent. 
Landing is, it may be pointed out, the chief difficulty 
for the beginner. He can usually get into the air 
all right—sometimes, more quickly than he desires. 
The problem is how to return to earth again, making 
a correct descent. 

When a man learns to ride a bicycle, the inevitable 
tendency, which he displays, is to overdo the 
balancing movements. The result is that he swerves 
abruptly from side to side, and frequently comes to 
grief. The same mistake is, to a great extent, made 
by the novice in flying. He jerks his machine off 
the ground with an over-abrupt operation of his 
elevating plane, and he sometimes descends with a 
disconcerting dive. 

It is not until he has been practising for some 
little time, that a pupil obtains what has been 
described as the "feel" of his machine. What 
happens, really, is that he suddenly obtains a 
sensitive touch upon his controlling levers; and 
then, instead of obeying his instructor without 
appreciating exactly what he has been doing, he 
begins to act for himself—with the commencement 
of that feeling of sureness which reveals the expert. 

From "hops," according to expert ruling, the 
military pupil should proceed to straight flights of 
gradually increasing length. This recommendation 
presupposes the possession of an aerodrome of ample 
size. Nothing is, as a matter of fact, more 
important than a commodious aerodrome for purposes of 
instruction. 

The selection of a ground which is cramped, or in 
a bad position, is very poor policy. Unless he has 
plenty of manoeuvring space, a pupil acquires a 
feeling of nervousness, which is sometimes 
disastrous. Under the influence of it, when he first 
assumes sole control of a machine, he is occasionally 
induced to make mistakes which result in the 
wrecking of machines. 

A wide, flat, perfectly-unobstructed space is the 
ideal. When he brings his machine out upon such 
an aerodrome, the novice is inspired with a 
confidence which is half the battle. He feels he has 
not got to do things in a hurry; he knows there 
is plenty of room. 

As soon as straight flights can be accomplished, 
the pupil should, it is held, be set the task of 
learning to "bank" his machine over, and make circles. 
The thoroughness of the pupil's tuition, up to this 
point, should stand him in good stead. He knows 
his motor; he knows his machine; he is familiar 
with his controls; he is not flustered when he is in 
the air. 

All such points count enormously—added to the 
fact that we assume the aerodrome he is practising 
over is a good one. In such cases, the pupil should 
be able to make wide turns in the air without any 
trouble at all. 

Afterwards, the budding airman should learn to 
fly high. "Climbing" is what experienced airmen 
call it. Here, again, the requisite for success is a 
pupil's confidence in himself, and in his 
machine—is inspired by the stages through which he has 
previously passed. 

As has been quite rightly stated, the airman's 
need, before he attempts anything in the nature of 
high flying, is to feel perfectly at home on his 
machine. He must have no anxiety as to any 
possible mistake in his controlling movements; he 
must not be worrying about his engine. In a word, 
he must have a perfectly-undisturbed mind. 

This mental state is brought about, of course, 
by feeling perfectly competent to deal with any 
emergency, should it arise. By the time he 
has reached the high-flying stage, any pupil 
should—if he has been thoroughly trained—begin 
to experience a feeling of "one-ness" with his 
machine. 

IV. Cross-country flights—The *vol plané*—Difficulty of first observation tests from an aeroplane. 
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"Only when it is possible to control a machine 
with safety, and without anxiety, at a height of 600 
feet, should the military airman attempt to fly across 
country." 

This declaration, made by an acknowledged 
authority, is a perfectly sound one; and, so far as 
the military flying schools are concerned, it 
represents a rule now almost generally adopted. 

A most necessary step, before setting forth on a 
cross-country flight, is to master the art of effecting 
a safe and steady *vol plané*. The airman, when he 
is on a cross-country journey, must be ready at any 
moment for his engine to miss-fire, and perhaps stop. 
With the reliable motors now obtainable, this is not 
likely to happen, as has been shown; but engine 
failure is still a contingency for which the pilot must 
be prepared. 

We will suppose, for the sake of argument, that 
a military airman is flying at an altitude of 1000
feet, across an average country. Suddenly, with 
a splutter, his engine ceases to work. If he is 
dexterous, he is not nonplussed. With a 
movement of his elevating plane, he tilts the aeroplane 
upon a downward glide, and comes sweeping towards 
the ground. Experience tells him just what is a 
safe gliding angle; he does not pitch his machine 
too far forward, nor does he make his angle so fine 
that there is any chance of the aeroplane losing way, 
and so becoming unmanageable. 

As he glides down in this fashion, with perfect 
control over his machine, although it has been 
deprived of motive power, he looks about keenly to 
select a suitable landing-place. He is not forced to 
keep gliding straight ahead. He can, if he elects, 
turn either to right or left; and it is possible to 
make a half-circle in the air, while gliding down, and 
so land upon some spot which lay beneath the 
machine at the moment the engine stopped. 

Therefore, granted that fairly-normal country lies 
below, the airman should have plenty of time, from 
an altitude of 1000 feet, to select a landing-place, 
and make a fair descent upon it. 

If a pilot knows, thoroughly well, the kind of 
country he is flying over, and no difficulty presents 
itself in finding a landing-place, he can fly 
comparatively low, if he prefers to do so. By this is meant 
an altitude of perhaps five or six hundred feet. 

If the country is difficult, however—that is to say, 
if fair landing-places are not easy to find—it behoves 
the airman to attain a considerably greater altitude. 
Over unfavourable country, from the landing-point 
of view, an experienced pilot will maintain a 
height of 2000 feet, or more. He does this 
because, should his engine fail him, he will have 
plenty of time to pick out—from a considerable 
area of country around him—some fairly-suitable 
descending-point. 

In the flying contests held last summer, the most 
expert pilots, such as Beaumont and Vedrines, flew 
across country at an altitude of about 3000 feet. 
What influenced them, in doing so, was the 
knowledge that any wind that is blowing is generally most 
steady at such altitudes. 

Once he is able to fly across country, without 
worrying at all about the control of his machine, the 
military airman is ready to take up the practical tasks 
which await him. One of the most interesting 
experiments, which he will be asked to carry out, is to 
fly over bodies of troops on the march, and test his 
powers of observation. It is one thing, of course, 
to see troops below him, and another to render an 
accurate report as to their strength and formation. 

One of the most expert of French military airmen 
describes, very interestingly, how a reconnoitring 
officer seeks to render accurate his observations of 
troops; and his remarks go to prove, very 
distinctly, that nothing but unremitting practice will 
create a reliable air-scout—a contention which is 
made by all experts upon this subject. 

The strength of columns on the march—when 
seen from the bird's-eye view of an 
aeroplane—should, says this officer, be estimated by comparison, 
on the airman's map, with the length of the road 
along which they are marching. 

Massed formations of troops should, he adds, be 
determined according to the open spaces separating 
the various units. From the airman's point of view, 
other clues to the strength of an enemy are the 
number of waggons, the number of mounted officers 
(in the case of infantry), and so forth. 

It will be seen that, although the elevation of an 
aeroplane gives the observer a unique advantage, 
reconnoitring from an altitude of, say, 3000 feet is 
by no means easy work; the point of view is strange, 
and new rules have to be made, if reliable 
information is to be forthcoming. 

With adequate practice, of course, an observer 
becomes remarkably quick in estimating the import 
of what he sees below him. Details, which would 
mean nothing to the novice, frequently tell him the 
whole story. 

Thus a novice becomes, in time, a 
thoroughly-expert airman, capable of carrying out, satisfactorily, 
all the tasks that are set him. To encourage military 
pilots at their work, the French authorities have very 
wisely instituted a special scale of pay—or, rather, 
an arrangement of bonuses—for flights effected. 

Naturally, such practical encouragement is greatly 
appreciated by the officers who take part in the air 
service. The work is arduous, beyond all question, 
and the men who are engaged upon it now are 
pioneers. All that they discover, through dint of 
enthusiastic and self-sacrificing work, is to the benefit 
of those who follow in their footsteps. Therefore, 
they richly deserve all the practical aid that can be 
given them. 

\V. Finishing work at French schools—Practical tests—German thoroughness—Energy of English officers. 
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Having described the instructional work at the 
French flying schools, it may be interesting to show 
how practical tests are carried out—almost every 
day—to prepare the officer-airmen for the duties 
which they will be called upon to perform, in time 
of war. 

As has been mentioned, the French authorities 
have now organised flying schools, and air-depots, in 
many parts of the country; and, when any general 
movements of troops is being made, the officer in 
charge of the nearest aviation centre is frequently 
ordered, by a message from Headquarters, to carry 
out some special aerial manœuvre. 

.. figure:: images/Image12.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: THE PILOT'S SEAT.
   
   THE PILOT'S SEAT.
   Photo, M. Branger.
   In the illustration above is seen the driving seat of a military-type Blériot monoplane, with the airman's map, in its case, fixed immediately before him.

One example of this excellent system is sufficient. 
Not long ago, a fairly large body of troops was 
manoeuvring between Rheims and Chalons. Seeing 
an opportunity for a practical test of aeroplane 
efficiency, one of the Generals engaged in the operation 
sent a message to the officer in charge of the 
air-depot at Chalons, requesting the services of four 
airmen, without delay. 

The summons was quite unexpected, as it was 
intended to be; but the military school was not 
unprepared. Within a few minutes of the receipt of 
his instructions, the officer commanding the 
aeroplanes had detailed four lieutenants for service. 
Their machines were made ready, by the mechanics, 
with practically no delay at all; and, in less than half 
an hour, the officers were in the air, and on their way 
to the point where they had been instructed to report 
themselves. 

They arrived at the appointed place without 
hitch or delay, and immediately received orders to 
reconnoitre specified tracts of country. They were 
quickly in the air again; and each of the four 
air-scouts was able to carry out his task with complete 
success. 

Returning to their starting-point, the four pilots 
duly presented their reports, made out according to 
the system in vogue. They were then informed that 
their work was, for the time being, at an end. 
Whereupon all four took their seats in their machines 
again, and flew back to the aviation camp. 

The point to be emphasised, in this connection, is 
that the manœuvre was carried out by four scouts. 
Had one, or even two, performed these flights, it 
would not have been so noteworthy. But the fact 
that four machines could make a series of test flights, 
without prearrangement, and yet without mechanical 
breakdown of any kind, provides a convincing 
tribute to the reliability of a well-built military 
machine. 

When no specific reconnoitring flights are on 
hand, officers from the various French schools are 
frequently instructed to leave Headquarters in the 
early morning, and make as long an aerial tour as 
possible before nightfall, traversing a specified route, 
and returning to their starting-point. 

Such tests as these, of course, demonstrate the 
reliability of aeroplanes and engines, and also the 
skill and endurance of the pilots. 

One officer, for example, started away early in the 
morning, and succeeded in flying for a distance of 
250 miles between St Omer and the Belgian frontier. 
A military observer accompanied him; and brief 
reports, describing the country surveyed, were sent 
back by means of carrier pigeons. 

This flight—typical of many now being 
performed—occupied practically the whole day. Descents 
were made, occasionally, to replenish petrol and oil 
tanks, the aeroplane being followed, on its 
pilgrimage, by motor-cars laden with fuel and spare parts. 

Motor-car gangs, equipped with all material likely 
to be necessary in connection with a breakdown, are 
now in readiness at the French air-stations; and 
they will play a highly-important part when 
aeroplanes are employed upon active service. 

Mention has been made of the thoroughness of the 
German War Office in regard to military flying 
schools; and, while citing practical instances, it may 
be interesting to extract an item from the German 
general programme. 

In one batch, during the summer of 1911, 
seventeen officers were selected to undergo a special flying 
course at Doeberitz. These courses lasted a 
specified number of months, and the officers were drafted 
from one class to another according to their state of 
proficiency. 

The adequacy of the training, given to the German 
officer-airman, is revealed in the practice flights which 
are attempted, immediately the pilots have obtained 
full control over their machines. Here, for example, 
is a typical reconnoitring trip. Two young airmen 
left the Doeberitz aerodrome, and flew over a 
distance of 400 miles, weathering two severe storms 
while upon their aerial journey. 

The machine they employed was a military-type, 
weight-carrying biplane, and they took it in turns to 
steer. Their tour lasted several days; and, in one 
flight, extending over three and a half hours, they 
traversed a distance of 149 miles. Motor-cars, 
bearing spare parts, kept in touch with the airmen; the 
whole undertaking was admirably organised, from 
the military point of view. 

It is in work like this, of course, that definite 
progress is made. In connection with such long 
reconnoitring tours, a German officer of experience 
has placed upon record the view: "However good 
you may imagine your organisation to be, a practical 
test will generally reveal at least one or two false links 
in the chain; and, of flying, this is truer than of 
anything else. Once an air-corps is proficient, actual 
war conditions should be represented as frequently 
as possible. This will polish up the entire system, 
and make each unit sure of its work. Unless 
reconnoitring tests, carried out on a practical war basis, 
are frequently made, it is idle to assume that your 
corps is ready to do any valuable work during a 
campaign." 

There is no need, at any rate, to impress the 
wisdom of this observation upon the French military 
authorities. Whenever a long reconnoitring flight is 
accomplished, from one of the flying schools, the 
officer who is acting as observer is instructed to send 
a concise service telegram to Headquarters, 
describing the journey that has been made. 

It may be interesting to reproduce the text of 
such a message, in order to show the business-like 
way in which the French air-work is carried out. 
This was a telegram, for example, received in Paris 
in connection with a typical practice flight:—

    "Lieut, in command aeroplane 11 to War Office. 
    Lieuts. Cammerman pilot. Vullieume observation 
    officer. Left Mezieres 7.10 a.m. Passed over 
    Vervins, Guise, St Quentin, landed north of 
    Amiens at 9.55 a.m. to inquire direction 
    aerodrome. Landed aerodrome 10.30 a.m. Voyage 
    difficult owing mist, which frequently obscured 
    ground. No incident." 

Messages, such as this, are now being dispatched 
and received daily, in connection with the flights 
organised at the French flying schools. The 
dispatching of such telegrams is, of course, only a detail of 
the general work; but it is one of those items, 
nevertheless, which needs practice to make perfect. 

In the arrangement of non-stop flying tests, the 
officers in charge of the French schools leave no 
stone unturned to promote the efficiency of their 
pupils. As a contrast to long tours, lasting several 
days, continuous flights, involving a return to the 
aerodrome before descending, teach an airman 
useful lessons. 

Three instances of such non-stop flights, selected 
more or less haphazard from the reports received, 
from day to day, in connection with French military 
aviation, are sufficient to indicate what excellent work 
is being done. They are appended:—

"A lieutenant flies with an observer, without 
descending, over a prearranged course of 100
miles. The flight lasts two and a half hours. 

"A lieutenant, carrying a special observation 
officer, remains in the air for three hours fifteen 
minutes. 

"A lieutenant, taking up a captain as observer, 
flies for 125 miles, non-stop." 

It is by means of flights such as these, carried out 
regularly, and without ostentation, that the French 
air-corps obtains the efficiency which is the 
admiration of those who are in a position to realise what 
complete organisation means. 

