HE AIR 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
AEROPLANES AND DIRIGIBLES OF WAR. 
 By F. A. TALBOT. 8vo. 35. 6d. net. 
 
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 LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN. 
 
THE 
 WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 BY 
 
 EDGAR C. MIDDLETON 
 
 ("AN AIR PILOT") 
 
 LATE FLIGHT SUB-LIEUT., R.N. ; AUTHOR OF "AIRCRAFT 
 
 LONDON 
 
 WILLIAM HEINEMANN 
 
IDe&fcatfon 
 
 TO THE MEMORY OF FRIENDS 
 WHO HAVE FALLEN IN THE GREAT FIGHT 
 
 CAPTAIN ADRIAN LIDDELL, V.C., R.F.C. 
 
 FLIGHT SUB-LIEUT. R. A. J. WARNEFORD, V.C., R.N. 
 
 FLIGHT LIEUT. ROSHER, R.N. 
 
 FLIGHT LIEUT. TALBOT, R.N. 
 
 FLIGHT LIEUT. GRAHAM, R.N. 
 
 FLIGHT COMMANDER BEARD, R.N. 
 
 CAPTAIN BASIL HALLAM RADFORD, R.F.C. 
 
 AND 
 
 SECOND-LIEUT. ARTHUR FISHER, R.F.C. 
 
 "WHO FOUND GLORY ONLY BECAUSE 
 
 GLORY LAY IN THE PLAIN PATH OF DUTY" 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED 
 
 London : William Heincmann, 
 
AUTHOR'S NOTE 
 
 THE idea of this little book is to give as clear 
 and graphic a description of modern aviation as 
 circumstances will permit; of the new heroic race 
 of men to which Flying has given birth; of the 
 conditions under, and the elements in, which their 
 work is carried out, and the difficulties and dangers 
 they have to encounter. Flying is essentially a 
 profession for the younger generation. The strain 
 is too great for men of more mature years. To 
 withstand such strain requires all the vigour, the 
 klessness, the iron nerve of youth. It is a 
 ofession that offers an irresistible appeal to 
 e healthy-minded, sport-loving youth of Great 
 tain, to whom adventure is the nectar of 
 existence. 
 
 The writer's chief endeavour in the opening 
 chapters has been to help the young man who 
 wishes to adopt " Flying " as a profession. Part 
 I of the book is composed of a collection of 
 incidents taken from the diary of an air pilot on 
 Active Service somewhere in the North of France. 
 They are given in their original form. I also wish 
 
VI 
 
 AUTHOR'S NOTE 
 
 to thank the editors of the Daily Mail, Daily 
 Express, Daily Chronicle, Evening News, and 
 Boys' Friend for their courtesy in permitting me 
 to use,, in a few instances, material embodied in 
 articles appearing in their journals. 
 
 E. CM 
 
 London, 
 

 CONTENTS 
 
 PART I 
 THE SERVICE AIRMAN IN THE MAKING 
 
 CHAP PAGE 
 
 AUTHOR'S NOTE ..... Y 
 
 INTRODUCTION. ..... 3 
 
 I. JOINING THE SERVICE IO 
 ii. THE AIRMAN'S FIRST DAYS . . -17 
 
 III. THE INITIAL FLIGHT .... 23 
 
 IV. THE PERILS OF THE AIR .... 28 
 V. THE SPIRIT OF THE AIR .... 34 
 
 VI. SEAPLANES ...... 40 
 
 VII. A ZEPPELIN CHASE ..... 48 
 
 VIII. THE COMPLETE AIRMAN .... 53 
 
 PART II 
 ON ACTIVE SERVICE 
 
 IX. BEHIND THE FIRING LINE 6l 
 
 X. THE FIRST TRIP ACROSS THE LINE . . 66 
 
 XI. SOME ANECDOTES ..... 74 
 
 XII. SPORT EXTRAORDINARY . . . 8 1 
 
 XIII. A BALLOON-TRIP BY NIGHT ... 85 
 
viii CONTENTS 
 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 XIV. THE BATTLE OF THE WOOD ... 92 
 
 XV. A TIGHT CORNER . . . . 97 
 
 XVI. AN AIR FIGHT WITH A HUN . . . 108 
 
 XVII. THE GREAT RAID ON ZEEBRUGGE . .114 
 
 XVIII. A DAY-DREAM . . . . . .123 
 
 XIX. A MID-AIR BATTLE . . . . .127 
 
 XX. A BATTLE FROM ABOVE . . . .132 
 
 XXI. A TRUE STORY OF THE WAR . . .136 
 
 XXII. HEROISM IN THE AIR . . . .144 
 
 
 PART III 
 OTHER CRAFT AND THE FUTURE 
 
 XXIII. THE EVOLUTION OF THE AIRSHIP 
 
 XXIV. LAWS OF THE AIR . . . . . 160 
 XXV. AERIAL COMBAT 165 
 
 XXVI. THE AIR THE WAR AND AFTER . .169 
 
 
PART I 
 THE SERVICE AIRMAN IN THE MAKING 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 IN writing of modern aviation it is to be re- 
 gretted that the sport or science, call it what you 
 will, was developed more in two years by the war 
 than would have been possible in twenty-two 
 years under normal conditions. Prior to 1914 we 
 did not look upon aircraft and aviation with the 
 degree of interest that their useful qualities war- 
 ranted. Instead we were apt to regard them rather 
 in the manner of a sporting spectacle, in much the 
 same light as a football match, or a boxing enter- 
 tainment, or as the piece de resistance of the show- 
 men; thus aircraft, the greatest and most potential 
 discovery of all the ages, had to prove their worth 
 in the maiming of humanity and the destruction 
 of property. 
 
 Quietly and unobtrusively they were introduced 
 
 into the plans of war; it must be admitted greatly 
 
 despised and with a strong feeling of repugnance. 
 
 Gradually so gradually as almost to be unnoticed 
 
 they began to prove their worth. 
 
 From the very first days of the war it began to 
 be realised that we must have aircraft. Our large 
 Navy was in desperate need of seaplanes to hunt the 
 enemy warships from their lairs and his merchant- 
 men from the seas. In the same way our tiny 
 Army required aeroplanes, but for a somewhat 
 
 3 
 
4 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 different reason : to be prepared against all enemy 
 surprises, which in those desperate days of early 
 1914 would have been fatal. 
 
 As the war developed, the various belligerents 
 began to settle down, to restore order from the 
 chaos, and to prepare for a long and arduous cam- 
 paign. Then the cry came for aircraft, more and 
 more aircraft. In England the great engineering 
 shops and factories were peremptorily ordered by 
 the Government to abandon their work and to 
 construct aeroplanes as fast as they were able. 
 Meanwhile the enemy, who had long been pre- 
 pared, began to obtain an overwhelming mastery 
 of the air it will always remain a mystery why he 
 did not use his aircraft to better effect at Mons 
 and the Marne. After four and six months, fresh 
 craft came out from England, and it was then the 
 enemy, in his turn, was driven from the air. For 
 some time we were allowed to retain that mastery, 
 then the enemy came along with a rush with the 
 new and powerful Albatross and Aviatik, and again 
 we retired into the background for a time. Mean- 
 while^ aeroplane factories were springing up all 
 over the country, and the production of machines 
 was going up by leaps and bounds; undeniable 
 proof this of the value such craft were to the 
 military commanders. Thus the mad race went 
 on. Fast, graceful, single-seater scouts, slower 
 and larger reconnaissance craft; huge, powerful- 
 
INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 engined battle-planes made their appearance in 
 quantities hitherto undreamt of, and were de- 
 spatched in never-ending stream across the Channel, 
 there to play their part in the war. 
 
 Dipping into the past, it may be said that by 
 1784 flight by balloon was well under way, and 
 that year a woman Madame Thible made a trip 
 in the presence of King Gustavus III of Sweden, 
 that lasted three-quarters of an hour. She reached 
 an altitude of 9000 feet. The following year the 
 first cross-channel trip was made by Blanchard, 
 with an American doctor named Jefferies for pas- 
 senger, together with a supply of provisions and 
 ballast. This weighed the balloon down to so 
 great an extent that she almost sank into the sea 
 a few moments after starting. Ballast was thrown 
 overboard and she rose, only to sink down again. 
 Hurriedly more ballast was dropped, but it had 
 no effect, and was followed by everything on which 
 the aeronauts could lay their hands, including 
 provisions, books and a mass of correspondence. 
 At last the French coast loomed into view, but the 
 balloon was now sinking rapidly. The wings were 
 thrown overboard, but that had no effect. The 
 aeronauts commenced to strip themselves of their 
 clothing. Then Jefferies proposed to jump over 
 the side into the water, and was about to do so, 
 when the balloon rose suddenly into the air, and 
 they landed on the hills behind Calais. 
 
 
THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 Aircraft played a great part in the Franco- 
 Prussian war, and during the siege of Paris alone 
 as many as 66 balloons left the stricken city, carry- 
 ing 60 pilots, 1 02 passengers, 409 carrier pigeons, 
 9 tons of letters and telegrams, and 6 dogs. Five 
 of the dogs were sent back to Paris, but were lost 
 and never heard of again, while 57 of the carrier 
 pigeons carried 100,000 messages. Of the 66 
 balloons 58 got through, 5 fell into German hands, 
 and 2 into the sea. 
 