As regards England, it should be mentioned that 
the few officer-airmen who have, so far, been 
permitted by the authorities to study military flying, 
have done their utmost to perfect themselves in the 
art. They are making experimental flights, 
whenever possible, and are becoming thoroughly 
competent. 

They have proved indeed, beyond question, that 
England has the right material. All that is wanted, 
as has been pointed out again and again, is practical 
encouragement. As a matter of fact, both in "dash" 
and judgment when flying, British pilots have shown 
that they need fear no foreign competition. 

The cool nerve which is possessed by the English 
officer-airman was revealed, in a most striking 
way, by an experience, while flying, which befell 
Lieutenants Reynolds and Barrington-Kennett—two 
of the most ardent officers of our Air Battalion. 

The adventure occurred while the two airmen were 
reconnoitring in Cambridgeshire during the autumn 
of 1911; and it possesses a unique interest, inasmuch 
as it affords an example of the most remarkable 
escape from death yet chronicled in connection with 
the aeroplane. 

The two pilots, flying separate machines, were 
reconnoitring from a temporary aviation camp during 
the evening, and were passing across country at an 
altitude of a little less than 2000 feet. The weather 
was oppressive—a thunderstorm threatening. 

Suddenly a violent wind, the forerunner of the 
storm, began to sweep across country. So powerful 
was this wind that it tore roofs off sheds. Lieutenant 
Barrington-Kennett, flying a little lower than 
Lieutenant Reynolds, felt the force of the wind 
first; his biplane tossed and rolled ominously. 

Pointing his machine earthwards, and keeping his 
engine running at its full power, he began to descend 
as rapidly as possible. But the wind increased in 
violence, to a remarkable extent. The biplane 
gave a sudden leap into the air. Then it dropped 
sheer for many feet. The airman was flung upwards 
from his driving-seat, and came into abrupt contact 
with the lower part of his upper main-plane. Then 
he was jerked back again, coming down half in, and 
half out of his seat, and smashing the side of it. 
Fortunately, however, he was able to grip the lever 
actuating the elevating-plane and "ailerons," and so 
maintained control of his machine until he made a 
hurried landing in a field. 

Lieutenant Reynolds had an experience far more 
alarming. Apart from the fact that he was 
flying higher than his companion, the machine he 
was piloting was a military biplane fitted with 
weight-carrying extensions, which made it more 
difficult than an ordinary machine to control in a 
wind. 

When the first gusts struck him. Lieutenant 
Reynolds sought to follow the other pilot's example, 
and make a descent. He had actually come down 
from 2000 feet to about 1500 feet, when a sudden and 
overwhelmingly powerful rush of wind caught the 
biplane, and turned it completely upside-down. 

As the machine swung helplessly over, entirely 
beyond its pilot's control, Lieutenant Reynolds had 
the presence of mind to switch off his engine. This 
probably prevented the biplane from rushing 
pell-mell to destruction. The next thing that the young 
airman remembers was clinging desperately to the 
edge of the lower main-plane, having been swung 
abruptly out of his driving-seat—which was now 
above his head. 

Upside-down, and beyond any possibility of 
control, the aeroplane began to fall to the ground, which 
was more than 1000 feet below. It would appear 
that nothing but a miracle could save an airman 
under such circumstances as these; and Lieutenant 
Reynolds, certainly, regarded his chances as being 
slender. 

But, extraordinary as it may seem, the extent of 
his injuries, in this 1000-feet fall, were a sprained 
ankle and a general shock; and this is how the 
miracle happened. The big biplane, being very 
lightly laden, did not fall sheer to the ground, but 
came fluttering down like a box-kite. At first, after 
overturning, it dived a short distance, tail-first; then 
it came to a halt, and floated down for a second or 
so, following up this manœuvre by a forward dive, 
and another period of floating. 

Lieutenant Reynolds continued to cling grimly to 
the lower plane; and the machine came down in a 
field, still upside-down, and with its running wheels 
thrust up in the air. At the actual moment of 
striking the ground, the aeroplane was fluttering, and not 
diving. This was fortunate for the pilot, as the 
biplane came in contact with the earth without any 
great violence.

Many a man's nerve would have been shattered 
by such an experience, but this was not the case with 
Lieutenant Reynolds. He was soon flying again, as 
though nothing had happened. There is, therefore, 
reason for stating that England has the right material 
among her few military airmen. 

ELEVENTH SECTION THE COST OF WAR AEROPLANES 
-------------------------------------------

\I. Why manufacturers charge high prices—Cost of experimental work—Building of trial machines. 
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

A decidedly interesting question is that of the 
cost of aeroplanes. It represents a consideration, 
also, which is of practical importance from the 
military point of view. 

So far, the price of any aeroplane of a well-known 
make has been high. An ordinary-type biplane, for 
example, fitted with a "Gnome" engine, has been 
selling for approximately £1000. A monoplane of 
established repute, built to carry a pilot alone, has 
been listed at £900. 

A military-type biplane, capable of carrying three 
men, has been selling at something like £1200, and 
a reconnoitring monoplane, for two occupants, has 
been priced at a figure in excess of£1000. There 
has, as a matter of fact, been good reason for 
manufacturers to demand high prices for their 
machines. 

The expenses of a builder of aeroplanes are 
extremely heavy. His business is not at all like 
any ordinary commercial undertaking. He does not 
merely build a machine, and then sell it. He has 
costly researches to undertake, and wearisome and 
expensive experimental work to carry out. 

Let us take a typical example. A prominent 
manufacturer in France designed a monoplane, 
which embodied improvements upon existing 
practice. Having the facilities of a well-equipped 
workshop, he speedily put his ideas to a practical 
test, and commenced the building of a machine. 

This occupied some weeks, during which time, 
of course, the builder had the wages of his 
engineers to pay. Then, when the machine was 
ready for tests, he had to hand it over to his 
professional aviator—another well-paid employee. The 
monoplane was taken to the private flying ground 
which the manufacturer found it necessary to rent; 
and here, for a week or so, first experiments were 
carried out, the wages of the aviator being augmented 
by those of a regular staff of mechanics. 

The result of the trials was that, after securing 
useful data, the monoplane was irretrievably wrecked, 
in landing after a flight. Whereupon, the 
manufacturer had to face the expense of building a second 
machine, embodying further improvements 
suggested—and going through the whole routine again. 

This he did, devoting several weeks of his 
men's time to constructing the new machine. Once 
more, when it was finished, the professional aviator 
took it in hand. This time, after an even shorter 
career than the first machine, the monoplane was 
broken up. Again, however, improvements 
suggested themselves; and so the maker embarked, 
patiently, upon the construction of a third model. 

To cut a long story short, this process of evolution 
went on until six monoplanes had been built, each 
one more reliable in action than its predecessor. It 
was only, in fact, when a seventh machine stood 
ready, that the manufacturer considered he had a 
flying machine he could offer to prospective 
purchasers, as a safe and improved type. 

In fixing the price that he should ask for this new 
model, the manufacturer was guided, naturally, by 
the outlay that had been necessary in perfecting it. 
It would have been unreasonable, under such 
circumstances, for the purchaser to expect to buy the 
machine at a figure which represented a small profit 
for its builder, over and above the actual cost of 
production of that one model. Having spent thousands 
of pounds upon his experiments, the manufacturer 
was obliged to recoup himself, by charging a high 
price for his goods. 

Another factor would also govern price in such 
circumstances as these. The manufacturer would 
have no guarantee as to selling any fixed number of 
machines. In the case of a new motor-car, for 
instance, the machine is standardised; and, if it is a 
good one, a large number are sold. This, naturally, 
reduces the price per machine. 

But, in the case of this new monoplane, even if it 
is the best produced at the moment, the question of 
the number to be sold is an unsatisfactorily vague 
quantity. After only two or three have been 
disposed of, for instance, another machine may be put 
upon the market which is a few miles an hour faster; 
whereupon, the aviators who are intent upon winning 
speed prizes quickly devote their attention to the 
new machine. 

As may be imagined, therefore, what with 
enormously-heavy first costs, and a doubtful sale even 
when a good machine is produced, the manufacturer 
of aeroplanes has no alternative but to charge a 
high price for the machines he does succeed in 
disposing of. 

Let us consider, for a moment, the experience of 
such a famous manufacturer as M. Louis Blériot. 
It was in 1906 that he began experimenting with 
monoplanes, entirety at his own expense; and he was 
spending money lavishly on new machines, and 
devoting a vast amount of time to the problem, until 
the summer of 1909. Apart from the money he 
spent, and the aircraft he broke up, he risked his 
life, on many occasions, in attempting to fly on 
machines which were entirely experimental. 

It was estimated, indeed, that—before this famous 
airman and constructer flew the Channel, in July, 
1909—he had expended a fortune upon aerial 
research work. It was perfectly legitimate, therefore, 
that he should endeavour to recoup himself, for all 
his time and expense, when a sale did spring up for 
his machines. 

It has not been a case, since then, of 
producing machines of a standard type. Directly he had 
perfected the simple, low-powered monoplane upon 
which he crossed from France to England, M. 
Blériot began experimenting with a more powerful 
machine; and so he has been engaged ever since. 

In his works in Paris, for example, M. Blériot 
employs a skilled staff of draughtsmen, who are busy 
every day upon designs for new machines. He 
must keep pace with his rivals, and he must meet 
the growing demands of the military service. Faster 
and more reliable machines are demanded every day, 
and strenuous efforts must be made to fulfil these 
demands. Therefore, the expense of running an 
aeroplane factory is exceptionally high. 

These facts are interesting, as they explain why 
"a few bits of stick and canvas, and an engine," as 
an aeroplane has been described, should cost as much 
as £1000. It is not so much the wood, and the 
canvas, and the engine that the purchaser is paying 
for, as the months, and perhaps years, of patient toil 
and ceaseless expense, which have gone to the 
production of a practical machine. 

High prices are charged for aeroplane engines. 
Here, again, the same causes are at work. Most 
costly are the preliminary expenses connected with 
the production of a new petrol engine. In the case 
of the famous "Gnome," for instance, many thousands 
of pounds were spent upon a series of experimental 
engines, before a reliable model could be obtained. 

II. Economy of a large military order for machines—The incidental expenses. 
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

The idea has been conveyed, by the previous 
notes, that the aeroplane is an expensive machine. 
So it is, at present, so far as the private purchaser 
is concerned—although its champions are already 
prone to point out that a first-class flying machine 
does not cost more than a high-powered, luxurious 
motor-car. 

When the aeroplane is regarded as a weapon of 
war, however, it should not be considered expensive. 
It is, in fact, remarkably cheap, particularly when 
compared with the cost of other forms of 
armament. 

The prices, previously quoted, as representing the 
cost of the best makes of aeroplane, have been for 
individual machines; and this introduces a point 
which is greatly in favour of any War Department, 
when it seeks to equip itself with a number of 
aeroplanes. Through placing orders for a batch of 
machines, instead of buying one here and there, any 
Government should be able materially to reduce the 
price of any make. 

Grant, for the sake of argument, that a country 
decides to provide itself with a fleet of a hundred 
war aeroplanes. The policy, in such a case, would 
be to look round, at the beginning of any flying 
season, and make a selection, say, of the three types 
of machine best suited for the tasks arising in 
military work. 

It would certainly not be wise to buy a hundred 
machines all of one type, although, by so doing, the 
price for each machine could be more reduced than 
in the case of splitting up an order between several 
manufacturers. But such a policy of having "all 
one's eggs in one basket" would not be 
judicious—or fair to the industry as a whole. Government 
policy, in this regard, should be to support as many 
manufacturers as is reasonably possible, and thus 
ensure the industry maintaining a healthy position. 

Orders placed with a number of makers would 
be necessary, in fact. But, even with such a 
distribution as this, a considerable saving of 
expense could be made. Expert estimates have been 
given as to the cost, per machine, of a hundred war 
aeroplanes, all ordered at the same time; and a 
reasonably exact figure places the average price, for 
each machine, at £600. 

This represents a very definite reduction upon the 
price of a single machine; and it also indicates that, 
in the future, when aeroplanes are bought in even 
larger numbers, for war purposes, the cost of each 
machine will become an almost insignificant 
item—insignificant, that is to say, when compared with the 
cost of other forms of armament. When a thousand 
machines can be ordered, and built at one time, for 
example, the cost per machine will be enormously 
reduced. 

There should be no outcry, indeed, as to the cost 
of war aeroplanes. The Admiralty embarks, without 
question, upon the construction of a great battleship, 
although it knows that each huge craft will speedily 
become obsolete. This money is not grudged; it 
is for the defence of the country. 

The same attitude should be taken up as regards 
the creation of a fleet of war aeroplanes. They, too, 
have become essential weapons. 

War aeroplanes are, in their own sphere, quite 
as important as battleships. And the contrast 
between the two weapons, in the matter of price, 
is extraordinary. For the price of one Dreadnought 
it is, indeed, estimated that a fleet of a couple of 
thousand aeroplanes could be created. 

An enthusiastic advocate of the war aeroplane puts 
this matter of cost very forcibly. "It is as nothing," 
he declares. "A vote of a few hundred thousand 
pounds would place the whole air service on a sound 
basis, so far as England is concerned. The net cost 
of each aeroplane, in a squadron, is an absolutely 
insignificant item of expense, when we reckon what 
we are spending, in other ways, on our Army and 
Navy. One aircraft represents only about twice 
the amount spent in making one of the great shells 
fired by our biggest naval guns. It is this 
astonishing cheapness of the aeroplane, having regard to its 
revolutionary work, which is the surprising factor 
of the situation. It will mean, of course, that flying 
machines will be used, eventually, in huge fleets." 

Naturally, the purchase of a hundred machines 
does not represent the total outlay, in connection with 
the establishment of a well-equipped air-corps. An 
organisation must be built up round these machines, 
and there must be men not only to fly them, but to 
keep them in a state of efficiency; and there is the 
need, also, of housing the air-fleet. 

The question of providing sheds for a fleet of 
machines is an important one. Aeroplanes must be 
well housed, or their depreciation is rapid. 
Whatever sheds are provided must, apart from being 
strong and weather-proof, be portable as well. 

Under the same heading, also, should come the 
workshops—some of them portable—necessary to 
cope with repairs and renewals in connection with 
machines. This, too, is an important item, as 
first-class repair work is an essential feature in the 
organisation of any air service. 

An estimate of the money that should be 
expended upon sheds and repair-shops—for a fleet 
of a hundred aeroplanes—places the amount at 
£20,000. Money should not be stinted in this 
direction; good sheds, and efficient repairs, should 
both tell their tale, when the aeroplane is used in 
a campaign. 

.. figure:: images/Image13.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: PILOT AND "OBSERVER."
   
   PILOT AND "OBSERVER."
   Photo, M. Roe.
   The above photograph shows a military-type Breguet biplane, as used in the French manœuvres, with pilot and observer in their places.

Now it is necessary to touch upon the question of 
military flying grounds, and the expense incurred 
in keeping them in proper order; also the sum of 
money necessary to provide a sufficient number of 
motor transport lorries for the air-fleet. As has been 
explained, the plan generally adopted is for an 
aeroplane to be transported from point to point on a 
lorry, and followed by a repair-car. 

In regard to the English trials of war aeroplanes, 
a point is made—in connection with the size of the 
packing-cases for machines—of the possibility of 
transporting aircraft by railway in time of war. 
Undoubtedly, under favourable circumstances, this 
would provide a rapid method of bringing up 
machines from a distance. 

Under the headings of the expenditure upon flying 
grounds, and the provision of motor-lorries to follow 
aeroplanes, and act as transport waggons, a reasonable 
estimate of the sum to be expended—in connection 
with a fleet of a hundred machines—is £20,000. 

The sum of £100,000 should be sufficient, not 
only to purchase a hundred war aeroplanes, but 
to equip the corps with sheds and repair-shops, and 
also to maintain flying grounds, and provide an 
adequate number of motor-lorries. 

This amount allocated for machines and 
incidentals, a Government would find itself face to face 
with the question of providing officers and men for 
the air-corps. Pay for this corps should, it is 
considered, be represented by an annual sum of 
approximately £60,000. 

III. Question of renewals—General cheapness of an air-corps, as compared with other forms of armament.
`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` 

A point of considerable importance, in regard to 
an air-corps, concerns the money which should be 
put aside, each year, for the provision of new 
machines. One eminently practical authority, 
Colonel J. E. Capper, reckons that, in connection 
with a fleet of a hundred aeroplanes, an allowance 
should be made for the purchase of forty new 
machines each year. 

Upon this question of renewals there is, however, 
diversity of opinion. The contention is made, for 
example, that a Government should be prepared, at 
the commencement of the flying season, to relegate 
all its previous year's machines to the schools, for 
the use of pupils, and purchase a new fleet of 
up-to-date craft for use in war-time. 

Such a drastic step, however, should not be 
necessary. It would be advisable, of course, to 
weed out a number of machines, from time to time, 
for the reason that they become obsolete; and such 
machines should, as suggested, find a place at the 
schools for the use of beginners. 

The exact number of new aeroplanes which it 
should be advisable to buy, in any one year, must be 
governed, very largely, by the process of perfection 
which goes on. For the next year or so, it is 
probable that an allowance for renewals will need 
to be a heavy one. Afterwards, as the rate of 
improvement becomes slower, the purchase of new 
machines will represent a lighter item. 

A good reconnoitring biplane, say of the flying 
season of 1911, is not likely to become obsolete in 
\1912. A new machine will probably fly farther and 
faster, and carry more weight; but the 1911 biplane 
will still be capable of useful work, and need not 
be relegated to the scrap-heap. It will behove a 
Government, of course, to equip itself with as many 
new-type machines as possible; and an estimate of 
forty new machines a year, in connection with a fleet 
of a hundred, is by no means unreasonable. 

This, of course, presupposes a logical process of 
development, with an improved type of machine 
appearing from year to year. Should a 
revolutionary discovery be made, the plans of all nations 
would be altered. It might then become necessary, 
in the interests of national safety, to "scrap" a whole 
fleet of aeroplanes, in order to make way for the type 
which had made them obsolete. 

But the unexpected production of an aeroplane, 
immeasurably superior to existing models, is not 
anticipated. Already, it is true, the way can be seen 
to make many improvements upon present-type 
aeroplanes; but, in regard to such a difficult problem 
as that of aviation, the testing and perfecting of 
any new device, however simple, cannot be hastily 
carried out. 

One other consideration, in regard to the running 
costs of a fleet of machines, now presents itself. 
This concerns the allowance to be made for the 
general upkeep of the aeroplanes, and for such items 
as the provision of petrol and oil. Here an expert 
computation places the figure—for an air service of 
a hundred machines—at a sum of £16,000. 

It is possible to arrive at a summary of the cost 
of the purchase and upkeep of a fleet of a hundred 
machines. First would come the expenditure of 
£100,000 upon the aeroplanes themselves, and 
incidentals; and then the Government would need to 
be ready to spend another £100,000 a year upon 
the upkeep of the corps. 

Such estimates as this go to reveal the inadequacy 
of the grant made by the British Government for the 
year 1911-12. As has been previously mentioned, 
the actual sum devoted to aeroplaning, dirigible 
ballooning, and the upkeep of the Air Battalion, has 
been £85,000. Owing to the costliness of airships, 
only a small portion of this sum has been devoted to 
aeroplanes. There is no chance—with such a grant 
as this—of mapping out an adequate programme 
for aeroplane work. 

OUR AERIAL PROGRAMME FOR 1912-13
-------------------------------- 

While the greater portion of this book was already 
in the Press, and too late for classification or detailed 
comment, the Government's programme in regard to 
Naval and Military Airmanship, for 1912-13, was 
duly announced. 

The appended summary of the official scheme is 
from the Memorandum, concerning the Army 
Estimates, issued by the Secretary of State for War:—

"Sufficient experience has now been gained in 
military aviation to warrant advance on less tentative 
lines; and after careful consideration by the Committee 
of Imperial Defence, it has been decided to establish 
at once a joint Army and Navy School of Aviation at 
which officers of both services shall be taught to fly, 
before proceeding to the separate Army and Navy 
establishments at which they will be exercised in the 
more specialised requirements of their respective 
services. 

"A site for the school has been selected on 
Salisbury Plain, and the purchase of the necessary land 
will be completed at the beginning of April. Building, 
to plans which have been already prepared, will be 
pressed forward rapidly, and it is hoped at a very early 
date to have accommodation at the school for officers 
and men, instructors and mechanics, as well as the 
necessary sheds for aeroplanes and workshops for their 
repair and adjustment. Provision has also been made 
on an extended scale for purchase of aeroplanes and 
other necessary equipment for the school. 

"Officers of both services will be employed on the 
staff of the school, and its expenses (other than cost of 
land) will be shared between Army and Navy votes. 

"The Estimates further provide for continuing the 
experimental and other work of the Army aircraft 
factory, for further buildings required for airships, for 
an addition of personnel to Army establishments for 
aeroplane work, and for a considerable number of 
aeroplanes as a first instalment of the equipment of the 
Field Army. 

"The total provision for the above services made 
in these estimates compares with that made in 1911-12 
as follows:—

=============================================================== ============ =============
 —                                                              1912-13      1911-12 
=============================================================== ============ =============
Establishment of Army personnel for aeronautical work ... ...   £25,000      £20,000 
Premiums to officers gaining pilot's certificates               £3,000       —
Staff of new school                                             £5,000       —
Aeroplanes, stores, and materials for factory and school        £161,000     £85,000 
Buildings, including Army share of school buildings             £38,000      £26,000 
Land for school                                                 £90,000      —
=============================================================== ============ =============

=============================================================== ============ =============
Less Admiralty contribution to general expenses of school       £322,000     £131,000 
 —                                                              £14,000      —
=============================================================== ============ =============

=============================================================== ============ =============
Increased provision                                             £308,000     £131,000 
=============================================================== ============ =============

=============================================================== ==========================
 —                                                              £177,000
=============================================================== ==========================

For a full statement of the Government's aerial 
programme, it is not possible to do better than 
reproduce the speech (as printed in *The Times*) which 
was made by Colonel Seely, Parliamentary 
Under-Secretary of State for War. 

Colonel Seely, explaining in the House of Commons 
the official scheme for the forthcoming year, said:—

    "He now came to what was called aviation, though 
    he hoped that that detestable word would vanish from 
    the English language. With regard to the defence of 
    the country, the Prime Minister had appointed a 
    committee, of which Lord Haldane was the chairman. 
    That committee settled broad principles and entrusted 
    the making-out of the complete scheme to a technical 
    committee, of which he acted as chairman. This 
    committee was at work during the whole of last recess, 
    and prepared a scheme which the full committee had 
    accepted in all parts except the details as to pay. The 
    scheme had that morning been approved by the Prime 
    Minister, and would now be carried into effect. 

    "There was to be one flying corps, embracing 
    soldiers, sailors, and civilians—all who could fly and 
    would take the obligation to serve this country in time 
    of war in any part of the world. No man would hold 
    executive rank in the flying corps unless he was himself 
    an expert flyer. The present Air Battalion would cease 
    to exist, and part of it would be absorbed in the new 
    organisation. The corps would be one corps, and as 
    far as possible all the officers would be paid and treated 
    alike. In a purely land war the whole flying corps 
    would be available for land warfare, and in a purely 
    naval war for naval warfare. The headquarters would 
    be near Nether-Avon on Salisbury Plain, where a large 
    tract had been purchased at a cost of about £90,000. 
    In the first instance accommodation would be 
    provided for sixty officers at the school at any one time. 
    There would be three terms of four months each, and it 
    was proposed to pass through a hundred and eighty 
    officers in each year. If an officer wished to join the 
    flying corps he had first to get the consent of the 
    military authorities, then to be passed by the doctor, 
    and afterwards obtain his Royal Aero Club certificate 
    at a private aerodrome. It was not proposed to use the 
    central school for teaching officers to fly. They would 
    learn the elements of the art elsewhere and go to the 
    flying school for the more advanced course. After 
    receiving the Royal Aero Club certificate, and before 
    presenting themselves, they would receive £75 which 
    it was believed would cover the cost. This 
    arrangement had already been in force some little time; 
    he believed between twenty and thirty officers had 
    received the £75. Afterwards officers would be 
    attached to the central air school, and would go 
    through a course of four months. They would 
    learn progressive flying, mechanics and construction, 
    meteorology, observation from the air, flying by 
    compass, photography from the air, signalling, and 
    types of warships of all nations. After this course the 
    officer of the air-corps, whatever his origin, would 
    either join the military wing or the naval wing, or go 
    straight to the reserve. The military wing would 
    consist of seven aeroplane squadrons, each containing 
    twelve aeroplanes and a suitable number of officers for 
    flying. There would be an eighth squadron, consisting 
    of balloons and kites. The naval wing would have 
    headquarters at Eastchurch. The numbers had not 
    yet been finally settled, but they would be considerable, 
    and would be increased. In the reserve there would be 
    two classes—the first reserve consisting of airmen who 
    performed so many flights across country in each 
    quarter and received a retaining fee, and the second 
    reserve consisting of those who did not enter into this 
    undertaking, but would be available in time of war. 
    Both the Army and Navy wings of the air-crops would 
    always be on a war footing, and the peace and war 
    establishments would be the same. The Army aircraft 
    factory would cease to be called by that name, and 
    would become the aircraft factory for the whole flying 
    corps. Its functions would include experiment and 
    building experimental machines, making repairs to 
    machines where that was thought desirable, sometimes 
    building machines, though that would not be its 
    primary duty, and training in expert knowledge the 
    numerous mechanics who would be required for this 
    new service. 

    "The scheme involved the purchase of a hundred 
    and thirty-one aeroplanes. He was not sure they could 
    all be bought this year, though the obstacle was not 
    expense. The first seventy-one had been sanctioned 
    already. The orders for a great many of them had 
    gone out, and the others were in process of negotiation. 
    Not so many had been ordered from British 
    manufacturers as could be wished, but that was because the 
    technical members of his committee realised, and in 
    this they had the full approval of the whole committee, 
    that the first essential was efficiency and safety. In 
    many respects France had gone a long way ahead of 
    us in both those matters. The Government could not 
    buy British machines at the price of human life, but no 
    doubt this difficulty would soon be overcome, for a great 
    many of the best brains were undoubtedly at work 
    making the aeroplane not only more speedy and 
    efficient, but safer. 

    "The risks the officers would run would be very 
    great. The insurance rates were very high. But it 
    was some consideration to know that in France they 
    had enormously increased the safety of learning to fly. 
    One school had covered 160,000 kilometres without 
    accident. It was to be hoped the risks would be 
    reduced, but they would still be very great, and he 
    trusted the House would not grudge the expense 
    involved in making adequate payment to officers, and 
    giving an adequate scale of pensions in the event of 
    their being seriously injured. (Cheers.) The military 
    wing required at once to fly these aeroplanes a 
    hundred and thirty-three officers, the Navy a number 
    not yet fixed, but thirty or forty at once, and the reserve 
    a number which would depend on the progress of our 
    science in the near future. They had not got the 
    hundred and thirty-three military officers. No doubt 
    many officers would volunteer. It could only be hoped 
    that they would learn to fly with as little accident as 
    possible. It had been settled that the officers should 
    learn to fly at private flying schools, first, because it 
    was desirable to encourage private effort; and, secondly, 
    because they thought there was less risk of accident in 
    the initial stages if this method was adopted. It was 
    a method which had been largely followed in France, 
    and it had obvious advantages. It was greatly to the 
    interest of the owner of an aerodrome to avoid accident. 
    When officers had learned the elementary art of flying 
    they would go to the central flying school." 

This official announcement of policy, as revealed 
above, unfortunately comes too late for more than 
the briefest criticism in these pages. 

All that can be said, indeed, is that the scheme 
prepared, while certainly representing a stride 
forward in comparison with the previous apathy of our 
authorities, is still inadequate when contrasted with 
the activities of either France or Germany. 

In France close upon £100,000 has been 
subscribed, by an enthusiastic public, to augment the 
million which the Government will expend; 
Germany has increased an original vote to the tune of 
£100,000. 

Our scheme can only be regarded as a 
beginning—and, in several respects, a disappointing one, seeing 
that, at the end of the present flying season, both 
France and Germany will, inevitably, have still 
further increased their already long lead. 

Agitation for a more ambitious aerial programme 
in England must not, indeed, cease; this 1912-13 
scheme is not sound enough to relieve public 
uneasiness. We are lamentably behind; and adequate 
steps have not, even now, been taken to bring us on 
anything like a level with foreign rivals, despite the 
fact that the aeroplane has been proved to be an 
absolutely revolutionary weapon of modern war. 

*NOTE*

*Amplifying the official statement of policy 
previously quoted, the authorities issued, on 12th April,
1912, a fuller explanation of their aerial programme. 
But it throws no very clear light upon the immediate 
future; and, although it deals with plans which are 
ambitious, it is disquietingly vague concerning the 
all-important question of finance.*

*The official design is, it is stated, to form seven 
aeroplane squadrons, each comprising twelve 
aeroplanes; and, to man this air-fleet, a force of 364 pilots 
and observers will be required. In addition, there will 
be forty airmen who will be trained, specifically, in the 
duties of naval airmanship.*

*But the facilities actually provided—as apart from 
paper schemes—are still so meagre that it will only be 
possible, during this year, to train a very small 
proportion of the corps set forth above. Thus it is to 
be feared that, at the end of 1912, our position will 
continue to compare, most unfavourably, with that of 
either France or Germany.*

*We are more than a year behind, and seem likely 
to remain so.*

TWELFTH SECTION PROBLEM OF ARTILLERY FIRE AND THE AEROPLANE 
-----------------------------------------------------------

\I. Conflicting opinions as to an aeroplane's vulnerability—Experiments which have been carried out. 
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

So far, the military aeroplane has been described 
as a reconnoitring or dispatch-bearing craft, 
carrying out its important work, in time of war, without 
any interference save that brought about by adverse 
weather conditions. 