 Among the more historical trips is that of 
 Gaston Tissandier, who went over the German 
 lines, and dropped 10,000 copies of a proclamation 
 addressed to the soldiers, asking for peace, yet 
 declaring that France would fight to the bitter end. 
 
 In South Africa an observation balloon was in 
 use at Ladysmith for twenty-nine days, doing 
 extremely useful work in spotting the Boer artil- 
 lery. The pilot of an observation balloon reported 
 the enemy's position on Spionkop to be impreg- 
 nable, and, at Paardeberg, another disclosed the 
 precise position of Cronje's force and directed our 
 artillery fire thereon. 
 
 Of all the Great Powers, Italy is more respon- 
 sible, perhaps, than any other for the evolution of 
 aircraft. From the sixteenth century the most 
 accomplished Italian scientists have given their 
 attention to the solving of the riddle of the air. 
 Such names as Leonardo da Vinci and Fausto 
 
INTRODUCTION 7 
 
 Varanzio stand out prominently in the history of 
 aviation; and to-day the Italian rigid airships are 
 the best in the world. It was, however, mainly 
 due to the efforts of two Frenchmen that pro- 
 minence was first given to aircraft. Joseph and 
 Stephen Montgolfier were the sons of a rich paper- 
 maker of Annoney, and the story goes that, while 
 rowing, Stephen's silk coat fell overboard into the 
 water. When drying the coat it was noticed that 
 the hot air tended to make it rise, and the upshot 
 of the affair was the Montgolfier balloon. Since 
 those days France has devoted herself almost en- 
 tirely to the development of aeroplanes, which are 
 second only to those of German manufacture. To 
 the latter power honour, however unwilling, must 
 be given as regards aircraft. On the outbreak of 
 war her aeroplanes were the finest in the world, and 
 her Zeppelins were beyond comparison. Great 
 Britain possessed an advantageous lead in the 
 matter of aeroplanes. 
 
 The development of aviation in this country 
 was mainly due to the untiring efforts of the Royal 
 Aero Club affiliated to the Federation Aeronique 
 International; and the splendid encouragement 
 of the proprietors of the Daily Mail, who gener- 
 ously put aside an aggregate sum of ,37,000 
 towards prize-money for aeronautical events. The 
 Federation Aeronique had already branches in 
 America, Argentine, Austria, Belgium, Britain, 
 
8 
 
 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 Denmark, France, Germany, Holland, Hungary, 
 Italy, Norway, Portugal, Russia, Spain, Sweden, 
 Switzerland. In England the R.A.C. controlled 
 every matter connected with aviation, such as the 
 arranging and governing of competitions, the 
 granting of pilots' certificates, and the ruling of the 
 air. Up to August, 19 14, they had already granted 
 926 certificates, of which 863 were aeroplane, 24 
 airship and 39 aeronaut (balloon). The first of 
 their competitions for the Britannia Challenge 
 Trophy was carried off by Captain C. A. N. Long- 
 croft, R.F.C., in 1913 with a flight from Montrose 
 to Farnborough via Portsmouth, a distance in a 
 direct line of 445 miles. It was the R.A.C. that 
 arranged the Daily Mail competitions, several of 
 which have yet to be carried out, including the 
 1 0,000 Cross- Atlantic (by aeroplane) . The Daily 
 Mail International Cross-country flight for ^1000 
 was won by Louis Ble*riot, July 25, 1909: it is 
 needless to remark that this flight has now become 
 an everyday occurrence. The ,10,000 London 
 to Manchester flight was awarded to Louis Paulhan 
 (France). The second ; 10,000 circuit of Britain 
 of 1010 miles was carried off by Andre Beaumont; 
 and J. T. C. Brabazon was successful in the 
 National Dally Mail 1000 for a flight of one 
 mile in an All British machine. 
 
 The highest altitude that had been reached in 
 Great Britain was 14,920 feet; the greatest distance 
 
INTRODUCTION 9 
 
 flown 287 miles; and the longest duration 8 hours 
 23 minutes. 
 
 Whether we were prepared for the war is a 
 matter for too extensive a discussion for this little 
 book, but the fact remains that the number of 
 firms engaged in the manufacturing of aeroplanes 
 could be counted on both hands, and that we were 
 without a useful and reliable engine of British 
 construction. 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 JOINING THE SERVICE 
 
 THE Air Service is young, very young; it is like 
 an overgrown schoolboy, strong, healthy and ful) 
 of life, but lacking just that sense of proportion 
 that distinguishes the schoolboy from the man. 
 It is wise, for it is endowed with the wisdom of 
 initiative, courage and resource. Turned loose 
 into an entirely novel and little understood ele- 
 ment, it has had to create its own methods of 
 procedure, its own ideals, its own traditions. 
 Reference to the policies and the formulas of past 
 generations are impossible, for there are none! 
 
 The main principles of aerial warfare are en- 
 tirely new; in every combat, and in every raid, 
 some precedent is established, some new form or 
 theory of attack is set up. - To the airman every 
 day is alike. In times of peace he risks his neck 
 as much as he does in time of war, save that 
 engaged in the latter he has the additional un- 
 pleasantness of shell fire. He willingly gives all, 
 but asks for nothing. He is the knight-errant of 
 the twentieth century. 
 
 IO 
 
JOINING THE SERVICE n 
 
 In days of the past, it was the cavalryman, 
 wounded and galloping across country, with a 
 hundred foemen hard at his heels, who first brought 
 news of the enemy to the general in command. 
 His was a pleasant occupation, that smacked largely 
 of daring and romance. He stood an excellent 
 chance of getting a bullet through his lungs, or of 
 being clapped into an enemy prison. To-day 
 there comes flying across the heavens a resolute 
 young hero, in a few feet of wood and fabric, 
 throwing defiance to shot and shell alike, suspended 
 thousands of feet up between heaven and earth, 
 peering from that swaying aeroplane at the pano- 
 rama of the earth beneath. 
 
 This is the age of science and invention. War 
 on and over the earth, on and under the sea. For 
 many years we have steadily been putting behind 
 us the barbarities of our forbears, we have become 
 more civilised, and, though more civilised, more 
 barbarous. This is no paradox; science has made 
 great and wonderful strides, but science has been 
 more devilishly ingenious than any torture of 
 Spanish Inquisition days. 
 
 The airmen who pilot their frail craft over hill 
 and valley, sea and land, across cloud and through 
 fog and mist, are the privateers of modern times; 
 but for them there can be no capture, no quarter : 
 only victory or a thousand feet drop to the cruel 
 earth below. Through their young veins must 
 
12 
 
 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 flow the blood of a Drake, of a Philip Sidney, oi 
 Nelson. Theirs must be the courage of a con- 
 queror, the heart of a lion, the nerve of a colossus. 
 
 No bounded ocean is their sea, but the infinity 
 of space. The ship's compass is their best friend; 
 for they manoeuvre their craft like a ship at sea. 
 Wind and weather affect them as they would a 
 mariner. For rock, shoal, sandbank and channel 
 there are the high hills, the tall factory stack, the 
 church steeple, and the deep valley. Landmarks 
 there are, but always below, not on either side. 
 Railways, roads, rivers, fields, woods and hills form 
 the colour scheme of the surface of the earth, by 
 which the air pilot steers a course. 
 
 This, the youngest and most important Service, 
 is essentially one for the young man and of the 
 young man : a Service the future of which is being 
 steadily built up by the " muddied oafs and 
 flannelled fools " of the playing-fields of the public 
 schools of Great Britain. 
 
 Immediately after leaving school is the most 
 perplexing period in a boy's life. Not only for 
 the boy himself, but for his parents, for then has 
 to be considered his future career. What is the 
 boy capable of? What are his own personal 
 wishes? What profession is he best adapted for 
 physically? It is indeed a momentous question. 
 
 It is worse than useless for the boy fond of good, 
 wholesome, out-of-door exercises and games to be 
 
JOINING THE SERVICE 13 
 
 put into an office or to study for the Bar, or to 
 mope his young life away pen-driving. And, on 
 the other hand, it is a positive torture for the 
 youth with distinct literary taste, or love of things 
 scholastic, to take up a Commission in one of the 
 Services, or to go in for farming or a similar 
 profession. 
 
 Taking everything into consideration, at least 
 eighty per cent, of boys may be grouped into the 
 former class that is to say, they wish to adopt 
 a healthy, open-air profession; and for this type 
 of youth nothing can be better, and nothing can 
 offer greater inducements, than the profession of 
 the airman. It is a calling that appeals irresistibly 
 to a boy's heart. 
 
 The best possible training for the pilot of the 
 air are outdoor sports and games. Football, which 
 teaches the boy to keep his head in all emergencies, 
 to keep his feelings always well under control, and 
 to learn to obey implicitly the discipline of the 
 referee's whistle will prove invaluable to him when 
 learning to fly, when he will be subject to every 
 kind and manner of unexpected and sudden mishap 
 and accident. 
 
 Cricket will teach him patience, judgment so 
 invaluable when landing an aeroplane (which, inci- 
 dentally, is by far the most difficult feat to accom- 
 plish in flying) and a steady eye. 
 
 Swimming and running will develop those 
 
THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 muscles of the back and thigh which are use 
 extensively in the pilotage of the aeroplanes. 
 