But there is an aspect of the case, so far as actual 
service conditions are concerned, which 
will—according to many vehement critics of the 
aeroplane—nullify the utility of an air-scout, and make 
expenditure upon fleets of machines largely a waste 
of money. 

They affirm, in a word, that well-directed 
artillery-fire will prove so deadly that no aeroplane will be 
able to live through it, and that any reconnoitring 
machine, which ventures over an enemy's position, 
will be destroyed with the greatest ease. 

On the other hand, there is an equally definite 
statement by staunch advocates of military flying. 
They declare, emphatically, that artillery-fire, when 
directed against aeroplanes, will prove a negligible 
quantity. No point, indeed, arouses more 
controversy than the problem of the vulnerability of the 
aeroplane to artillery or rifle-fire. 

The question is a moot one, and it is bound to 
remain so until the coming of a war in which 
aeroplanes are employed in fair numbers; but nothing 
could be more ill-advised than a policy which stints 
aeroplane development, because it is *believed* they 
will be destroyed by gun-fire. 

As a matter of fact, tests which have been made 
up to the present time are in favour, not of the 
gunner, but of the aeroplane. This fact is, however, 
frequently ignored by the artillery experts. They 
adhere to their view, and the airmen to theirs. 
"Aeroplanes will be swept away when they come 
into the danger zone," declare the champions of 
artillery. "Nothing of the sort will happen," retort 
the advocates of the aeroplane. 

It is probable that an unbiased reader will prefer 
to take a view rather midway between these two, and 
be willing to grant that, while some aeroplanes are 
likely to be "winged" by skilful gunners, the greater 
proportion of them will, on account of their height 
and speed, escape being hit. 

Since the aeroplane has demonstrated its 
unquestionable value as a reconnoitring craft, special 
guns have been made in order to combat it. These 
have long range, and are designed to fire vertically 
into the air. Many tests have, also, been made with 
kites and balloons, to reveal the ease, or otherwise, 
of striking an aeroplane in flight. 

As regards these experiments, the opinion among 
experts is again divided. Artillerymen do not 
hesitate to say that they prove their case—which is, of 
course, that the aeroplane is a vulnerable target. 
Aeroplane enthusiasts combat such suggestions; and 
so the controversy goes on. 

One fact stands suggestively revealed; wise 
countries, despite assertions that artillery will blow 
aeroplanes to pieces, are buying more and more 
machines, instead of curtailing their orders. 

France and Germany, for instance, which have 
carried out more tests than any other countries in 
regard to the vulnerability of aircraft, are determined 
to increase their fleets of aeroplanes. 

This, surely, should tell its own story. It is 
unusually impressive, as a matter of fact, seeing that 
artillery experts, both in France and Germany, have 
been ready to declare that well-directed gun-fire will 
rob aeroplane scouting of its significance. But 
those who control constructive policy, both in France 
and Germany, have judged impartially; and, as a 
result, they have bought more aeroplanes. 

The difficulty, in carrying out tests of gun-fire, as 
directed against aeroplanes, is to obtain artificial 
conditions which shall, even roughly, approximate to 
those which would prevail in actual war. So far, it 
has been clear that, in all tests which have been 
carried out, conditions have been in favour of the 
gunner. But, even so, the results obtained have 
been inconclusive—to say the least of it. 

Let us take, for purpose of illustration, one of the 
experiments conducted in France. In this a large 
box-kite was employed. It was allowed to ascend, 
in a strong wind, until it flew at a height, in regard 
to its size, which represented, approximately, the 
target which would be represented by a scouting 
aeroplane. 

Then it was towed past a battery of artillery. 
Twelve shots were fired at it; and, out of the dozen, 
one hit was recorded. This was not a good result, 
from the gunner's point of view. In this test, too, 
conditions favoured the men at the guns. 

To begin with, they expected their target, and 
knew from which direction it would appear. In the 
second place, the target was, in comparison with an 
aeroplane, moving much more slowly than the flying 
machine would have done; and, in the third place, 
the kite was towed in a perfectly-straight line, and 
was not pursuing an erratic course, as an aeroplane 
would certainly do—in the efforts of the pilot to 
escape being hit—were it under fire. And yet, even 
with these points in their favour, the gunners 
achieved but one hit in a dozen shots. 

It is possible to cite another instance, in this 
connection—that of a series of tests carried out, in 
American waters, from a warship. Here, again, the 
target was a box-kite, and it was flown above the 
vessel at an altitude of about 800 feet. Ten 
blue-jackets were then formed up upon the deck; and they 
fired three volleys at this representation of an 
aeroplane. The bullets, in the first two volleys, all went 
wide of the mark. In the third, however, the 
box-kite was hit. 

Here, again, although conditions favoured the 
riflemen, they failed to obtain satisfactory results. 
During the three volleys, the box-kite was flown at 
an unvarying height. This was a point very greatly 
in their favour. 

In actual warfare, had they been firing at an 
aeroplane, the machine would, probably, have been 
travelling at a speed of sixty miles an hour or more; 
and it would, therefore, have presented a different 
range, at each volley fired. 

Another experiment, carried out from an 
American battleship, is also of interest. In this case, a 
plunging kite was sent up to a specified height, and 
160 rounds were fired at it with rifles. Although 
the kite swung about a good deal, it did not vary its 
altitude. In connection with this test—in which 
picked shots were employed—40 hits, out of the 160 
rounds, were recorded. 

As a result of the tests recorded above, and of 
others less interesting, the Secretary of the United 
States Navy was led to make the pronouncement that 
no aeroplane could, with any degree of safety, 
approach nearer than 1000 yards of a position 
protected by rifle-fire. 

As opposed to this view, the opinion of experts at 
the Hythe School of Musketry is that it would be more 
or less a waste of ammunition to attempt to "wing," 
with rifle-fire, an aeroplane 3000 feet high. In the 
practical work of the aeroplane in Tripoli, machines 
flying less than 2000 feet high were not damaged 
by rifle-fire. 

The point to bear in mind, in this connection, is 
that an aeroplane flying 3000 feet high, and at a 
speed greater than that of an express train, would, 
inevitably, prove a very difficult target. The 
airman would appear suddenly, and quickly go out of 
view again; and he would alter his height, and course, 
so that a perplexed gunner—needing to fire quickly, 
or not at all—would find the range constantly 
varying. 

.. figure:: images/Image14.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: MILITARY AIRMAN'S REPORT.
   
   MILITARY AIRMAN'S REPORT.
   Photo, M. Branger.
   After descending from a reconnoitring flight on a Blériot monoplane, in the French manœuvres, the pilot seen above is imparting details of what he has observed to another officer.

Quite recently, a famous military expert has 
pronounced the opinion that high-angle gun-fire would 
have no great potentiality against fast-flying 
aeroplanes. 

Amplifying some tests first carried out in France, 
have come a series of more recent experiments, in 
which the conditions imposed have been more 
disadvantageous to the gunners. The result has been 
a striking testimony to the invulnerability of the 
aeroplane. For example, kites have been towed by 
motor-cars at a speed actually representing the flight 
of fast monoplanes. Gunners, when firing under such 
fairly realistic conditions, have failed to secure 
anything like a satisfactory percentage of hits. 

Tests on a somewhat similar scale have, also, been 
carried out in Germany; and, here again, the artillery 
has not distinguished itself. In Germany, also, 
small balloons have been used as targets. These 
have been set free, and have been permitted to 
ascend to a certain height, before being fired at. In 
connection with these experiments, a fairly-large 
percentage of hits was recorded. This was due, no 
doubt, to the fact that there was no erratic movement 
to be allowed for—the balloons moving on an easily 
determined line. 

These target tests, as can be seen, represent 
conditions which are quite artificial. It is possible to 
take, for the sake of comparison, the practice indulged 
in by gunners at coast defences. Targets are towed 
at specified distances out to sea, and then the gunners 
pound away at them. Such practice is good, of 
course. It accustoms the men to the handling of 
their guns; and it certainly improves their 
marksmanship. 

But now contrast this target practice with a 
sudden attack, in war-time, by hostile torpedo craft. 

Here will be no mechanically-moving target, at 
which to take a leisurely aim. Instead, there will 
be the rush and tear of war. Marksmanship, under 
such conditions, is a very different thing to 
quietly-conducted practice firing. And a similar 
argument—only with greater force—applies to shooting at 
aeroplanes in war-time. 

Among distinguished students of this problem 
of gun-fire and the aeroplane is Colonel J. E. 
Capper, who was, for seven years, in charge of the 
aeronautical work of the British Government. His 
view is that artillery, however well-trained, would 
have very great difficulty in firing accurately at a 
fast-flying machine. 

An instance which Colonel Capper gives is this: 
if the range of a gun is 5000 yards, an aeroplane, 
moving across it at a speed of fifty miles an hour, 
would be in range for less than 3 1/2 minutes. During 
this period of 3 1/2 minutes, the gun would need to 
travel across an angle of 60 degrees, altering its 
range down to 4330 yards in the first 1 3/4 minutes, 
and increasing it again to 5000 yards in the next 1 3/4
minutes. 

To do this would be an extremely difficult task, 
even if the aeroplane, while flying past, made itself 
the easiest possible target; that is to say, if it flew 
steadily at one level, all the time, and moved directly 
across in front of the guns. But an airman would, 
naturally, seek to make himself as difficult a target 
as possible. He would, therefore, constantly alter 
his altitude by movements of his elevating plane; 
and he would, in addition, steer erratically from side 
to side. 

How confusing this would be for the gunner may 
easily be imagined. Apart from the speed of the 
aeroplane, which would, as shown, only permit him 
a brief opportunity of firing at it, he would be faced 
with the fact that range, elevation, and direction of 
the elusive target would constantly be altering. In 
addition, he would probably be called upon to 
make allowance for a wind, when aiming at the 
machine. 

Apropos the rapidity with which a modern-type 
machine will come into the range of a gun, and 
disappear again, an incident in some minor manœuvres 
held in France is of interest. On this occasion, a 
special gun, designed to shoot at aircraft, and 
mounted upon a motor-car, was taken out with the 
troops. Suddenly, an aeroplane appeared in sight. 
It was flying straight towards the troops, which were 
on the march. The special gun was called for; but, 
before it could be brought into action, and trained 
upon the aeroplane, the latter had gone completely 
out of range. This illustration shows what an 
unsatisfactory and elusive target an aeroplane is bound 
to be. 

II. Shrapnel shell—Question of hitting a vital part of the aeroplane—Difficulty of identifying friend or foe. 
`````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

It is generally agreed, among artillery experts, 
that shrapnel shell should form a suitable projectile 
to be fired against an aeroplane. The shrapnel is, 
indeed, a particularly-deadly missile. This shell 
consists of a metal case, containing a sufficient 
amount of explosive to burst it, when the fuse 
explodes the charge. This fuse can, of course, be set 
so that the shell explodes at any given distance from 
the gun which fires it. 

Inside the metal case, or shell, is a charge of 
bullets. When the shell bursts, these bullets fly out 
from it, ready to spread destruction over an 
appreciable area. Should a shell burst in close proximity 
to an aeroplane, for instance, the scattering charge 
would, it is anticipated, break struts and stays, and 
possibly hit the pilot, or some vital part of his 
machine. 

But, granting the deadly nature of a well-aimed 
shrapnel shell, there are several points to be 
considered, before we can imagine it bringing an 
aeroplane to the ground. In the first place, there is the 
question of the timing of the fuse. This must be 
done, of course, with absolute accuracy; and the 
gunner must aim his weapon at a point in front of the 
aeroplane, as it flies across his view. This represents 
a matter for nice calculation, being determined by 
the speed of the aeroplane aimed at, the speed of 
the shell, and the distance of the aircraft from the 
gun. 

Thus, when he is firing at a sixty-mile-an-hour 
monoplane, passing swiftly through the air, several 
thousand feet away, a gunner must obtain his range 
without delay, set his fuse accurately, and aim his 
gun with the greatest care. And, all the time, his 
target will be moving as fast as an express train, and 
perhaps making erratic twists and turns in the air. 

It is not surprising, in view of such circumstances, 
that one of the greatest of military experts has 
declared that an aeroplane, flying at sixty miles an 
hour, and at an altitude of from 3000 to 4000 feet, 
will present an exceptionally-difficult mark, even to 
the most skilled of gunners, equipped with special 
weapons. 

It does not follow, even should a shrapnel shell be 
exploded successfully in the vicinity of an aeroplane, 
that the machine will be brought to the ground. 
There is still the question as to striking a vital part 
of the aircraft. It should be remembered that the 
greater portion of the target which a machine 
exposes to gun-fire is represented by its planes; and 
these could be pierced by many bullets before their 
efficiency was affected. 

Thus, a number of bullets from a shrapnel shell 
might strike an aeroplane without producing any 
result. What would be necessary, would be to hit 
the airman, or place a shot in some vital part of his 
machine. Damage to a working part of the engine 
would, for example, bring the machine down. So 
would injury to radiator, petrol tank, or propeller. 
A bullet might, also, break an important stay—or 
cut a controlling wire. In such a case, the machine 
might fall, and be wrecked. 

The point to be made, which is of importance, is 
this: it does not follow that, even if an aeroplane were 
hit, it would be brought to the ground. Many bullets 
from a shrapnel shell might, as has been shown, 
strike a machine in flight, without having any effect 
upon it at all. This is certainly a factor in favour 
of the aeroplane. 

A fact to be considered, also, when the problem 
of aeroplanes and gun-fire is under review, is the 
distance at which aircraft are visible from the ground. 
In ordinary weather, and under normal conditions, 
it is generally estimated that a reconnoitring 
aeroplane should be sighted when it is about three 
miles away. 

But, even in clear atmospheric conditions, the 
aircraft is an elusive object to locate. Even when 
one is expected to appear, from a certain direction, 
and all eyes are fixed upon the sky, awaiting its 
advent, it is frequently almost at its destination 
before anyone locates it. 

More difficult, as can be imagined, is the task of 
sighting an aeroplane when it is not known from 
what point of the compass it is likely to appear. 
And yet this, of course, will be the position of the 
gunner in war-time. A hostile aircraft may loom up 
from anywhere—even from over his own troops. It 
will be possible for a reconnoitring machine to 
ascend to a great height, and conceal itself in 
low-lying clouds. From these it will be able to 
descend swiftly, effect a rapid reconnaissance, and 
then "climb" again until lost to sight. 

In such circumstances, the artilleryman will need 
to be phenomenally handy with his gun if he is to 
note the approach of so cunning a scout, and "wing" 
him before he has slipped out of range. 

A point which has been referred to before—but 
which artillery experts are prone to ignore—is the 
skill a military pilot will be able to exercise, in 
avoiding fire from below. In many cases, during a 
reconnaissance, the observer should be able to obtain 
all the information he seeks without once coming 
within range of the enemy's guns. 

Naturally, the aeroplanist will never fly 
intentionally over artillery, or court infantry-fire. 
Long-distance observations will often be possible, giving 
the gunner no chance of using a shell; or, if it is 
necessary to come fairly close to troops, for a detailed 
piece of reconnaissance, the airman will swoop down, 
and as speedily get clear again. 

When he knows he is likely to be within range of 
any of the enemy's guns, he will pursue an erratic 
course. Therefore, the gunner, when he does obtain 
a chance of firing at a machine, will find his target 
darting about in disconcerting fashion. 

A point arises as to establishing the identity of an 
aircraft, when it is sighted during time of war. 
Machines will fly flags, indicating their nationality, 
but these flags are not likely to be seen at any great 
distance. Therefore, if an artilleryman detects an 
aeroplane, approaching at an appreciable altitude, it 
will frequently be impossible for him to determine 
whether it is friend or foe. 

That it is, obviously, a machine of a particular 
type, or make, will not help the artilleryman, because 
aeroplanes of all forms of construction will be 
employed, in connection with the various armies. The 
fact that it may be flying over from behind him, as 
though it had risen from his own lines, will prove 
nothing, as a hostile scout might have made a wide 
detour, and so approached the enemy from the rear. 

This difficulty as to identifying friend or foe is 
likely to prove a real one in time of war, particularly 
when a large number of machines are in the air; and, 
exactly how it will be met, is not easy to see. 

Having reviewed the position, so far as the 
aeroplane and gun-fire are concerned, it is possible to 
form more or less definite conclusions concerning 
the subject. In the first place, one point is clear: 
extreme views are unwise in regard to such a problem 
as this. What tests so far carried out have proved, 
if they have proved anything, is that there are two 
points of view. 

Artillery experts, who declare that every 
reconnoitring aeroplane will be blown to pieces before it 
can carry out its work, are obviously wrong; so, too, 
is the enthusiast who affirms that guns will be 
altogether useless when directed against airmen. 

What it is possible to deduce, from the 
generally-inconclusive experiments recorded, is that the 
balance of testimony—so far as it can be 
estimated—is in favour of the aeroplane. As a matter of fact, 
the reasonable view to take is that, when a squadron 
of aeroplanes deliberately sets forth to reconnoitre 
an enemy's position, a certain percentage of 
machines will be hit by gun-fire, and brought to the 
ground. 

Exactly what that percentage will be is a moot 
point; experience alone can tell. But the tests 
already described suggest, very plainly, that the 
percentage should be low. 

The skill of the pilot in avoiding fire will be 
an important factor in the question—as already 
mentioned. An over-daring airman may quickly 
find himself in danger; a careful, cautious man may 
do all the work required of him without giving 
hostile artillery a chance to get in a shot. 

Level-headed officers, who have practical 
experience in military flying, do not anticipate, for a 
moment, that the aeroplanes which ascend in time 
of war will escape scot-free. 

"Casualties there are bound to be." The words 
are those of an expert of international repute. "Risks 
will be taken knowingly, according to the value of 
the information which is required. War is not a 
kid-glove affair. Large squadrons of aeroplanes 
will be used; and, apart altogether from the question 
of the loss of life, the destruction of a small 
proportion of machines will not affect the utility of a corps. 
The position, in a nutshell, is this: the news that an 
aeroplane can obtain is so vitally important that the 
risk of men, and machines, will be considered amply 
justified." 

This much appears certain. No artillery-fire, 
however skilfully directed, is likely to nullify the effects 
of aeroplane reconnoitring. Machines will be hit; 
lives will be lost. But the value of the aeroplane's 
work will lie in the number of machines employed. 
If fifty are sent out upon a reconnoitring flight, and 
if some of them fall victims to the enemy's gun-fire, 
a sufficient number will return to impart, to a 
Commander-in-Chief, the information he seeks to obtain. 

The only sensible policy, for any nation, is to 
do what France and Germany are doing. Both 
these countries are developing war aeroplanes; 
and they are also building, and experimenting with, 
special guns for the destruction of aircraft. While 
you cannot destroy an enemy's air-fleet, the obvious 
policy is to cripple it as much as possible; and, 
recognising that no gun-fire can altogether prevent 
the aeroplane from doing its work, the equally 
obvious thing to do is to obtain an efficient fleet of 
machines, as well as batteries of guns. 

THIRTEENTH SECTION DESTRUCTIVE POTENTIALITIES OF WEIGHT-CARRYING AEROPLANES 
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I. What a modern-type machine can raise—Load of two men, and explosives. 
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In previous sections, the reconnoitring capabilities 
of the war aeroplane have been dealt with; but there 
is now another, and an increasingly-significant 
aspect of its work. This lies in its power of 
destruction. 

In its early stages, the aeroplane could, only with 
difficulty, raise its pilot from the ground; any 
weight-lifting was out of the question. But, with 
the development of engines, and the efficiency of 
machines generally, the carrying of appreciable 
burdens has come within the range of practical 
politics. 

A biplane can be constructed, at the present time, 
which is capable of raising a pilot, an engineer, and 
a load of explosives, and of flying, thus loaded, for 
several hours without descending. 

Not long ago, it was predicted that a fleet of 
weight-carrying aeroplanes might be able to leave 
foreign soil one day, fly over London, drop a 
quantity of explosives on the city, and return—by way 
of the air—whence they came. 

When this prediction was first made, it was 
generally considered in the nature of an impossible 
dream. But, nowadays, it has ceased to be a 
wildly-improbable undertaking. With aeroplanes such as 
could be built at the present time, an expedition 
of this character could, as a matter of fact, be 
carried out. 

But the aeroplane must first be perfected as a 
scouting machine. Afterwards, may come its 
application as an offensive weapon. To ignore the 
destructive aspect of military flying is, however, 
foolish. 

Foreign countries realise such possibilities; 
already, tentative experiments are being made. 
When reckoned singly, aeroplanes have an 
insignificant value as engines of destruction; but, when 
bomb-dropping machines are employed in large, 
well-organised squadrons, a different situation arises. 
It is in regular fleets that attacking machines of the 
future will, almost certainly, be employed. 

It was in 1909, after his cross-Channel flight, 
that M. Louis Blériot declared: "Before long, 
military and naval aeroplanes will be able to carry 
explosives of the deadliest nature." This shrewd 
man saw what lay in the future. At the time he 
spoke, a flight of an hour's duration, by a machine 
carrying only one man, was an achievement; but, 
nowadays, a heavily-laden machine can remain aloft 
for a number of hours. 

Bomb-dropping mechanism, to facilitate the 
discharge of a missile from an aeroplane, has been 
devised. The bombs are contained in a chamber 
beneath the aeroplane, and pass thence into a tube, 
which is pointed towards the ground. By pressing 
a button, conveniently close to his driving-seat, the 
airman is able to release a series of bombs over a 
given point. Missiles in the form of 
carefully-weighted arrows have also been employed—the 
explosive forming the head of the arrow, and the 
projectile being released from a special form of 
sighting mechanism. With this apparatus, fairly 
good practice has been made, from heights in the 
neighbourhood of 500 feet. 

The experiments so far made, in connection with 
dropping bombs, show that considerable practice is 
necessary before accurate aim is possible. In actual 
attacks in warfare, however, absolute precision would 
not always be an essential. A detachment of 
machines would probably pass, one after another, 
over a given position, raining down missiles as they 
swept by. The aim would be made as accurate as 
possible, of course; but the telling nature of the 
attack would be, not in the chance of individual 
bombs reaching any precise mark, but in the fact 
that a large percentage of the missiles would be 
calculated to do damage over a given area. 

Among experts in France and Germany, who are 
now paying keen attention to this question of a 
destructive war aeroplane, it is considered that an 
incendiary bomb would work great havoc in 
wartime. The possibility of employing some such bomb 
as this was suggested by Lord Charles Beresford, 
after he had witnessed the demonstration organised 
by the Parliamentary Aerial Defence Committee in 
May, 1911. He foresaw that aeroplanes might be 
able to drop cylinders of some highly-inflammable 
spirit, ignited by a sensitive fuse, and calculated to 
cause an instant and violent conflagration. 

As a matter of fact, it has already been realised that 
several types of bomb are likely to be employed in 
aerial warfare, according to the targets which are 
aimed at. In an attack upon supply stores, for 
example, an incendiary bomb may be used, so that the 
contents may be set on fire, and destroyed; and the 
same kind of missile will probably be dropped upon 
dockyards, arsenals, and magazines. 

For the destruction of bridges, for the attack upon 
troops on the march, and for the bombarding of 
encampments, some special form of explosive shell may 
be used. Definite choice of such a shell has not 
yet been made; but here, again, experimental work 
has already been commenced abroad. 

In England, realising the importance of this 
question. Sir Hiram Maxim has recently been 
engaging himself with the production of a 100-lb. 
aerial projectile likely to create a maximum amount 
of damage when striking the ground. 

Aerial bombardment, if systematically carried out, 
will certainly add another terror to modern war; and 
the question is sometimes asked whether nations 
have a right, according to the agreements of the 
Hague Convention, to employ such a means of 
attack. The position, so far as the last convention 
was concerned, was that certain nations, notably 
France and Germany, did not become signatories 
to a rule, proposing that aerial bomb-dropping should 
be disallowed. 

Such a practical airman as M. Vedrines is 
enthusiastic regarding the offensive powers of a modern 
aeroplane, when skilfully handled. His view is that 
a large and well-organised squadron of 
weight-carrying machines should be able to render almost 
useless a fleet of ships. 

Naval men would, no doubt, regard such a 
statement as being an exaggeration. The aim of 
an aeroplanist, when directing his bomb against a 
moving ship, would frequently be inaccurate, they 
claim; and they also affirm that an aeroplane would 
not be able to carry bombs sufficiently large and 
deadly to do much damage, even if one did, 
occasionally, reach its mark. 

But here the argument is based upon the possible 
use of one machine, and not of a fleet. One 
aeroplane, dropping a few bombs on a fleet of ships, 
would naturally produce an insignificant result. But 
what of the results achieved by several hundred, and 
perhaps of a thousand? In such a case, there would 
not be one bomb to contend against, but a volley of 
missiles. 

\M. Vedrines, whose opinion was quoted above, 
is a believer in the speed of the aeroplane, as aiding 
its powers of attack. In regard to a possible war 
between France and Germany, he has declared that, 
within an hour of the declaration of such a war, a 
corps of French airmen could be over the frontier, 
attacking, with their bombs, all great railway 
junctions and forts on German soil. 

The rapidity with which an aeroplane onslaught 
can be made should, indeed, prove one of the most 
important features of aerial warfare. Destructive 
machines may fly from their Headquarters, deliver 
an attack fifty or a hundred miles away, and—their 
ammunition exhausted—return quickly to their base 
for more, and so be ready to renew the attack. 

II. Effect of aerial bombardment upon cities and troops—German tests. 
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It was after a seven years' study of military 
aviation, as Commandant of the British Government 
Balloon School, that Colonel J. E. Capper declared 
emphatically: "The necessity has arisen for every 
warlike nation to have a sufficient aerial fleet, armed 
and equipped for offensive warfare." 

His advice, however, was not adopted—at any 
rate, not by the War Office. No steps have yet been 
taken to estimate the value of an aeroplane as a 
destructive instrument, despite the fact that France and 
Germany are keenly alive to the possibilities of a 
large number of weight-carrying machines. 

In Germany, at the present time, secret tests and 
experiments are being made, and the construction 
of special machines undertaken. Meanwhile, we 
fumble along. If a war broke out to-morrow, it is 
true that destructive work by aeroplanes, on anything 
like a large scale, would not be undertaken. 

But what about the day after to-morrow—or rather 
next year? Every day, the general efficiency of the 