 Again, the sensation of a horse jumping a hedge 
 is exactly similar to that of an aeroplane just 
 getting off from the ground. With ski-ing, on 
 the other hand, there is the feeling and, in fact, 
 the action of plunging desperately into what, at 
 the first attempt, appears to be an interminable 
 and awful space. This is exactly the feeling 
 experienced by the novice in his first trip up aloft. 
 There is a strong similarity to ski-ing at the 
 moment that the nose of the machine is suddenly 
 put down, and she commences to sink rapidly 
 towards the earth. 
 
 The next matter to be taken into consideration 
 is that of physical peculiarities. The would-be 
 pilot must be neither too tall nor too short. This 
 is essentially a matter to do with the steering of the 
 aeroplane. If he is too tall, he will find himself 
 very cramped in the confined space between the 
 pilot-seat and the rudder-bar. If he is too short 
 he will discover that his legs will not be long 
 enough to reach that all-important adjunct. 
 
 Again with regard to weight, for preference he 
 should be on the light side. There is not very 
 much room in an aeroplane, and, for reasons with 
 which we will deal, the machine is only capable 
 of lifting up to a certain weight. 
 
 Take into consideration that an aeroplane is 
 
JOINING THE SERVICE 15 
 
 often required to take up two passengers, not to 
 mention bombs, grenades, spare petrol and a 
 machine-gun; every extra pound of weight is of 
 the utmost importance. 
 
 His stomach must be strong, for with a weak 
 stomach he will be liable to air-sickness. 
 
 Further, he must be possessed of good health. 
 He must not suffer from heart trouble. It has 
 been proved by several very eminent doctors that 
 the rise and the descent through the various alti- 
 tudes of the atmosphere affect the heart greatly. 
 
 Again, he must have good eyesight. This is 
 imperative, for the best part of his work will take 
 place at an altitude of ten thousand feet above the 
 earth. The best age for an air pilot is between 
 nineteen and twenty-four. 
 
 The life of a pilot that is to say, his flying 
 life varies from three to five years; I may say 
 eighteen months under war conditions. Never 
 more. The great strain on the nerves, although 
 not felt at the time, begins to make itself apparent 
 after two years of flying; then the pilot discovers 
 that he is no longer so keen on going up as he 
 was, that he gets " cold feet " more frequently than 
 he was wont to do in the early days, that he has 
 no longer the nerve to do the little tricks, upon the 
 performance of which he formerly prided himself. 
 
 A good air-pilot must be born so, he cannot be 
 made. After years of experience a man may 
 
 
i6 
 
 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 become expert in trick flying, landing, getting 
 off, etc. ; but, however long and however diligently 
 he may strive, he can never become the equal of 
 the natural pilot. 
 
 Before applying for a Commission in either 
 Service the aspirant to flying honours must first 
 decide which of the two branches he wishes to take 
 up. The two branches, by the way, are pilotage 
 and observation. The difference between the two 
 I will here briefly endeavour to explain. 
 
 The pilot is concerned with the flying of the 
 machine, the care of the engine, spare parts, etc., 
 and is responsible for the general condition of the 
 craft; also to see that it is properly tested before 
 each flight. 
 
 On the other hand, the observer has a great 
 many subjects to learn. He must be at one and 
 the same time wireless expert, gunner, rifle-shot, 
 artist, photographer and map-maker. He must 
 know something about heavy artillery. 
 
 The observer in the Royal Flying Corps is given 
 equal rank to the pilot, but can only wear a half- 
 wing on his tunic where the pilot has full wings. 
 
 In the Royal Naval Air Service observers are 
 permitted to wear the bird on their sleeve imme- 
 diately on joining. However, they are of different 
 rank from the pilot, being either lieutenants or sub- 
 lieutenants, Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve. 
 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE AIRMAN'S FIRST DAYS 
 
 THE appointment to a commission in one of 
 the flying services can be either temporary or per- 
 manent. The former holds good until the end of 
 the war, the latter for as long as the would-be air- 
 man wishes to retain it. For a period of from four 
 to six months he must undergo a probationary 
 course; if after that time he has served satisfactorily 
 he will be confirmed in his rank. 
 
 Upon first joining up he will receive a uniform 
 allowance of ^20, and at the confirmation a further 
 ^20. These amounts should easily cover his re- 
 quirements and enable him to buy a complete 
 flying outfit. During the probationary period he 
 will receive 145. a day in pay; when he is confirmed 
 in rank, 185. a day in the Royal Naval Air Service, 
 and 2os. per day in the Royal Flying Corps. 
 
 Service etiquette plays a prominent part in the 
 matter of uniform. In the military wing he will 
 be expected to wear the button-over tunic and 
 forage cap of the Flying Corps, with breeches and 
 long brown field-boots, 
 c 17 
 
i8 
 
 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 In the R.N.A.S. the matter of dress is a more 
 difficult and more delicate one In the first place, 
 with regard to the cap, there are four entirely 
 separate badges in the Naval Service : they are 
 (i) the big silver anchor and the gold crown of the 
 regular Navy; (2) the smaller replica of the Royal 
 Naval Reserve; and of the Royal Naval Volunteer 
 Reserve, to which latter branch the aeroplane 
 observer always belongs; and lastly the silver bird 
 of the R.N.A.S., worn only by pilots. 
 
 In hosiery the naval flying man must confine 
 his taste to plain white shirts with collars to match; 
 black ties, and socks of the plain black variety. 
 His shoes must be unadorned of toecap, and it is 
 a cardinal sin to leave the buttons of his jacket 
 undone, if he reveal as much as a button of the 
 waistcoat beneath. 
 
 There is an amusing story told concerning a 
 famous English airman who has since resigned 
 from the R.N.A.S. On the occasion of his ap- 
 pointment to the Service he had to visit a certain 
 big man at the Admiralty, and arrived there in the 
 brass hat of a full-blown naval commander, with 
 a black-and-white striped tie, in which there coyly 
 reposed a large diamond pin. 
 
 When the interview was over the big man called 
 him back. 
 
 " You've forgotten something." 
 
 "What is it, sir?" the airman inquired. 
 
THE AIRMAN'S FIRST DAYS 19 
 
 " Your pink shirt and your purple socks," was 
 the reply. 
 
 Another new hand an Australian presented 
 himself to the astonished and apoplectic command- 
 ing officer of his first station wearing a blue 
 monkey-jacket, white flannel trousers, green socks, 
 and brown shoes. 
 
 Luckily he was a good-tempered youth, or he 
 would never have been able to live down the sub- 
 sequent ragging he got from all the other members 
 of his mess. 
 
 Flying-clothes must be the warmest procurable : 
 a black or brown leather coat lined with lamb's 
 wool, with trousers to match. Good flying-coats 
 cost from three to five guineas, and the trousers 
 range from a guinea to thirty shillings in price. 
 
 A khaki balaclava helmet, a wool-lined aviation 
 cap fitting closely round the skull, and costing 
 approximately half-a-guinea. A pair of triplex 
 glass goggles, price 125. 6d. cheaper ones of 
 ordinary glass can be obtained as cheap as 35. 6d 
 but it is always advisable to get triplex, as in the 
 event of a smash-up ordinary glass would splinter, 
 fly into the eyes and possibly blind one for life. 
 
 A good pair of leather gauntlets, large enough 
 in size to permit the wearing of a warmer pair of 
 woollen gloves beneath, and a grey sweater to wear 
 underneath the leather coat are all that are required, 
 bringing the total cost to about 6. 
 
 
20 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 fe. a 
 
 As in other professions and walks in life, a 
 certain slang has sprung into being in flying circles, 
 and this the new hand will discover will take him 
 a considerable time to pick up at least, with any 
 degree of satisfaction or success. 
 
 First he will discover that a " quirk " or a 
 " hun " is no less a person than a youngster who 
 aspires to flying honours, and who has not yet 
 taken his ticket. Even the aeroplanes themselves 
 have nicknames, as the " Bristol Bullet," so called 
 because of its peculiar shape. 
 
 Airships and balloons are always referred to 
 and somewhat contemptuously, it must be ad- 
 mitted by aeroplane pilots as " gasbags." The 
 small, silver-coloured airships that are to be seen 
 occasionally floating over a certain western suburb 
 of London are known in the Service as " Babies," 
 on account of their diminutive size; on the other 
 hand as " Blimps," and again as " S.S.'s " sub- 
 marine seekers that being their principal duty 
 when on active service. 
 
 Various parts of the machine have their own 
 particular nickname, as the " fuselage," or body 
 which contains the engine, pilot and observer's 
 seats, and the petrol tanks. That wonderful 
 control lever which is placed immediately before 
 the pilot's seat in the fuselage, and which man- 
 oeuvres the machine both upwards and downwards, 
 and to the left and to the right, or, in the terms 
 
THE AIRMAN'S FIRST DAYS 21 
 
 used by the R.N.A.S., to port and to starboard, is 
 known as the ''joy-stick." No self-respecting 
 pilot will ever refer to a trip in the air as such, but 
 rather as a " joy-ride." A bomb-dropping expe- 
 dition or a raid he speaks of as a " stunt." 
 