aeroplane is being improved, and its radius of action 
increased. Practically every day, also, foreign 
nations are adding to their air-fleets. Already the 
art of employing aircraft in fairly large numbers has 
been learned. Machines for destructive work can 
now be built—and are being built; and yet we are 
content, as yet, to do nothing. 

Sufficient warning has been given. Colonel 
Templer, an officer identified with the first 
Government aeronautical work undertaken in England, has 
declared: "It is conclusively proved that the 
aeroplane is a machine for carrying out attacks in 
warfare. We must, therefore, be prepared not only 
for defence against bomb-dropping aeroplanes; we 
must be prepared, if necessary, to use them." 

Another military expert of high repute, speaking 
of the havoc that a hostile air-fleet might work, by 
an attack upon the Thames Valley between 
Hammersmith and Gravesend, has observed: "This 
whole fifty miles of concentrated essence of Empire 
lies at the absolute mercy of an aerial machine, which 
could plant a dozen incendiary missiles in certain 
pre-selected spots." 

The point to be considered, in this connection, 
is this: such an aerial attack is no longer a vague 
possibility. It was only the other day, while 
discussing the destructive capabilities of 
modern-type aeroplanes, that a famous constructer showed 
how—if a large fleet of machines was marshalled 
together—it would be possible for an enemy to drop 
a couple of hundred tons of explosive matter upon 
London, suddenly appearing from across the 
Channel by air, and as flying quickly back again. 

.. figure:: images/Image15.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: TRANSPORT OF WAR AEROPLANES.
   
   TRANSPORT OF WAR AEROPLANES
   Photo, M. Roe.
   In the manner depicted above—and also by means of motor lorries—were military aeroplanes transported from point to point during the French manœuvres.

What such an aerial attack as this would mean 
has been pictured by Lord Montagu of Beaulieu. 
Suppose London was thus assailed, from the air, at 
the beginning of a war, he says: What would the 
result be? Imagine the Stock Exchange, the chief 
banks, the great railway stations, and our means of 
communication destroyed. "Such a blow at the very 
heart of the Empire," declares Lord Montagu, 
"would be like paralysing the nerves of a strong 
man, with a soporific, before he had to fight for his 
life: the muscular force would remain, but the brains 
would be powerless to direct." 

When delivering an attack upon a city, a 
squadron of aeroplanes engaged in such work would, 
declare military experts who have specially studied the 
problem, probably sweep over the principal buildings 
in a long line, dropping bombs as they flew. Then 
they would wheel round, and return over the same 
area, again releasing a certain number of missiles. 
The disastrous effect of such an aerial bombardment, 
carried out systematically by a large number of 
machines, may readily be imagined. 

Although, as has been mentioned, German 
experimental work, regarding the value of aeroplanes for 
punitive work, has been kept very secret, the result 
of one interesting test, at least, has become known. 
In this case, a squadron of dragoons was specially 
employed to give realism to the experiment. 

The squadron was directed to move a certain 
distance away from one of the German air-stations, and 
then camp for the night. This was done. Then 
two army airmen, flying biplanes, set off to deliver 
a night attack upon the encampment. Beneath 
their machines, they carried a bomb-dropping 
apparatus such as has already been described. 

Locating the bivouac by its fires, the two airmen 
stopped their engines, and planed down silently from 
a considerable altitude. Neither of the aeroplanes 
was seen, by the dragoons, until it was right over 
them. Then the attacking airmen released a stream 
of dummy bombs, which fell all about the camp-fires. 
Immediately they had done so, and before the 
dragoons had recovered from their surprise, the 
pilots started their engines, and disappeared again 
into the darkness. 

Seeing that it was purely experimental, and that 
neither officer-airmen was skilled in such work, the 
result of this mock attack was surprising. Had 
actual war conditions prevailed, and had the bombs 
been real ones, death would have been scattered 
through the bivouac, the horses would probably 
have stampeded, and a general scene of confusion 
would have ensued. 

And this is a most important point: so swift and 
unexpected was the night attack that the machines 
only came into view just at the moment they were 
releasing their bombs. This would probably have 
meant that, in warfare, they would have escaped 
without an effective shot being fired at them. 

By such tests as these, regarding which, as a 
general rule, nothing becomes public, the German 
military authorities are obtaining data that is 
invaluable concerning the destructive potentialities of the 
war aeroplane. Apart from the actual damage done 
by such a night attack as has been described, there 
is its moral effect to be considered—and this point is 
regarded as an important one by foreign experts. 

Nothing, they think, could be more harassing or 
wearying for troops, during a hard campaign, than 
to be attacked, night after night, by squadrons of 
aeroplanes. Incessant watchfulness, and 
consequent loss of rest, would be involved, and a general 
feeling of uneasiness would be occasioned. 

It is now considered feasible to carry a light 
machine-gun upon an aeroplane, and to use it 
effectively. With such guns, skilfully handled, it is 
considered that attacks could be delivered upon 
reserve troops, upon artillery trains, upon the horses 
of guns in action, and upon troops when on the 
march. 

Considerable experience, in handling a 
machine-gun on an aeroplane will, probably, be necessary 
before accuracy can be obtained; but military men, 
who are most competent to speak, see no difficulty in 
equipping an aeroplane with such a gun, and in 
obtaining satisfactory results. 

In conclusion, it may be taken that the offensive 
possibilities of the aeroplane grow, from day to day. 
Machines are built to fly faster, and to carry heavier 
weights. In future, so far as the question of this 
destructive work of machines is concerned, it will be 
necessary to reckon air-fleets not in hundreds, but in 
thousands. 

At the moment, as has been said, the reconnoitring 
machine is engaging most attention; but an 
aeroplane for destructive use is being kept well in mind, 
none the less. Its appearance, as a weapon of war, 
is merely a matter of time. 

What may be accomplished, by a fleet of 
aeroplanes bent upon destruction, has only been hinted 
at in this section; but it should serve its 
purpose—which is to show that no country can afford to ignore 
what the future promises in this respect. 

FOURTEENTH SECTION WAR IN THE AIR BETWEEN HOSTILE AEROPLANES 
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\I. Certainty of a combat between aeroplanes in actual warfare—Air-scouts protected by aerial "cruisers." 
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"The duty of an aerial fleet, armed and equipped 
for offensive warfare, will be to put out of action 
an enemy's aerial force before it can carry out its 
role of reconnoitring—or attacking vital points of 
communication." 

In these words, a military authority of international 
repute indicates the war in the air which will, 
inevitably, take place in connection with any future 
European campaign. 

His view is endorsed by another famous expert, 
who declares: "It is certain that the consequences 
of the use of aerial navigation will be to bring about, 
at the very outset of hostilities, a fight to the death 
between opposing aerial fleets." 

The point that military authorities have come to 
recognise, of course, is this: if the flying machine 
is of vital importance to one side, it will prove equally 
valuable to the other. Therefore, the aim of one 
Commander-in-Chief will be to take steps to prevent 
his opponent from deriving full benefit from his 
aerial scouts. 

Artillery-fire has been quoted, previously, as a 
means of combating the aeroplane, and destroying 
reconnoitring craft. But this method has been 
shown to be uncertain. What is considered a far 
more efficacious way of hampering the operations of 
an enemy's air-scouts, is to send up machines to meet 
them in the air, and either drive them off, or put them 
out of action. 

This suggests an actual contest, in mid-air, 
between two hostile craft; and such aerial battles 
are bound to occur. The most efficacious weapons, 
for such fighting, experience alone will indicate; 
but it is obvious that the ramming of one machine 
by another will not be resorted to. Were one 
aeroplane to charge an enemy's vessel, the result would 
be the fall and destruction of both aircraft. Such 
an expedient might, of course, be resorted to as a 
last desperate move, say in the case where a hostile 
aircraft was escaping with very valuable information. 

What is anticipated, in the way of a fighting 
aeroplane, is a machine which will carry two men, 
a pilot and a marksman, and be armed with some 
form of small quick-firing gun or rifle. 

One of the experts of the French army 
air-corps thinks that a war aeroplane, in the 
immediate future, will carry a pilot, observer, and combatant. 
This combatant, in his opinion, should be armed 
with a light repeating rifle, ready to ward off the 
attacks of other machines. 

This suggests that a reconnoitring aeroplane 
should be a fighting unit as well; but other views 
entertained are that a scouting aircraft should be 
accompanied by one or more fighting aeroplanes, the 
duties of which would be to protect it from attack. 

It seems probable, in fact, that armed aeroplanes 
will accompany each reconnoitring machine when it 
is about to set out over the enemy's position. These 
armed craft, or aerial cruisers, will most likely circle 
round the scouting machine, so as to open fire upon 
any hostile aeroplanes which approach. 

In such an arrangement as this, the reconnoitring 
machine would probably be a slow-flying, reliable 
biplane, equipped exclusively for its work of 
observation. The fighting machines, on the other hand, would 
be built for speed. Fast-flying, strongly-built 
monoplanes would most likely be used; and one prominent 
constructer suggests that such fighting units should 
be fitted with a gun firing a small explosive shell, 
something like a "pom-pom." Such a form of 
armament would certainly be effective; and such an aerial 
cruiser is likely to prove a formidable opponent. 

In connection with the carrying of guns upon an 
aeroplane, it may be mentioned that a light 
machine-gun has already been fitted to a biplane; but little 
has been said about such tests, and nothing definite, 
in the way of experiments, has, as yet, been recorded. 

In connection with the aerial battles that are 
certain to precede the land actions of the future, it 
is difficult to foresee, exactly, what method will be 
pursued by the Commanders of two rival Air 
Battalions. It is fairly clear, however, that each will 
seek to prevent a hostile aeroplane from coming 
within observation distance of his forces; and, at the 
same time, by such strategy as wide detours, each 
will endeavour to slip reconnoitring craft through 
the enemy's lines. 

In the elaboration of any such plans of campaign, 
it is obvious that the fighting units of the 
air-fleet—the fast "cruisers" which will carry 
machine-guns—will come into speedy conflict. Combat, probably, 
will resolve itself into a question of manoeuvring for 
position; then the opponents will open fire. 
Marksmanship and skill in handling a machine will spell 
all the difference between victory and defeat. After 
a preliminary exchange of shots, two machines will 
sweep into closer range, and then one of them, 
"winged" by well-directed fire, will be put out of 
action, and will flutter away earthwards. 

It is obvious that an exceptionally fast, 
high-powered aeroplane, capable of rising at a maximum 
speed, will be most suitable for hostile work against 
other machines. 

The question has been discussed as to protecting, 
with some form of armour, the vital parts of aircraft 
for offensive work. It seems likely that some 
such plan will be adopted. 

II. An encounter in the air—Importance to an army of an aerial victory. 
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It was the late Captain Ferber—one of the first 
military enthusiasts in France upon the subject of 
the aeroplane—who was asked the question: "How 
will a fight take place between aeroplanes?" In 
reply, this famous pioneer said:—

    "In the same way as all fights between birds 
    have ever taken place. When a falcon, for in 
    stance, wants to attack a raven, it first pursues it; 
    and, as soon as the raven finds itself overhauled, 
    it ascends slowly, in spirals, and the falcon starts 
    to rise in a parallel fine. If the raven can rise 
    higher than the falcon, it is saved; if it cannot, 
    its resource is to drop to earth, although during 
    the descent it is liable to be hemmed in by the 
    falcon. Every time the falcon darts upon the 
    raven, the latter will try, by means of a clever 
    side-slip, to avoid the impact. If the falcon has 
    been dodged, there is a respite, for, carried beyond 
    its aim, the falcon loses an elevation which it must 
    painfully regain. The race for altitude may 
    recommence, but now the flight is no longer 
    doubtful; the raven will finally come to the ground, and 
    will be vanquished. In a like manner, will aerial 
    craft struggle." 

An ability to "climb" rapidly, combined with high 
speed will, indeed, prove invaluable to the fighting 
aeroplane. If it can do so, it will undoubtedly seek 
to rise above an antagonist, and destroy it with a 
well-directed missile. If two machines are equally 
well-matched in the matter of rapid soaring and 
speed, their pilots will then exercise all possible skill 
in manoeuvring for position for an effective shot from 
whatever form of light machine-gun is carried. 

The certainty that aerial fighting will precede any 
future battle in which aeroplanes are employed, 
indicates the necessity to build an air-fleet comprising 
several types of machines. In the first place, there 
will be need for an aircraft, either a large 
monoplane, or an exceptionally fast biplane, which will 
carry a machine-gun, or a gun throwing an explosive 
shell. This machine should act purely as an offensive 
unit, going in advance of other craft, and meeting 
the enemy's "air cruisers" in combat. 

Then may come a machine to carry out the 
important work of detailed reconnoitring. This, as has 
already been suggested, should be a biplane, 
carrying if necessary a "crew" of three—pilot, engineer, 
and observer. This machine would have one object 
only—to obtain full and accurate information 
concerning an enemy's movements. 

Protected by one or more "cruisers," it would 
probably ascend to a great height, and seek to slip 
by the enemy's aerial line of defence, or make a wide 
detour and approach the foe from an unexpected 
direction. 

A third type of machine should, it is held, be 
used for swift, comprehensive survey work. This 
machine, carrying merely its pilot, would be a 
monoplane so speedy that it would frequently be able to 
elude the pursuit of any armed craft, and so escape 
destruction. 

This problem of aerial warfare is now very much 
in the minds of those who are concerned in the 
military flying work of France, Germany, and Russia. 
Quite recently, for example, one of Russia's chief 
advisers, in the matter of war aeroplanes, declared: 
"It is now clear that future wars will be begun in 
the air, and that nations will be best prepared that 
are well-equipped with military aeroplanes." This 
statement, bearing out others previously quoted, 
shows how general is the view that aerial fighting 
will play a prominent part in any application of the 
aeroplane to actual war conditions. 

Apart from the "cruiser" type of machine, 
previously described, it is suggested by many experts 
that a fighting aeroplane, carrying a heavier gun or 
guns—a sort of aerial "Dreadnought," in 
fact—should be constructed. The aim of such a machine 
would be to attack antagonists at long range. 

Provided that they could vanquish aerial foes, 
these armed aeroplanes would, no doubt, turn their 
attention to the bombardment of fortifications, and 
land forces; and, the resistance of an enemy being 
crushed, the air-scouts would be free to fly where 
they pleased. 

Thus a reverse in the air would prove a very serious 
matter indeed, for any army. The 
Commander-in-Chief would have all his plans laid bare by the 
unhampered movements of the enemy's aeroplanes; 
and, at the same time, he would be unable to obtain 
any data concerning his antagonist's dispositions. 
This, of course, would be apart from the damage 
that attacking aeroplanes might effect by 
bomb-dropping and machine-gun firing. 

Many experts, indeed, are found to declare that 
a defeat in the air would be followed by a reverse 
on land. It is clear, at any rate, that great 
importance will attach to this aerial fighting. 

A machine regularly equipped for aerial warfare 
has yet to be introduced—but it is merely a question 
of time, and probably a short time at that, before such 
a machine is built and tested. 

The handling of such fighting aircraft will have 
to be learned, also the best modes of approaching 
and attacking a hostile aeroplane. Experimental 
machines will have to be built, and flown, and as 
effective manœuvres as possible carried out. But it 
will be a great war, of course, which will teach the 
real lessons concerning the offensive possibilities of 
the aeroplane. 

Until then, of course, much must remain more 
or less theoretical. But it behoves great nations 
to beware of these grim potentialities of the new 
"arm." 

FIFTEENTH SECTION VALUE OF THE AEROPLANE IN NAVAL WARFARE 
---------------------------------------------------------

\I. Machines for coastal and high-seas work—Question of flying in winds. 
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The work of the aeroplane, when co-operating 
with land forces, is all-important, as has been shown; 
and another field, just as useful, lies in the utilisation 
of air-scouts in naval warfare. 

The possibilities of the aeroplane in this direction 
are, however, only just being realised. To the credit 
of France goes the first definite steps. At Toulon, 
the French naval authorities are keenly alive to the 
value of aerial scouting over the sea. Plans have 
been made for dispatching aeroplanes from the decks 