 To u nose-dive" is for the front portion of the 
 machine to plunge suddenly downwards at an angle 
 of approximately ninety degrees with the earth. 
 To " pancake," the aeroplane must fall flat to the 
 earth. It is possible sometimes to recover from a 
 " nose-dive," but never from a " pancake." Some- 
 times in banking turning in mid-air a pilot will 
 overdo the angle at which he turns; the result is 
 that the machine commences to rotate, and whirls 
 round like a humming-top; this, again, invariably 
 develops into a " nose dive," and is known as a 
 " spin." 
 
 The majority of pilots, when first starting off, 
 run their machines some distance across the aero- 
 drome, then rise gradually at an angle of about 
 fifteen degrees with the earth; others, on the other 
 hand, prefer to run their machine a considerably 
 greater distance across the ground, and, thus at- 
 taining a much greater speed, to rise almost verti- 
 cally for about two hundred feet, then to flatten 
 out and bring the machine level : this trick is 
 know as " zumming." 
 
 To " switchback " is to fly up and down, up 
 and down, as the name implies. 
 
 
THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 Immediately after leaving the ground the 
 plane invariably commences to plunge and to dive 
 like a ship in a stormy sea this is when it enters 
 a patch of rarefied air known as a "bump"; this 
 latter often causes the machine to drop suddenly, 
 and drops of as much as two hundred feet at a time 
 have been recorded. 
 
 No airman is capable of talking through his hat 
 at least, not literally, for he does not possess 
 such a thing, that article of his attire always being 
 referred to as a " gadget." 
 
 To have " cold feet "in the air is to have a bad 
 attack of nerves or funk. One day at Hendon, 
 before the war, a well-meaning but somewhat dense 
 journalist attached to a big London daily was told 
 Hamel was suffering from "cold feet." 
 
 Imagining that " cold feet " meant some ailment 
 of the feet, like chilblains, and solicitous for his 
 welfare, this enterprising individual approached 
 the famous airman immediately after his descent 
 from a trip up above. 
 
 " Excuse me asking, but is it true that you suffer 
 from cold feet, Mr. Hamel? " he asked. 
 
 Hamel's reply is not recorded. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE INITIAL FLIGHT 
 
 ONCE in the Service, the R.N.A.S man may be 
 selected for one of three branches of flying, namely, 
 seaplane, aeroplane which, incidentally, is far pre- 
 ferable to any other branch, and holds forth more 
 opportunities of active service and kite balloon, 
 probably the safest and most comfortable job of 
 the war, but dull deadly dull. 
 
 For the sake of those of my readers who do not 
 know of the captive kite-balloon, I will here briefly 
 explain. It is a queer sausage-shaped craft, that 
 is tethered to a steam-winch on the ground some- 
 where beneath it by means of a stout steel cable. 
 Usually situated some five or six miles behind the 
 firing-line, the basket of the balloon will only hold 
 two observers at one time. It is connected to the 
 big guns by telephone, and is useful for the direc- 
 tion of artillery fire, which it does by telling the 
 men at the guns whether their shells are falling 
 over, under, or to the left or right of the target 
 that they are aiming at. 
 
 
THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 The first day in the life of the " new hand " at 
 the Service school is not always the pleasantest of 
 memories. He discovers that, from a man of 
 parts, he has suddenly been converted into a very 
 junior sub, and is at the beck and call of every 
 member of the mess, with as much or more gold 
 braid on the sleeve of their uniform. 
 
 For the first few days he is allowed to wander 
 round at his own sweet will, in order to get the 
 hang of things. To him the matter of greatest 
 importance are the machines, for very often he has 
 never even seen an aeroplane at close quarters, and 
 should he be foolish enough to ask absurd ques- 
 tions, he will always find some one ready with a 
 fitting answer. 
 
 He will be told wondrous stories of the time the 
 machines will remain in the air, the breakneck 
 speed at which they will travel, and of the enor- 
 mous height to which they will climb. 
 
 The next most important thing to the actual 
 flying is a thorough knowledge of wireless tele- 
 graphy, for without a wireless instrument on board 
 an aeroplane is little better than useless to the army 
 in the field; and, having got the wireless set on 
 board, the pilot or the observer whosesoever duty 
 it is must be able to send messages, clearly and 
 distinctly, on the Morse key. 
 
 A good tip to the youngster thinking of taking 
 up flying for a profession is to buy a copy of the 
 
THE INITIAL FLIGHT 25 
 
 Morse code, and learn it off by heart. Then to 
 get a " buzzer " or a Morse key (both of which 
 can be obtained for the sum of 55. 6<f.), and to 
 teach himself to read by sound. 
 
 In Service circles the dot and the dash of the 
 Morse code are known as " iddy " and " umpty," 
 respectively. It is a simple matter to learn to send 
 and to receive wireless signals; but to know how to 
 erect and dismantle a wireless set, and to have a 
 sound knowledge of the theory and the working 
 of the thing, and to be able to take to pieces or to 
 repair at a moment's notice, any portion of the 
 instrument that may get out of order, is a more 
 difficult matter. 
 
 That requires several months to acquire, but the 
 " Quirk " will be given a useful, though somewhat 
 " short," course under an expert wireless operator 
 before he is expected to know these things. 
 
 At last the great day arrives when he goes for 
 his first trip up aloft. After donning a leather 
 coat, and trousers to match, a skull cap and goggles, 
 he is ready for the fray, and sits himself gingerly 
 beside what at the first seems to him to be a par- 
 ticularly violent and a particularly ill-disposed 
 individual with a simple wonderful flow of lan- 
 guage, an instructor in a " box-kite." Then the 
 engine is set going. 
 
 The instructor bawls some remark into his ear, 
 which, for the life of him, he cannot catch. A long 
 
 
26 
 
 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 and rapid journey across the bumpy ground, a 
 weird sensation of rising into space and he is up 
 in the air at last. Then the machine gets into the 
 " bumps"; she dips, and drops, and sways, first 
 to one side and then to the other, until the poor 
 unfortunate individual begins to wonder if he will 
 ever get safely to the ground again. 
 
 There is a pandemonium of noise. The wind 
 rushes by his face at an alarming rate. He feels 
 himself perspiring all over, and particularly in the 
 palms of his hands. He grips the nearest available 
 object, as a drowning man would clutch at a straw. 
 With every fresh plunge and dip he increases that 
 
 g ri P- 
 
 The instructor shouts at him at the top of his 
 
 voice, but he hears nothing; only the racing engine 
 and the whistle of the wind. And then for the 
 first time he ventures to look over the side. Could 
 that curiously-scattered collection of pigmy build- 
 ings, long, ribbon-like roads, and distant, narrow, 
 gleaming line of railway line be the earth ? 
 
 He decides that it is, and is at last beginning to 
 feel comfortable, when the machine begins to heel 
 
 7 o 
 
 over violently; it is the worst shock that he has yet 
 had. He grips with both hands as tight as he is 
 able, shuts his eyes, and waits for the worst. By 
 the time his eyes are open again the machine by 
 what seems to him to have been a miracle has 
 righted itself and is flying smoothly through the 
 
THE INITIAL FLIGHT 27 
 
 air. Never before has the world appeared so 
 beautiful nor so diminutive in size. 
 
 For another five minutes or so the instructor 
 flies to and fro above the aerodrome, then down 
 goes the machine, much to the astonishment and 
 alarm of the bewildered " quirk," who suddenly 
 finds the earth rushing up to meet him. How he 
 fears that moment when a landing must be made, 
 and how relieved he feels when he realises there 
 is nothing in it in the least degree terrifying. 
 
 Very gently the aeroplane skims on to the 
 landing-ground, like a seagull lighting in the crest 
 of a wave, and all is over; he is safe back again on 
 Mother Earth. Silent and subdued, he clambers 
 out of the aeroplane. How did he enjoy it? 
 " Very much indeed," he answers in a husky 
 whisper, and the instructor turns his head away 
 and smiles. He has taken " quirks " up before. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE PERILS OF THE AIR 
 
 FOR the first few trips up aloft the beginner is 
 always accompanied by an instructor. First he is 
 taken up as a passenger, and his only duty is to sit 
 in the observer's seat and do nothing. Then 
 gradually he is allowed to fly the machine himself. 
 This he does in a double-control that is to say, 
 an aeroplane with two sets of controls, one of which 
 the instructor makes use of and the other is in his 
 own hands. 
 
 He is taught that every movement of the control 
 must be slow and gentle, otherwise the machine 
 is sure to lose its stability balance and go 
 crashing to the ground below; that an inch too 
 much with the rudder-bar will invariably mean a 
 " spin," or a too jerky movement on the control- 
 bar a " pancake " or a " nose-dive." 
 
 Getting off from the ground is a comparatively 
 simple matter; but the moment of first entering the 
 air is the most dangerous and trying of all. Should 
 the engine fail, the chances are a hundred to one 
 that the machine will crash into a hedge, or a tree, 
 
 28 
 
 ^ 
 
 , 
 
THE PERILS OF THE AIR 29 
 
 or land in a valley. The " bumps " are most fre- 
 quent over houses and buildings, and particularly 
 so on a dull morning, when the sun is breaking 
 through the clouds, which send the craft plunging 
 and tossing in all directions. This is the test that 
 will show if a man is a good pilot or no. 
 