of cruisers; and reconnoitring flights from the land, 
over the sea, are now being undertaken. 

During the present year France will spend 
£40,000 upon naval aviation, quite apart from her 
disbursement in other respects. 

Germany is training naval airmen, and 
experimenting with aeroplanes for use at sea. Austria has 
established an experimental station. In 
England—since Lieutenant (now Commander) Samson rose 
from the deck of a warship at Sheerness—the 
Admiralty is credited with an ambitious programme. In 
America, highly-practical work has been done in the 
way of building aircraft to rise from the water; and, 
in France, the Voisins have built a machine that lifts 
itself from the surface of the Seine. Farman, too, is 
building successful hydro-aeroplanes. 

From the point of view of their work in naval 
warfare, a very important future lies before the 
aeroplane. So far as can be judged at the present time, 
it is possible to divide naval aeroplanes into two 
categories: I, coastal aeroplanes; and 2, aeroplanes for 
use on the high seas. 

The former should be stationed at harbours and 
other sea-coast points of strategetic importance. The 
latter would be carried to sea with a fleet, and sent 
up, when desired, from the deck of a ship. 

The coastal aeroplane would be invaluable in 
locating the approach of some attacking fleet. A 
machine would be sent up from a harbour and, flying 
high and at a great pace, would be able to scour 
a wide area of water in a surprisingly short space 
of time. Upon sighting an enemy's fleet, the 
air-scout would be able to gauge its strength, and 
then dash back to its Headquarters at astonishing 
speed. 

A fast-flying monoplane, acting as an observing 
craft, would be able to perform the work which would 
otherwise need the services of several cruisers, or 
a number of torpedo-boat destroyers. 

As regards the aeroplane for work on the high 
seas, this should operate in conjunction with a 
specially-built fast steamer, or an auxiliary cruiser. 
Such a vessel, with one or more aeroplanes on board, 
would accompany a fleet. When an air-scout was 
wanted, it would be brought on deck and assembled, 
and would then be launched into the air from a 
special platform on the vessel's deck. 

After making a reconnoitring flight, the machine 
would return to the parent ship, and alight upon the 
deck. By means of such air-scouts, the position of 
an enemy's fleet could first be detected, and then a 
careful watch kept upon its subsequent movements. 

The results gleaned would be more trustworthy 
than those obtained from the look-out of a warship; 
and the field of vision would, also, be infinitely wider. 
What would be of great importance, of course, in 
connection with such aerial observations, would be 
for the pilot of the machine to report what he saw by 
means of wireless telegraphy. There is no reason 
why this should not be done. A well-organised 
service of naval aeroplanes, fitted with long-distance 
wireless, should, indeed, prove of vital importance. 

The point has been made, by critics of the 
aeroplane for naval use, that the high winds often 
encountered at sea would limit the uses of aircraft. 
But, in reply to that, experienced airmen point out 
that, although winds at sea are high, they are also 
steady—far steadier, in fact, than those which blow 
over the land, and are broken up into eddies by 
passing over uneven ground. 

A thirty-mile-an-hour wind, over the land, 
represents to-day quite as much as any airman would care 
to contend against, in the ordinary way; but it should 
be possible, with a high-speed monoplane of existing 
type, to carry out reconnoitring work, over the sea, 
in a wind blowing at the rate of forty miles an hour. 
The even force of the sea wind would make all the 
difference. 

It may be anticipated, also, that this wind-flying 
capacity of the aeroplane, for work at sea, will rise 
from, say, forty to fifty miles an hour, as the speed 
of machines is increased. There is, indeed, every 
chance that a naval aeroplane will be able to give 
a good account of itself—even under adverse weather 
conditions. 

II. Interesting tests—Machines for rising from water, and landing on a ship's deck. 
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

In America a number of interesting tests have 
been made with aeroplanes for naval use. It was in 
this country that Mr Eugene Ely, a skilled 
airman—who has since, unfortunately, met with his 
death—first demonstrated the practicability of alighting upon, 
and rising from, the deck of a battleship. 

At the time the test was made, the American 
cruiser *Pennsylvania* was lying about twelve miles 
off San Francisco. For the purpose of the 
experiment, a wooden platform was erected at the cruiser's 
stern, upon which the airman expressed his intention 
of descending. 

Ely, flying a Curtiss biplane, left the shore in a 
slight mist, being guided as he approached his 
destination by the syren blasts of the *Pennsylvania*. 
When sighted by those on the cruiser, he was flying 
low, quite close to the surface of the water. 

The airman steered past the *Pennsylvania's* bow. 
Then he rose a little, and made a half-circle in the 
air. Smoothly approaching the vessel's stern, he 
stopped his engine, and settled with absolute 
precision upon the platform. 

After a short rest, Ely added to the practical 
interest of his performance by rising from the 
cruiser's deck, and flying back to his starting-point, 
a field on the outskirts of San Francisco. 

American naval men were naturally impressed by 
this performance, and also by a series of experiments 
which were carried out by Mr Glen H. Curtiss, the 
builder of the biplane which bears his name. 

Mr Curtiss designed a biplane which would float 
upon the water on pontoons, and also rise from the 
surface of the water when it moved forward at a 
certain speed. 

Considerable ingenuity was exercised in the 
construction of this machine. The pontoons upon which 
it was mounted, and which took the place of ordinary 
land wheels, were hollow boxes with pointed ends, 
made out of wood, and sheathed with thin steel. 

A large pontoon, under the centre of the biplane, 
bore the greater part of the weight, and a smaller 
pontoon was set under the front of the machine; 
while a third pontoon, smaller still, was placed at 
the extreme forward end of the aeroplane, to tilt it 
upward when it began to move across the water. 

First tests with this machine were entirely 
successful. When forced forward by its propeller, at 
a speed of thirty miles an hour, the hydro-aeroplane 
skimmed along with only its main pontoon on the 
water. Then, at a slight acceleration, it rose easily 
into the air, and flew off. Descents upon the surface 
of the water were made with equal facility. 

.. figure:: images/Image16.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: MOTOR TRANSPORT.
   
   MOTOR TRANSPORT.
   Photo, M. Branger.
   This picture shows how a Breguet military biplane, with its main-planes folded by the sides of its body, can be towed from point to point behind a motor-lorry.

After satisfying himself that his machine answered 
expectations, Curtiss carried out an instructive test 
in conjunction with an American battleship. Flying 
from a point on shore, he made a successful descent 
upon the water close beside the vessel. Then his 
machine was hoisted on board, by means of special 
tackle. 

To complete the test, the biplane was subsequently
lowered into the water again; and Curtiss rose 
without difficulty, flying back to the shore. 

The objection to such a scheme as this, of course, 
would lie in the probable roughness of the sea under 
many conditions of work. Were a high sea running, 
it is generally admitted that an aeroplane could not 
possibly rise from, or land upon, the surface of the 
water. Therefore, the sound plan, at any rate on 
the high seas, would seem to be for an air-scout to 
be launched from the deck of a ship. 

An aeroplane on pontoons should, however, find 
many uses for coastal work. It could, for example, 
be housed in a shed on the water. It could then 
leave harbour on a reconnoitring flight, and return 
again, when alighting, to the smooth water inside 
the harbour. An involuntary descent, when over 
the water, would not cause it injury. 

Apart from the work which it could perform as a 
scout, using wireless telegraphy to flash back its 
news to a parent ship, there are also the destructive 
possibilities of a naval aeroplane to be considered. 
In this regard, however, many experts do not 
consider that the potentialities of a naval aircraft would 
be so important as those of a machine operating with 
land forces. 

An attack upon a warship by aeroplane would 
not, it is held, do much damage to the sea-craft, the 
contention being that the aeroplane would not be 
able to carry bombs sufficiently powerful to effect 
any appreciable damage. Another point made is 
that it would be exceedingly difficult for an 
aeroplanist to make good practice with his bombs, from 
the height at which he would have to fly in order to 
be comparatively safe from gun-fire, and also in view 
of the fact that both he, and his target, would be 
moving. 

In this connection, however, there is much to be 
learned. It is not known, as yet, how powerful a 
bomb may be devised for the use of a destructive 
aeroplane; and, from the point of view of 
marksmanship with such missiles, types of releasing apparatus 
are now being devised which may ensure greater 
accuracy of aim than is at present considered possible. 

A use for the naval aeroplane would be to 
cooperate with warships in attack upon land defences. 
A number of machines could be launched from the 
deck of the parent ship, and fly over docks and 
harbours, dropping incendiary and explosive bombs, 
and effecting considerable damage. 

Another effective field for the use of naval 
aeroplanes should be in detecting the approach of 
submarines; but, in this regard, more data is certainly 
required. 

Primarily for scouting, both from the land, and 
from a ship at sea, and also as a weapon of 
offence—if used in sufficient numbers—the aeroplane merits 
the careful attention of all naval authorities. In 
England, at the time of writing, very little has been 
done. A few naval officers have had an opportunity 
of learning to fly, owing to private generosity, and 
unimportant experiments have been made. 

A very large sum of money has, however, been 
expended by the Admiralty upon a huge dirigible 
balloon, 500 feet long, which, after undergoing a 
tedious period of construction and alteration at 
Barrow, met with the untimely end of being wrecked 
by wind-gusts before it had ever taken the air. 

In January, however, it was stated, more or less 
officially, that the Admiralty intended to devote 
serious attention, during 1912, to the question of 
naval airmanship; but, beyond arranging for another 
party of officers to learn to fly at Eastchurch, Isle of 
Sheppey, nothing definite has, at the time of writing, 
been done—save that it is understood that the 
Admiralty has committed itself to the construction of 
a smaller, rigid-type airship. 

For naval work, beyond doubt, the powerful, 
high-speed aeroplane, capable of making progress against 
very strong winds, and sufficiently portable to be 
carried in appreciable numbers upon a 
specially-designed parent ship, is the ideal—with another 
type of aircraft, larger, and with a greater radius of 
action, to act as a scout from land defences. 

*NOTE*

*Since the above was written, our Naval authorities 
have decided to train forty airmen and to purchase a 
dozen experimental machines, including 
hydro-aeroplanes of various makes.*

SIXTEENTH SECTION AERIAL WORK IN THE FRENCH AND GERMAN AUTUMN MANOEUVRES, 1911
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

\I. French successes—Proof of the value of organisation—Flights in high winds. 
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Previously we have dealt with the remarkable 
results obtained, from the first use of aeroplanes, in 
the autumn manœuvres in France, in 1910. Now 
we have an opportunity of describing the fruits of a 
year's progress, as shown in the triumphs achieved 
during the autumn operations in 1911. Nothing 
could, indeed, be more encouraging to the French 
authorities than this one year's work. 

By the time the autumn manœuvres of 1911 came 
along, there were eighteen military air-stations in 
various parts of France, and a preliminary 
organisation of much interest had been created. It was 
decided, therefore, to make a far more thorough and 
drastic test of the value of the aeroplanes in war than 
had been attempted in 1910. Thirty machines, 
comprising biplanes and monoplanes, and representing 
aircraft of the principal makes, were detailed to 
co-operate with the manoeuvring forces. They were 
divided into equal corps, and were instructed to 
operate with the Commanders-in-Chief of the two 
forces. 

The importance of the results obtained lay, very 
largely, in the successful use of the adjuncts to the 
air service, which had been organised during the 
flying season of 1911. The military aeroplanists 
established their camps near the Headquarters of the 
troops they were serving, and collapsible sheds, for 
their machines, were brought up on special 
motor-lorries. 

A striking feature of the organisation, also, was 
the travelling "atelier," or workshop. These vehicles, 
huge motor-vans, with a skilled staff in attendance, 
were here, there, and everywhere. Their equipment 
included tools capable of dealing with any 
break-down, large or small. 

All the practice work carried out during the 
summer, at the various military schools, bore fruit. 
The airmen knew their work and their machines; 
the observers had made themselves thoroughly 
proficient in their duties; and the mechanics were quick 
and competent. And it is such details as these, as 
has been said, that spell success in aerial work. 

Naturally the question arises, "What did the 
air-men do?" The answer may, truthfully, be made 
comprehensive. They did everything—everything, 
that is, that was asked of them. The officers of both 
manoeuvring forces were amazed at the accuracy of 
the reconnoitring reports brought in. 

Another feature of the military airmen's work was 
represented by the adverse weather conditions in 
which they flew. Here was a distinct and 
unmistakable evidence of progress. In 1910, at the 
autumn manœuvres, a wind of from twenty to 
twenty-five miles an hour had been the limit in 
which pilots had cared to ascend. But, in the 1911 
manœuvres, reconnoitring machines were boldly 
taken up in winds of as great a velocity as thirty 
and thirty-five miles an hour; and, in one or two 
cases, machines were reported to have weathered 
winds blowing at the rate of forty miles an hour. 

From the military point of view, the actual 
demonstration of this wind-flying capacity of the modern 
aeroplane was of the utmost value. It meant that 
there was practically no delay in carrying out 
instructions. Instead of waiting, as he would have been 
obliged to do, occasionally, the previous year, before 
carrying out a reconnoitring flight, the airman was 
promptly in his machine, and away—despite the 
fact that a strong and gusty wind might be blowing. 

Another point demonstrated, beyond question, 
was the reliability of aeroplane engines. Pilot after 
pilot returned from aerial journeys without any 
mechanical trouble whatever; engine failure, at first 
so common a fault, was proved to have been almost 
eliminated. 

It was not merely a case of engine improvement; 
the careful work of the mechanics, in "tuning up" 
the motors, had a great deal to do with this immunity 
from breakdown. Such a proof of reliability was, as 
may be imagined, of great significance to those who 
were gauging the work of the aeroplane purely from, 
the military point of view. 

Practice, as has been said, permitted the 
observers in the reconnoitring aeroplanes to obtain 
significant results. A test which was carried out, 
purely to determine the accuracy of aerial 
observation, is worth describing. In this case, a fortified 
position, some little distance away from one of the 
aeroplane camps, had been largely redesigned. The 
officer in charge of the aeroplanes decided to call 
upon three observers, who knew nothing of the 
alterations to the position which had been carried 
out, to make a reconnoitring flight over the spot, and 
prepare rough maps showing the location of the 
defences. This, he thought, would provide a severe 
test of the accuracy of each officer's observation. 

Previous to sending away the three machines upon 
their errand, the officer had obtained, from the 
Commander of the fortifications, an exact plan of the 
new defences; he was, therefore, in a position to 
check, even in details, the maps furnished by the 
air-scouts. 

The three airmen who set out upon this special 
reconnoitring mission, each carrying an observer 
with him, approached their destination by different 
routes. Each, as he came near the fortified position 
he was to reconnoitre, flew at an altitude of more 
than 3000 feet—the height specified as being fairly 
safe from artillery-fire. 

All three observers did their work, making brief 
notes, and rough maps, as they flew over the 
fortifications. One of them, using a special camera with 
a telephoto lens, secured a series of photographs 
from a height of 4000 feet. 

But the point of the test was this: when the three 
observers had returned safely to their starting-point, 
their reports and maps were compared with the exact 
details of the fortifications, which were in the hands 
of the Commander of the air-corps. 

The result was instructive. Without any previous 
knowledge of the changes which had been made in 
the fortifications reconnoitred, the three observers had 
been able to indicate, with clearness, the position 
of all the defences. From their material, indeed, it 
was found possible to prepare a map which 
corresponded with that previously provided by the officer 
in charge of the fortifications. 

The test was considered a very effective one. It 
showed that an aerial observer could—even when 
at a considerable altitude—carry out a reconnaissance 
with accuracy, and prepare maps which could 
compare favourably with those drawn up at leisure, and 
as a result of detailed survey work carried out on 
the spot. 

As regards the reconnoitring flights carried out 
by the officer-airmen during the manœuvres, there 
is not a great deal to be said, for the reason that 
they were uniformly successful. The 
Commanders-in-Chief stated what they required, and the airmen 
carried out their orders. 

With the information thus provided for them, 
both Commanders-in-Chief found it necessary, more 
than once, to alter their plans. 