 Once clear of the " bumps," the first thing to 
 be done is to get " height." With a ship at sea 
 the safest sailing is in mid-ocean, far from the land. 
 In a similar manner, the greater the altitude the 
 safer is the flying. 
 
 When near the ground, the air pilot has very 
 little choice in landing-places and very little time 
 to prepare for a landing. The higher up he is, 
 the greater range of country he has to choose from, 
 and the more time he has to regain control of his 
 machine. 
 
 At a rough estimate, one may say that at a 
 height of 500 feet he has only an area of a square 
 half-mile to land in; at 1000 a mile; 2000 two 
 miles; 5000 five miles; 10,000 ten miles, and so 
 forth. Some few months ago a pilot at Brook- 
 lands flew up to a height of about 15,000 feet, 
 shut his engine dead off, and glided down into 
 Hendon aerodrome a distance of just over twenty 
 miles. 
 
 Having got clear of the " bumps," the next 
 danger is the clouds, which have a very strange 
 effect on the stability of the craft. They should 
 
 
30 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 always be avoided when possible. Fog is a very 
 terrible element to encounter in mid-air, and the 
 sensation of being fog-bound is the worst that the 
 human brain can conceive. Nothing in sight, with 
 the blinding fog on either side, and not knowing 
 any moment that he will not be colliding with some 
 high points of the earth, the air-pilot positively 
 dreads the fog. 
 
 The writer remembers well the case of an airman 
 fog-bound last winter at an aerodrome near 
 London. For two hours he was flying up and 
 down, up and down, over the aerodrome, without 
 being able to find it. The spectators on the 
 ground could hear the hum of his engine distinctly, 
 but could not see him, and neither could he see 
 them. Eventually, with the aid of landing-flares 
 and Verey's lights, he was able to land; but for 
 weeks afterwards was a nervous wreck, and could 
 not fly again for nearly a month. 
 
 After several trips with the instructor, and 
 having satisfied that individual that he has gained 
 sufficient knowledge of flying, the " quirk " is 
 allowed to take up a machine by himself. 
 
 At first he flies it up and down, over the aero- 
 drome, then gradually gets on to left and right 
 hand turns, and then to landing the machine. 
 
 Now, landing is the most difficult feat of all in 
 flying; it requires both good judgment and good 
 nerves. Before landing the pilot must discover 
 
THE PERILS OF THE AIR 31 
 
 the direction of the prevailing wind. This he can 
 do by watching the smoke of a high chimney, or 
 of the locomotive of a railway train. Having dis- 
 covered the direction of the wind, he must land 
 dead against it, otherwise the machine will be 
 caught in a sudden gust and toppled over. 
 
 For a day or two he will be kept on " landing " 
 practice, and then he will be allowed to try for the 
 Royal Aero Club aeroplane certificate. The tests 
 and conditions for this are as follows : The candi- 
 date must be over eighteen years of age, and of 
 British nationality; he must accomplish the three 
 following tests, each being a separate flight 
 
 A and B. Two distance flights, consisting of 
 at least five kilometres (three miles, 185 yards) 
 each in a closed circuit. 
 
 C. One altitude flight, during which a height 
 of at least 100 metres (328 feet) above the point 
 of departure must be attained, the descent to be 
 made from that height with the motor cut off. The 
 landing must be made in view of the observers, 
 without re-starting the motor. The candidate 
 must be alone in the aircraft during the three tests. 
 
 Starting from and alighting on the water is only 
 permitted in one of the tests, A and B. The 
 course on which the aviator accomplishes tests A 
 and B must be marked out by two posts or buoys, 
 situated not more than 500 metres (547 yards) 
 apart. The turns round the posts or buoys must 
 
 
32 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 
 be made alternately to the right and to the left, so 
 that the flight will consist of an uninterrupted 
 series of figures of 8. 
 
 The distance flown shall be reckoned as if in a 
 straight line between the two posts or buoys. The 
 alighting after the two distance flights in tests A 
 and B shall be made (a) by stopping the motor at 
 or before the moment of touching the ground or 
 water; (b) by bringing the aircraft to rest not more 
 than 50 metres (164 feet) from a point indicated 
 previously by the candidate. 
 
 The decision of the committee of the Royal 
 Aero Club in all matters connected with the test 
 is final, and without appeal. 
 
 The certificate itself, which is a handsome, 
 leather-bound affair, in the shape of a pocket-book, 
 can be obtained by sending along the certificate 
 of the flights accomplished, together with i is. y 
 a photograph of the applicant, particulars as to 
 birth, etc., to the Secretary, Royal Aero Club, 166 
 Piccadilly, London, W. 
 
 His " ticket " having been obtained, the 
 " quirk " who, incidentally, is now a " quirk " 
 no longer is given a little more practice in flying 
 slow machines, in order to gain confidence, and is 
 then sent on to his first war station to learn to fly 
 the faster battle-planes and war machines, and at 
 the same time is confirmed in his rank. 
 
 Even now his flying education is by no means 
 
THE PERILS OF THE AIR 33 
 
 finished. After learning to fly the faster machines, 
 he will be put through a course of bomb-dropping. 
 After that a spell of cross-country work will occupy 
 his time; learning to fly from above by the position 
 of landmarks, roads, rivers, railways, etc. 
 
 After this he learns to steer a course by compass, 
 gets practice in machine-gun firing and dissembling 
 while in mid-air, and then he is ready at last for the 
 great adventure across the water. One fine morn- 
 ing he will set out on a brand-new war-machine 
 for somewhere in the north of France. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE SPIRIT OF THE AIR 
 
 THE great war has brought in its trail horrors 
 innumerable, but, as if in compensation, has 
 brought to light all that is best in our men. 
 
 The heroism and courage of the airmen were 
 without precedent, but none the less admirable. 
 Those stripling pilots of the air that flew undaunted 
 over shell-fire in all weathers and at all times have 
 opened up a chapter in our history that nothing 
 can rival. 
 
 Who can define the psychology of these young 
 men who can meet death as an old acquaintance and 
 pass him, mocking, by who laugh at fear, and 
 make a jest of danger ? Is it that they are without 
 nerve entirely, or is it rather a pose, a lovable 
 bravado that hides their true feelings? Is it that 
 they are rather less devoid of fear than their 
 brothers in the trenches? Hardly. We have 
 known them, you and I, reader, in the last few 
 years, but under a different guise as happy, 
 laughing schoolboys, as young men plunging into 
 life, the " flannelled fools and muddied oafs " of 
 
 34 
 
THE SPIRIT OF THE AIR 35 
 
 Britain, and suddenly they have become men, ready 
 and eager to share a man's burdens and responsi- 
 bilities, yet no whit altered; but deadly in earnest 
 when there is work to be done on the other side. 
 
 Undoubtedly the air does affect a man to a 
 degree, and endows him with that strange malady, 
 flying temperament, that makes him reckless, and, 
 to a certain extent, headstrong; occasionally to get 
 out of hand, and to find rules and discipline chafing 
 and irksome. But then the air has a call of its own 
 that few can resist; that runs through a man's veins 
 like flame, and whispers courage and defiance into 
 his ear, that invites his sympathy, his love, his 
 esteem. But the air is a fickle mistress, and woe 
 betide he who dares to slight her or make free at 
 her expense; he must pay the penalty, and that 
 penalty is death. 
 
 Every known sensation is experienced in flying : 
 joy the joy of youth astride the dull old world, 
 accomplishing what previous generations dared not 
 to attempt; excitement, to feel the cool air brushing 
 one's cheek, and whistling past one's ears; fear, 
 danger, hope and despair; all are crowded into this 
 one brief hour of life. 
 
 Day after day, in all kinds of weather, the air- 
 man must go up, for the battle seldom slackens 
 and never pauses on the earth beneath. One day 
 reconnoitring that is, making a long flight over the 
 enemy's country under a continual bombardment 
 
 
3 6 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 from the Hun anti-aircraft guns, noting any 
 fresh movements of enemy troops, gun emplace- 
 ments, headquarters, supply depots, ammunition 
 columns, or any unusual activity on his roads or 
 railways. Another day taking part in a bombing 
 raid on some distant military centre, or perhaps 
 out fighting enemy aircraft; but always taking his 
 life in his hands, and never knowing each morning 
 as he sets out whether he will return again. 
 
 It is the proud and honest boast of the British 
 Air Services that they never advertise; and what 
 we lack in that respect, our enemy make up for. 
 We have our Immelmanns and our Boelkes, but 
 their identities are hidden under the simple pseu- 
 donyms of Lieutenant X and Lieutenant 
 
 Y . They perform their daring feats, not for 
 
 their own vainglory, not for the sake of decora- 
 tions, but from keen sense of duty, love of their 
 work, and for the further honour of the famous 
 corps of which they are units. It is this policy of 
 eternal silence that has so completely shattered the 
 moral of the German airmen in Flanders, and 
 driven them almost entirely from the air. 
 
 In many ways the air is own cousin to the sea, 
 for there is a chivalry of the sea which has been a 
 tradition for tens of centuries; a freemasonry of 
 good feeling and sportsmanship among those who 
 have their business in great waters. 
 
 The chivalry of the air is none, the less real 
 
 : 
 
THE SPIRIT OF THE AIR 37 
 
 because it has no traditions to fall back upon. 
 Nature herself has made the man of the sea and the 
 man of the air sportsmen alike; has given them an 
 instinct for " doing the right thing." 
 
 The Air Service has, in addition, a quality exclu- 
 sively its own; I mean its youth. It is just like a 
 healthy schoolboy, intensely alive, active, happy- 
 go-lucky, yet ingenious enough where matters of 
 technique are concerned, and always eager to be out 
 for adventure. 
 
 But it is just these tremendous dangers which 
 are the breath of life to this splendid schoolboy 
 (even in age he is often little more). There is a 
 sporting touch in this ceaseless duel with fate, in 
 this juggling with life and death. That touch is 
 transmitted to the less figurative duels when there 
 is a tussle in mid-air with a flying Hun, when it 
 is his life or yours. 
 
 On second thought I withdraw that word Hun 
 in relation to the German airman; I continue to 
 apply it with all the vehemence I can muster to the 
 crews of a baby-killer Zeppelin, but one's adver- 
 sary in Albatross or Halberstadt is an adversary 
 worthy of the name. Here, almost alone in all 
 phases of modern warfare, remains the personal 
 touch. Up there in the awful solitude of space 
 two human beings pit their brains and courage one 
 against the other, with death each moment before 
 the eyes of both. It is a strange turn of things 
 
 
3 8 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 that the latest development of modern science has 
 brought about a revival of mediaeval chivalry, the 
 single combat. 
 
 I have mentioned the freemasonry of the air. 
 Any airman who has seen any fighting could give 
 you countless instances of it. Your German air- 
 man treats you as an honourable foe, and you treat 
 him as one. That constantly recurring phrase, 
 " An aeroplane was forced to descend and its. two 
 occupants taken prisoners," means that those 
 prisoners, whether Germans or English, were 
 treated honourably, even ceremoniously. A 
 wounded aviator landing in the enemy's lines is 
 lifted from his seat with every care, and is almost 
 invariably saluted. I have known on five separate 
 occasions airmen fly over the enemy simply to drop 
 the personal belongings and effects of the men 
 whom, in a terrific mid-air struggle, they have 
 succeeded in sending crashing to earth and death. 
 German airmen have done the same, and seen to it 
 that his comrades should receive the cigarette case 
 or bundle of personal papers of a fallen foe. 
 
 One of the most dramatic incidents of this drab 
 war was the dropping of a wreath from an English 
 aeroplane in honour of the dead hero of the 
 German Air Service, Immelmann. 
 
 An airman likes an opponent worthy of his 
 mettle; he likes even chances and the prospect of a 
 good fight. I shall always remember the disgust 
 
THE SPIRIT OF THE AIR 39 
 
 at a certain war aerodrome recently. The approach 
 of a Zepp had been reported, and all was excite- 
 ment. Aeroplanes were dragged from their 
 hangars, and off they went at lightning speed. 
 Soon the return. Disgust was on every one's 
 face. " We thought there was going to be some 
 real fun," was the general grumble. "Zepp? 
 Not a bit of it; only a sausage balloon." 
 
 Danger the airman shares with the soldier in the 
 trenches. Many a tale could be told of the awful 
 deaths, of roasting when the machine catches fire, 
 of hours of agony with a shattered leg or arm when, 
 at all costs, the machine must be piloted to safety 
 and a life (that of the observer) saved. But such 
 things are the lot of most men who fight. It is the 
 cheery sportsmanship, the good fellowship, the 
 national instinct to fight and behave like a gentle- 
 man, that have become characteristics of airmen 
 of all nations, which I have tried to emphasise. 
 
 Such is " playing the game " in the Air Service. 
 Often it is a cheery life, but it is always a trying 
 one. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 ; 
 
 SEAPLANES 
 
 THE seaplane, as its name implies, is used solely 
 for flying over tracts of water. It is identical in 
 shape with the aeroplane, but with minor varia- 
 tions. It is considerably heavier than the aero- 
 plane in weight, and is more of the formation of 
 the boat, though following the same " stream- 
 line" principles as the aeroplane. 
 
 The engine-power varies from 70 to 150 horse- 
 power, but the machine is much slower in transit 
 and in climbing even than several of the lesser 
 horse-power land machines. The fuselage, or 
 body, is like a flat-bottomed boat, in the bows of 
 which are the engine and the propeller. Imme- 
 diately in the rear of the engine are the pilot's and 
 observer's seats, side by side, and not, as in the 
 aeroplane, the one behind the other. Again, in 
 place of the wheels of the landing chassis of the 
 aeroplane are two boat-shaped floats; these are 
 hollow in formation, very heavy, and extremely 
 fragile. When landing the seaplane on a rough 
 sea, the part of the machine most liable to break up 
 is the float. 
 
 4 o 
 
SEAPLANES 41 
 
 With regard to the actual flying of the craft, 
 where a mere touch of the control is capable of 
 manoeuvring the aeroplane up from the ground, 
 it requires the grip of a Sandow's developer to lift 
 a heavy seaplane off the surface of the sea. Simi- 
 larly, while manoeuvring in the air, the movements 
 must always be of the gentlest nature, considerable 
 muscular force is required to bank (turn) and climb 
 the seaplane. 
 
 Landing is the most difficult and delicate man- 
 oeuvre in flying; it is a tricky performance to land 
 an aeroplane, but it is doubly so to land a sea- 
 plane. Should the surface of the sea be the least 
 bit choppy or rough, there is a grave risk of the 
 floats breaking open, and the machine turning 
 turtle, or diving down through the sea and pre- 
 cipitating the pilot to a watery grave. 
 
 
 WORK OF THE SEAPLANE. 
 
 The work of the seaplane may be placed in two 
 categories : first, work from the shore, when a land- 
 ing-station, bordering on the sea, is used as a base; 
 and, secondly, flying at sea, when the craft is taken 
 out on board a parent vessel, and flights are com- 
 menced from the middle of the ocean. With 
 regard to the former, the work is for the most part 
 of a defensive nature, as that of driving off in- 
 vading enemy craft, and patrolling the- coasts for 
 
 
42 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 enemy submarines. The work at sea is principally 
 scouting for fleets, for a seaplane observer, at an 
 altitude of 5000 feet, has a range of view ten times 
 greater than the look-out man of any battleship or 
 cruiser. 
 
 In this latter case, flights are usually termin- 
 ated and commenced from the sea surface, 
 alongside the parent ship; and when the craft are 
 no longer in use they are lifted on board by means 
 of a large crane and stowed away on a specially 
 constructed deck. 
 
 From the point of view of interest, aeroplane 
 work is preferable to that of the seaplane. Nothing 
 more boring and dreary can be imagined than a long 
 flight over an interminable stretch of blue water; 
 the aeroplane pilot does, at least, have an ever- 
 changing contour of hills and valleys, rivers and 
 woods, towns and villages beneath him, whereas 
 the seaplane man's view is confined to sea, sky 
 and horizon, with perhaps an occasional passing 
 ship. 
 
 One seaplane pilot of my acquaintance, in order 
 to relieve the monotony, always took his dog, a 
 staid and wise-looking Scotch terrier, with him. 
 That dog can lay claim to holding the record among 
 dogs of the world, for he has now flown consider- 
 ably over 2000 miles. His method of aviation is 
 peculiarly his own, for, once the machine has started 
 and got under way, he curls himself up in the body 
 
SEAPLANES 43 
 
 of the fuselage and goes into a sound sleep, from 
 which he does not wake until the engine stops 
 again. 
 
 Seaplane flying in these days is beset with 
 dangers of many kinds. 
 
 As an example, I will attempt to portray the 
 average day's work of a seaplane pilot on active 
 service, somewhere in the North Sea. 
 
 A scene of unusual activity is revealed by the 
 breaking dawn, lat. " X," long. " Y." The sea is 
 calm, the rising sun giving it that peculiar greyish- 
 green tint, over which the early morning mist hangs 
 like a pall. Through the mist can be seen the 
 hazy, blurred outlines of the Fleet : squat, lumpy 
 monitors, slim and graceful cruisers, sharp-nosed 
 destroyers, submarines that hang, as it were, on to 
 the surface of the water. Great towering battle- 
 ships, dignified and stately, look down upon the 
 smaller fry with apparent disdain. Far in the rear 
 there is what at first appears to be an ordinary 
 smug-funnelled tramp steamer; but a glimpse of 
 the huge crane and queer, elongated shapes along 
 her decks reveals the seaplane carrier. 
 
 Four o'clock in the morning. Though it is 
 summer, the weather is cold and raw, the chilly 
 breeze bites knife-like through one's clothes, fingers 
 are all thumbs rather a disillusion of the joys of 
 flying. The engine stops, and coughs and splutters 
 
 if in protest at this extraordinary behaviour. 
 
44 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 Compass, maps, instruments are missing; the petrol 
 tanks are unfilled, or the oil has been forgotten. 
 
 At last, creaking and groaning, the crane is 
 lowered, and fixed to the craft. A few hoarse com- 
 mands, and she is swung off the deck and dropped 
 gently on to the sea, and off she goes, bound on a 
 reconnaissance trip or target-registering. First 
 taxi-ing far across the open sea, clear of the Fleet. 
 What a delightful sensation this is, skimming the 
 water like a seagull, dipping and bowing gracefully; 
 but it is quite another story when the sea is rough, 
 and the swell threatens every moment to break 
 up the floats and submerge the craft. At last up 
 into the air, 200, 300, 500, 1000 feet, circling 
 round the now, seemingly, stationary Fleet; how 
 still and quiet they appear down below there ! 
 