Not one day, but practically every day, the airmen 
were able to carry out their appointed tasks, and their 
work of reconnaissance became an adjunct which 
could be definitely relied upon. 

II. Work in the German manœuvres—An instance of the utility of air-scouts—Reconnoitring from high altitudes.
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In the German autumn manœuvres, 1911, the 
aeroplane may be said to have made its first 
practical appearance in connection with military 
operations in this country; and, here again, complete 
success marked the tests. One instance, regarding 
these German manœuvres, is forthcoming of the 
manner in which vitally-important information may 
be obtained by reconnoitring airmen. 

The Commander of the Red forces, suspecting 
some definite move on the part of his enemy on a 
certain morning, sent out several aerial observers. 
They performed a successful flight, and returned 
quickly with the information that a large body of the 
Blue troops was beginning to advance against the 
Red right. 

Taking instant action, upon the receipt of this 
intelligence, the Red Commander pushed forward a 
very large body of men to a point of strategic 
importance, and so was able to checkmate, very neatly, 
the advance of the Blue troops. 

The German military authorities, although led to 
expect much from scouting aeroplanes, were 
surprised by the results which were, in actual practice, 
obtained. One after another, in fact, the military 
experts who were following the manœuvres were 
forced to declare that it would be almost hopeless, 
in future operations, to hide the movements of troops 
from the air-scouts of an enemy. 

It was, of course, recognised that this only applied 
to fairly clear weather, in which the observers could 
obtain their bird's-eye view of the land below them. 
In thick mist, or fog, it would admittedly be useless 
to send out air-scouts. But such weather conditions, 
although encountered with some frequency, do not, 
as a rule, last for long. After a few hours' delay, 
while waiting for a fog or mist to clear, the airmen 
should be able to carry out their work. 

What actually happened, in the German 
manœuvres, was this: by 8 a.m. on the morning of 
the first day of the operations, each side had sent up 
its observing aeroplanes, and had obtained a 
concise report as to the position of the enemy's forces. 
This result was, naturally, claimed to be a complete 
triumph for the aeroplane, particularly seeing that 
such traps as sham entrenchments had been 
prepared to deceive the airmen—but without succeeding 
in their object. 

Here, indeed, lay another illustration of the 
growing skill of aerial observers. In the manœuvres of 
1910, when observation officers were new to their 
work, they had been deceived, on several occasions, 
by dummy entrenchments; but in 1911—a year 
later—they made no mistakes of this kind. Their 
observation powers had been perfected by innumerable 
practice flights—proof of the value of constant work 
at the flying schools. 

Another feature of the work achieved in these 
autumn manœuvres of 1911 was particularly worthy 
of note, also. This was the altitudes at which the 
reconnoitring aeroplanes carried out their 
observations. In 1910, the criticism had been freely passed 
that the machines would have been blown to pieces, 
in actual war, had they passed over troops while 
flying so near the ground. 

As a matter of fact, being so new to their work, and 
not having great experience in the difficult duties of 
aerial reconnaissance, some of the airmen in the 1910 
manœuvres were, undoubtedly, flying too near the 
ground. A height of a little over 1000 feet, which 
they maintained, would, almost surely, be perilous in 
times of war. 

But, in the 1911 operations, this was changed. 
The minimum height at which any of the scouting 
aircraft flew, when near the enemy, either in the 
French or German manœuvres, was 2000 feet. 
Generally speaking, the altitudes maintained were 
from 2500 to 3000 feet; and, in some cases, the 
airmen flew even higher than this. 

This increase in altitude, so necessary in escaping 
an enemy's gun-fire, did not in any way affect the 
accuracy of the news obtained by the air-scouts. 
It was, indeed, proved beyond question that reports 
of complete reliability might be obtained from the 
altitudes mentioned. 

Opinion was naturally divided as to the question 
of the vulnerability of the aeroplanes to gun-fire. 
But unbiased observers, noting the height at which 
the aeroplanes flew, and the speed at which they 
came into range and disappeared again, were found 
to declare that special artillery, however cleverly 
handled, would have its work cut out to make 
anything like effective practice. 

The destructive possibilities of the aeroplane were 
not demonstrated in these manœuvres of 1911. 
That, perhaps, will be left to the operations to be 
held in the autumn of 1912. And, still remaining 
unsolved, of course, is the question of war in the 
air between rival air-fleets. 

In the case of the 1911 German manœuvres, for 
instance, this problem of offensive work has 
particular interest. Both manoeuvring forces sent out their 
scouts, and each side obtained detailed reports 
concerning the doings of the other side. The two 
Commanders-in-Chief were, therefore, upon an equality, 
so far as their aerial observations were concerned. 

In actual warfare, probably, this would not have 
been the case. The two air-fleets would have come 
into contact; and it is probable that one of them 
would have suffered more severely than the other, 
with the result that its subsequent reconnoitring work 
would have become inferior to that of the squadron 
which had triumphed in the fighting. 

III. Aeroplanes in actual warfare—What Italian airmen accomplished in Tripoli—Scouting and bomb-dropping under service conditions. 
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While referring to the operations carried out 
during the autumn of 1911, it is certainly necessary 
to refer to the first war test—made by the Italians in 
their Tripoli campaign—of the aeroplane as a 
reconnoitring instrument. 

What was done in Tripoli, although not on a 
large scale, was, none the less, instructive; and 
there is little doubt but that the success achieved by 
the Italian military airmen, under arduous service 
conditions, had much to do with the decision of the 
authorities in England to make a definite move with 
regard to airmanship. 

The circumstances in Tripoli were these: the 
Italians held the town, with their troops in a sort of 
half-moon formation, and with unknown forces of 
Turks and Arabs moving about on the desert, 
inland, and threatening unexpected attacks at all points. 

Obviously, the business of the air-scouts was to 
reconnoitre as wide a tract of desert as possible,
and endeavour to obtain news as to the movements, 
and particularly the numbers, of the enemy which 
menaced the Italian position. 

Several Blériot monoplanes, and an Etrich 
monoplane, were, at first, at the disposal of the Italian 
Commander-in-Chief. Later on, quite a large 
number of machines, many of them handled by 
civilian volunteers, were on the scene. The 
scouting machines were employed to the best possible 
advantage. Trouble, it is interesting to note, was 
at first experienced in connection with the engines. 
Sand from the desert worked into valves and 
bearings. This was one of those little practical difficulties 
which are only encountered under actual service 
conditions. 

The courage of the officer-airmen, in carrying out 
scouting flights, was marked. They flew over the 
Turkish and Arab lines. Had their engines failed 
them at a critical moment, and they had descended 
among a horde of wild Arabs, there is little doubt 
but that their plight would have been uncommonly 
awkward. 

Working, generally, soon after dawn, the airmen 
made wide, sweeping half-circles over the enemy's 
positions, and brought back detailed and practical 
reports concerning the disposition, and movements, 
of all the bodies of men they saw. More than once 
they were able to provide the Italian Commander 
with accurate and very valuable information 
regarding the sudden moving up, and massing, of large 
bodies of the enemy. The Italians were, in 
consequence, ready for an attack when it was delivered. 

Hurriedly sent to the front, and working under a 
good many difficulties, it was, indeed, remarkable 
what the military pilots were able to do. They made 
a large number of flights without any untoward 
incident—beyond that of being fired on, 
spasmodically, by Turkish and Arab foemen. 

The effect of this fire was, it is interesting to note, 
practically nil. The wings of the monoplanes were, 
it was reported, pierced more than once by bullets, 
but this had no adverse effect upon the machines; 
although, in one instance, an observer was reported 
to have been slightly wounded. 

There was, of course, no artillery, with special 
guns, to test its ability in bringing down the 
scouting machines. Practical data, concerning what a 
specially-made aerial gun can do, will only be 
forthcoming when an army with more up-to-date 
equipment than that of Turkey is circled over by 
reconnoitring machines. 

In connection with the Etrich monoplane used in 
Tripoli a test was made, on one occasion, with 
bombs. A number of small explosive bombs were 
carried up in the machine, and the officer-pilot 
dropped them over some parties of the enemy. The 
report, regarding these tests, was that damage had 
been done by the bombs; but exact details are 
wanting. The experiment cannot be regarded as 
a conclusive one, or as one illustrating in any 
striking way the destructive capabilities of the 
aeroplane. 

The value of the lesson taught by the Tripoli 
operations cannot, however, be overestimated. 
Sent out to the front like any other part of the 
army's equipment, the aeroplanes were assembled 
quickly, and flown successfully by their 
pilots—amply justifying their inclusion in the scheme of 
affairs by the extremely valuable work they were able 
to accomplish. 

What the Tripoli flying certainly demonstrated 
was the value of the scouting aeroplane when used 
in difficult, or inaccessible country. In the future, 
when a force has to penetrate some awkward and 
hostile region, in which land scouting is almost 
impossible, and a lurking enemy has to be located, the 
work of an aerial reconnoitring officer will be of 
outstanding importance. 

Rather more from this point of view, than from 
that of any lesson as to the value of aeroplanes in 
operations between two scientifically-armed 
European nations, should the use of machines in the 
Tripoli campaign be regarded. 

IV. A final word—Conclusions to be arrived at—Problems outstanding. 
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

In view of the most recent tests which may be 
described, the war aeroplane stands in the following 
position: for scouting work it has, both in 1910, and 
again with far greater force in 1911, proved its value 
in a way that cannot be denied. Its destructive 
potentialities, although clearly apparent, have not 
yet been demonstrated in a practical way. That, as 
has been said, should remain a matter for definite 
experiment in 1912. 

There remain two problems which may be said to 
be outstanding. One of them is the effect which 
gun-fire will have upon the aeroplane; and the other 
concerns the result of the actual fighting which must 
inevitably take place, between hostile aircraft, when 
they meet under conditions of war. 

As to the former, a reader may be able to judge, 
more or less, from what has been written in previous 
sections. Experiments, for what they are worth, 
have been in favour of the aeroplane. In the future, 
too, it will have increasing speed to help it. That 
it can fly 3000 feet high, and carry out its 
reconnoitring work efficiently, has been demonstrated. 

The wise view to take of this question, in 
consideration of the most recent data, is that a certain 
percentage of war aeroplanes will fall victims to 
gunfire, but that this percentage will be a very small 
one, and that it will be in no way sufficient to mar 
the success of the work that a squadron of air-scouts 
will be able to undertake. 

The suggestion is now made that, in order to 
secure some conclusive results, power-driver 
aeroplanes, without occupants, should be made to ascend, 
and be directed on a pre-arranged course, while 
subjected to artillery-fire. Such a method would 
be costly, however; but it might certainly yield 
remarkably interesting data. 

Then there is the question of hostilities between 
aircraft, to which several references have been made. 
Here, again, theory has to take the place of practice. 
It is perfectly certain that, as machines cross from 
their own lines to those of the enemy, engagements 
will take place between them and hostile 
craft—which will seek to check them in their aerial 
spying. 

.. figure:: images/Image17.jpg
   :figclass: white-space-pre-line
   :scale: 85 %
   :alt: TRAVELLING WORKSHOP.
   
   TRAVELLING WORKSHOP.
   Photo, M. Branger.
   In the French manœuvres, a completely-equipped aeroplane repair shop, in the form of a motor-wagon, followed the military airmen as they moved from point to point. One of these invaluable "ateliers" is pictured above.

That special fighting machines will be built is 
practically certain, also; and it is probable that, in 
wars of the future, engagements between these aerial 
opponents will precede reconnoitring work. How 
such flights in the air will end it is, however, difficult 
to predict. If some form of light explosive shell is 
fired, one well-placed shot will probably wreck a 
machine, or render it unmanageable. An aerial duel 
promises to be over quickly. The skill will, no 
doubt, lie in getting in the first shot, and in making 
that an accurate one. 

Although, in some respects, the future is 
obscure, there is, upon one important point, most 
definite data to proceed upon. This is that the 
aeroplane is an instrument which will entirely change 
military reconnaissance. 

"We are in the presence of a new and formidable 
science that will revolutionise warfare." So spoke 
Colonel Seely, Parliamentary Under-Secretary of 
State for War, at a special gathering of the 
Aeronautical Society on 18th December, 1911. 

At the moment, all other problems are subservient 
to this: whatever its destructive powers may prove 
to be, and whatever may be the result of well-directed 
artillery-fire upon aerial scouts, no great nation can 
afford to neglect this new weapon. 

If any country dare to do so, and others go ahead, 
then the nation which lags behind will stand in 
imminent peril in war-time. It may have a fine army, 
or a great fleet, but if it does not possess aeroplanes, 
and its opponent has them, it will be at a very serious 
disadvantage. 

This point is no longer a matter of any 
supposition. It has been proved, beyond all question. It 
was, as a matter of fact, proved in 1910, and it was 
proved again in 1911. It needs no further proof. 
The aeroplane has shown what it can do, not in easy 
experiments, but under rigorous test conditions. 

If our War Office buys a few more foreign 
machines, and makes a small stir at our military 
school on Salisbury Plain, that cannot be regarded 
as any serious step towards making up our leeway. 
The whole problem needs taking in hand in a way 
that England has not yet done. 

Military flying is not a thing to be trifled with, or 
played at; France and Germany realise this. In 
1912 they will be spending far more money upon 
aviation than they did in 1911. Germany, as an 
instance of determined purpose, intends to amplify, 
to the extent of £100,000, the grant for military 
aviation. They will be increasing their air-fleets, 
gaining in experience, and preparing themselves for 
that use of aircraft, on a very large scale, which so 
many experts are ready to predict will be the ultimate 
development. 

So, with each improvement that the aeroplane 
makes, the peril of inactivity grows. Not only the 
action of foreign nations, but the warnings of 
far-seeing military experts in our own country, have 
pointed to the danger of a policy of "wait and see." 

Aeroplanes, and men constantly using them—that 
is what we need. Money must be spent, not 
extravagantly, but ungrudgingly. There must be 
practical encouragement. 

Both in the Army and Navy it has been shown 
that we have men, ready and eager for air work, 
who win compare favourably, in point of skill and 
resource, with the pick of the air-corps of foreign 
countries. 

We spend millions, willingly, upon other forms 
of armament. All that is required is that we 
should spend thousands—in the right way—upon 
aeroplanes. 

Finally, it is possible to summarise, briefly, such 
points and suggestions, concerning the use of war 
aeroplanes, as represent the most recent 
pronouncements of international experts upon this difficult 
problem. 

It is now urged that machines would need to 
reconnoitre at night, seeing that important movements 
of troops are made under cover of darkness. In this 
regard, although it is probable that an airman would 
be able even at night, by flying low, to detect large 
bodies of men, further data is necessary in the way 
of practical tests. 

For a scouting expedition of unusual 
importance—in which the safe return of the aeroplane is a point 
subservient to all others—it is held that a machine 
equipped with a dual engine-plant ought to be used, 
so that, should one motor fail, the pilot could 
fly on with the power of the other. Experiments 
with machines so equipped have already been 
undertaken. 

A subsidiary, but practical use of a weight-carrying 
machine, during the course of an action, is suggested 
in the carrying of ammunition, when urgently 
required, from point to point. 

The silencing of engines—previously referred 
to—and the fitting of all machines with dual control, 
so that, should the pilot be wounded, the observer 
can instantly assume control of the machine, are 
points now urged as being essential. 

Protecting the vital parts of a fighting machine, 
with some form of light armour, is advocated; and it 
is emphasised that, for a scouting craft, flexibility of 
speed would be invaluable, seeing that, with an 
aeroplane capable of reducing its pace, the scouting 
officer should be able to amplify the detail of his 
observations. 

By way of a final word, this much may be said: 
the flying season of 1912 will, beyond all doubt, yield 
results of the utmost significance in the further 
development of aircraft for military and naval use. 

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THE NORTHUMBERLAND PRESS, THORNTON STREET, NEWCASTLE-UPON-TYNE 

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