 The seaplane is usually a much slower craft to 
 climb than the aeroplane, and some time elapses 
 before a decent altitude is reached. The observer 
 busies himself plotting out the course, testing the 
 wireless gear, and preparing his report. 
 
 Scouting is the object of the flight, and scouting 
 implies, for the most part, keeping a weather eye open 
 for suspicious craft, enemy battleships, cruisers, 
 destroyers and enemy submarines, the latter more 
 easily distinguishable from a height, when the bed 
 of the sea in the more shallow portions can be read 
 like an open book, sandbanks standing out most 
 prominently from the surrounding azure blue. 
 
SEAPLANES 45 
 
 Target-registering, on the other hand, consists 
 of following, or rather attempting to follow, a 
 damnably perverse raft, on which a large target is 
 lashed, at which the heavy guns of the Fleet are 
 firing from a distance of from fifteen to twenty miles, 
 and the observer wirelessing back the results of 
 their attempts, also entering the same in his report. 
 
 To the uninitiated this report would at first sight 
 appear slightly less understandable than a Chinese 
 love letter or a Greek play. It is divided into 
 columns; first there is the time of the entry, next 
 the height at which the machine was flying, the 
 approximate position, and, last, the nature of the 
 observation. For example: 11.55 a - m - 6000 
 feet. Lat. 90, long. 70' 6. Large two-funnelled 
 steamers, apparently merchantmen, observed pro- 
 ceeding in a south-westerly direction. 
 
 If the matter is of an urgent nature it is sent 
 back to the Fleet immediately by wireless, surely 
 the most valuable asset to aviation that exists, and 
 without which aerial scouting and reconnaissance 
 work would be almost useless. The apparatus is 
 light and extremely compact, consisting of one or 
 two Morse keys and an aerial. The range of action 
 that is to say, the distance that a message can be 
 either sent or received is not very great, but such 
 as it is, is invaluable. In a word, wireless in the 
 Navy is as near perfection as it is possible for a 
 new science to be. 
 
 
46 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 The observer makes a sudden movement with 
 his hand in a south-westerly direction. Far down 
 on the distant horizon is the long black sleuth-like 
 form of an enemy destroyer. The wireless is soon 
 busy ticking the gladsome news to the Fleet, now 
 far in the rear. More and yet more black shapes 
 appear, and then our own destroyers come up, 
 dashing through the sea, at well over thirty knots 
 an hour, leaving a line of churning white foam in 
 their track. The enemy catch sight of them and 
 then turn north at full pelt, our own in hot pursuit, 
 until for fear of floating mines it is a favourite 
 trick of the Hun sportsman, when pursued to drop 
 mines behind him, in the hope that they will strike 
 the enemy ships our own destroyers come back 
 crestfallen and downhearted. 
 
 En passant it may be said that a seaplane 
 battle is very similar to a fight between two aero- 
 planes, though usually more slowly fought out, 
 and hence longer in duration. Such feats as " loop- 
 ing " or sudden nose-dives are generally impossible. 
 
 The morning's work is now completed, the 
 recall signal is received via the wireless, and the 
 great bird turns for home, not, however, without 
 sighting several merchantmen and something 
 which appears to be the periscope of a German 
 submarine, but which, however, proves on closer 
 inspection to be floating wreckage. 
 
 The British Fleet comes nearer into view, first the 
 
 
SEAPLANES 
 
 47 
 
 different shapes and sizes of the varying craft, then 
 the funnels, then the masts, the rigging and the 
 crew aboard. Throttling down his engine, the pilot 
 sinks gradually lower and lower, and lands on the 
 smooth surface of the water strange to say a more 
 difficult and more tricky feat than to come down 
 on the solid earth for reasons too numerous to 
 mention in this short chapter. 
 
 Another long " taxi " across the water to the side 
 of the seaplane carrier, the creaking crane comes 
 sliding out again, is fixed to the craft, which is 
 hauled aboard, and stowed away until further 
 required. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 A ZEPPELIN CHASE 
 
 " X or Y airships participated in the attack 
 Great Britain last night; Z raiders were brought 
 down." Hard official words these, that, read in 
 the cold black and white of print, fail entirely to 
 bring to the reader's mind a true sense of the danger 
 and the nerve-racking conditions under which this 
 novel form of warfare is fought out. 
 
 Let us imagine, if we can, the difficulties the 
 aeroplane pilot has to face. It is dark pitch dark 
 sky and earth are alike indistinguishable. Flying 
 at the best of times contains a more than comfort- 
 able element of danger, and in the darkness this 
 danger is accentuated. The darkness deprives the 
 air pilot of all sense of direction and of locality, 
 greatly hampers him in the manoeuvring of his 
 craft, and renders unpleasantly possible a collision 
 with another aeroplane on similar errand bent. 
 
 Starting out, there are a hundred and one small 
 details to be attended to, as the testing of the 
 engine, the trying of elevators and ailerons, and 
 
 48 
 
A ZEPPELIN CHASE 49 
 
 the examination of the petrol and oil tanks, in order 
 to ascertain if there is a sufficiency of both to last 
 a two or three hour trip. All this to be performed 
 in the dark, with the engine screeching loud, so that 
 a man may not hear a word, and the attendant 
 mechanics indistinguishable in the gloom. 
 
 Fortunately for the pilot, a small dry-cell electric 
 lighting set is installed in the body of every 
 machine, and by this means the pilot is able to 
 distinguish his instruments a most necessary 
 adjunct to safe flying the altimeter, which records 
 the height, "revmeter" which indicates the speed 
 of the engine and the compass, more necessary than 
 any other instrument for night flying. 
 
 Getting off from the ground is by no means a 
 pleasant sensation. There are hangars, high roofs, 
 and chimney-stacks waiting to be collided with, 
 patches of thin and rarefied air, which will bump the 
 machine down as much as thirty feet at a time; the 
 ever present danger of engine failure, necessitating 
 a descent to the darkened earth beneath, always so 
 full of death-traps for the airman and his craft. 
 
 Clear of the earth, at about 1000 feet, there 
 are, here and there, faint patches of light of dark 
 grey and the subdued reddish glow of the distant 
 metropolis; the locomotive of a passing passenger 
 train, bright as a searchlight for a brief moment, 
 then passing away into the outer darkness. Higher 
 and yet higher; and the sensation! The mind of 
 
50 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 a Jules Verne or of an H. G. Wells could not 
 imagine a feeling more eerie, more strange than 
 this. Noise and darkness, the incessant deafening 
 purr of the engine, the pitch blackness on all sides, 
 relieved by the one tiny light inside the fuselage, 
 as welcome and cheery to the airman as a distant 
 lighthouse to a sailor in a storm. 
 
 Then the searchlights begin to blaze, creeping up 
 across the sky in ribbons of shining brightness. 
 One plays for a moment on the machine, the pilot 
 is almost blinded before it passes on its strange 
 search across the heavens. But a stringent search 
 reveals nothing! For an encounter with the 
 raiding airship is not at all probable at an altitude 
 of below 6000 ft., and from that height up to 
 15,000 ft; the only likely encounter is with the 
 observation car of a Zepp. This car is usually 
 suspended hundreds of feet beneath the mother- 
 craft by means of a stout aluminium cable or cables, 
 is about yft. by 5ft., composed entirely of alu- 
 minium, and contains sufficient space for one 
 observer, who is in telephonic communication with 
 the commander. 
 
 At last the pilot of the aeroplane has an instinctive 
 feeling that a Zeppelin is somewhere near him. 
 He cannot hear because of the noise of his own 
 engine, and he cannot see because of the intensity 
 of the darkness all around him. 
 
 The combat between the aeroplane and the 
 
 , 
 
A ZEPPELIN CHASE 51 
 
 Zeppelin might be compared to that between the 
 British destroyers and the German Dreadnoughts 
 in the recent Jutland battle. Dashing in with great 
 rapidity and skill, the tiny one-gunned aeroplane 
 fires its broadside, then makes off as fast as pos- 
 sible to get out of range of the comparatively 
 heavy-armed airship. From thence onwards it 
 develops into a fight for the upper position, for 
 once above the' Zeppelin the aeroplane pilot can 
 use his bombs, which are considerably more effec- 
 tive than a machine-gun, and the broad back of the 
 gasbag offers a target which can hardly be missed. 
 
 In manoeuvring, the aeroplane has the great 
 advantage of being remarkably quick, both in 
 turning, climbing, and coming down, whereas the 
 Zeppelin again is a slow and clumsy beast at the best 
 of times. The Zeppelin is very susceptible to flame 
 and explosion of any kind; the gas in the envelope, 
 a mixture of hydrogen and air, forms an extremely 
 explosive mixture. The aeroplane, owing to the 
 fabric of which it is composed, and the petrol 
 needed for propulsion, is to a certain degree inflam- 
 mable, but not nearly to the same extent as the 
 airship. On the other hand, the airship possesses 
 a distinct advantage in that it is able to shut off 
 its engines, and to hover, which it is impossible for 
 an aeroplane to do. 
 
 Again, in the matter of speed in a forward 
 direction, and, for that matter, backwards also 
 
 
THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 n^rrv- 
 
 for the Zeppelin engines are reversible the aero- 
 plane holds the palm with an average speed of 
 sixty miles per hour, while that of the airship is 
 only fifty. 
 
 The combat finished, the aeroplane pilot has yet 
 to make a landing, surely the most dangerous and 
 tricky manoeuvre of the whole flight. The diffi- 
 culties and dangers thus encountered are too ob- 
 vious to need explanation further than to say that 
 the landing has to be affected in the dark, with 
 only a blinding, dazzling, electric ground-light for 
 guidance. 
 
W\4 
 
 I 
 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE COMPLETE AIRMAN 
 
 THE British Air Service is now a great army, 
 80 per cent, of whom, before the war, had never 
 even seen an aeroplane, much less been up in one, 
 
 bank clerks, young merchants, undergrads, 
 doctors, lawyers, journalists, all endowed with two 
 sterling qualities required by the pilot of the air, 
 courage and level-headedness. And how has this 
 eat miracle been accomplished? August 1914 
 
 ound us lamentably short of both personnel and 
 material, but what little there was of the very best. 
 The already experienced pilots set to work with a 
 will upon the more than generous quantity of raw 
 material that came to hand. Within a few months 
 their influence made itself felt. They taught the 
 " quirk " the airman's pet name for the novice 
 in their own simple and undemonstrative manner, 
 that the air is to be respected, but never feared, 
 the aeroplane treated as a being of life and anima- 
 tion, with quaint humours peculiarly its own, and 
 not as a lifeless mass of metal and woodwork. 
 Within six months the number of fully trained 
 
 53 
 
54 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 British pilots had trebled itself; within one 
 
 the number had grown beyond all proportion, and 
 
 still it goes on. 
 
 The usual method of training a new hand is to 
 get him used to the air, which, though apparently 
 harmless and void, is as tricky and treacherous as 
 the sea. The beginner is taken up for several 
 flights as a passenger. In the initial flight the pilot 
 will perform the most daring manoeuvres and pre- 
 cipitate turns, watching his passenger closely the 
 whole time for any signs of nervousness or fear. 
 It is a most trying ordeal that first trip up aloft, 
 and the bravest hearts have been known to quail. 
 
 FIRST FLIGHT ORDEALS 
 
 
 Recently there was a case at a large school of a 
 Major of marines, concerning whose courage there 
 could be not the slightest doubt, and who possessed, 
 among other decorations, the much coveted 
 D. S. O. After a first trip above, the Major 
 remained in his seat of the landed aeroplane for 
 fully a quarter of an hour, ashen of countenance, 
 and too terrified to speak. It was not cowardice, 
 but simply that he was temperamentally unsuited. 
 At length, when he had composed himself suffi- 
 ciently to clamber out, he vowed that never again 
 would he go up in an aeroplane. 
 
THE COMPLETE AIRMAN 55 
 
 Following the first flights there are numerous 
 trips in dual-control machines, that is to say, with 
 the ordinary pilot's control-stick and steering-bar 
 duplicated, and both couples working under the 
 same control. Thus, gradually, the " quirk " 
 becomes used to the handling of the craft and 
 accustomed to the sudden drop in an air bank, or 
 to an outward slip in a gust of wind, until eventu- 
 ally, without his knowledge, the instructor allows 
 him to fly the machine himself. 
 
 Sufficient progress made, he is allowed to make 
 flights alone, and when he has learnt to bank left 
 and right, and land the machine in a safe and 
 seemly manner, permission is given him to attempt 
 the Royal Aero Club's certificate; for which an 
 altitude flight, a distance flight, and a landing on 
 a given spot are the only tests that are necessary. 
 This, let it be said, is but the starting-point of 
 the flying education. Flying fast machines, wire- 
 less operating, machine-gun firing, bomb-dropping, 
 navigation and map-reading are still to be mastered. 
 Only one who has been in the air and seen that 
 queer panorama of jumbled green, grey and blue, 
 stretching away for miles on either hand behind 
 him, can appreciate the difficulties of an air pilot 
 endeavouring to make a true course from a mist- 
 bound earth; or when one's hands are frozen to 
 the bone, and the ice-cold wind whistles by one's 
 ears, the extreme difficulty of manoeuvring the 
 
56 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 control-stick and working the machine-gun at 
 and the same time. 
 
 RECONNAISSANCE AND NIGHT FLYING 
 
 This much for daylight flying, but what of the 
 night when sky and earth are alike indistinguish- 
 able? Truly night flying is a science unto itself 
 which needs more than the average amount of 
 courage. However, nightwork is given to only the 
 most experienced pilots. 
 
 With active service flying again, we enter into 
 a new phase of -which reconnaissance work occupies 
 at least eighty per cent, of the time. Simply put, 
 reconnaissance means flying over the other fellow's 
 lines to see what he is about, if he is massing 
 troops at a certain point, or digging in new gun 
 emplacements, or if there is any unusual activity 
 on the highways and railways immediately behind 
 his firing line. It is a difficult matter to differenti- 
 ate between infantry and cavalry on the march; to 
 distinguish a cleverly hidden gun emplacement, or 
 to tell the difference between an ammunition and 
 a supply depot. 
 
 Bomb-dropping is a practice that requires the 
 
 patience of a Job, good judgment, and a calm day 
 
 that is, if it is required to attain any degree of 
 
 accuracy. Last, but not least, there is the matter 
 
THE COMPLETE AIRMAN 
 
 57 
 
 of aerial combat, which however, covers too wide 
 a field for discussion in this short chapter. 
 
 Thus, in the complete air-pilot, we have a blend 
 of gunner, wireless expert, map-reader, amateur 
 detective, and aviator. 
 
PART II 
 ON ACTIVE SERVICE 
 
(PART II contains a series of incidents and 
 adventures taken from the note-book of a British 
 air pilot, stationed somewhere in the north of 
 France, and are given in their original diary form.) 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 BEHIND THE FIRING LINE 
 
 Somewhere in France, 
 
 Friday. 
 
 TUCKED away in a corner of an unused Flanders 
 roadway, a long straggled line of irregular shaped 
 huts and sheds surrounding a wide open meadow 
 land, several acres in extent, is the aerodrome I 
 have in mind. 
 
 On either side are the long gaunt avenues of 
 trees and in rear of them, bare and low-lying arable 
 lands. 
 
 No one can claim for it that it is a beauty spot. 
 But it is comfortable, and above all one is able to 
 obtain a bath there. 
 
 On the right are the officers' quarters : three long, 
 low, wooden huts. Within, a passage runs along 
 the centre of the hut; and on either side of it are 
 the various cabins, each about six feet square, and 
 providing just sufficient space for a camp-bed, 
 washstand and chair. 
 
 A stove is at either end for warming purposes; 
 and one bath is allotted to each hut. 
 
 61 
 
 
62 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 The mess-room is contained in a similar building 
 across the way. The furniture is not such that 
 one would meet with, say at the Ritz or the Savoy; 
 but it serves its purpose. Three plain deal tables, 
 each covered with a spotless cloth. A dozen or so 
 stiff-back wooden chairs, and one solitary easy- 
 chair. The competition for the latter is enormous. 
 
 The general atmosphere of the place is cheery 
 to a degree. Every member of the mess is full of 
 good humour, quips and jests. Sub chaffs captain 
 and captain chaffs sub, the while they attack plain 
 wholesome fare with an unstinted vigour. 
 
 After dinner in the evening, an impromptu con- 
 cert is started. One, an obliging musician, renders 
 an excellent violin solo. He is followed by a 
 gentleman of poor voice. The station orchestra, 
 in which the penny tin whistle is the most promi- 
 nent instrument, plays delightfully and harmoni- 
 ously with the possible exception of one member 
 in the extreme rear, who, having previously had 
 some bread-crumbs gently deposited down his neck 
 by an admiring colleague, finds some difficulty in 
 reaching the correct notes. It is, of course, the 
 star-turn of the evening. 
 
 There are good card-games to be had, when off 
 duty. Also a gramophone and two pianos. The 
 gramophone usually will not work. Ludo is the 
 rage to-day. Badminton, writing letters home, and 
 visiting the neighbouring town about complete the 
 
BEHIND THE FIRING LINE 63 
 
 leisure time. There is, however, really not very 
 much to do in the town, except to sit in the cafes, 
 drink bad coffee, and try to talk French to the girls. 
 
 Any number and variety of pets and mascots are 
 there. Cats and kittens, dogs of all breeds. A 
 few hunters, with which some excellent rides across 
 the sand-dunes can be obtained. A goat that 
 wanders around the aerodrome risking life a dozen 
 times daily from aeroplanes getting off and land- 
 ing. And a parrot with a perfectly wonderful 
 vocabulary of oaths. 
 
 Thus far we have been shown only the lighter 
 side of the life. Now we come to the more serious 
 work of flying across the lines. The strain on the 
 nerves is so great that a pilot is only detailed for 
 duty every other day. The work is distributed 
 among the various squadrons and flights. One is 
 responsible for reconnaissance work; a morning and 
 an afternoon patrol along the coast for submarines, 
 or a trip inland to have a look at a new gun 
 emplacement, or to report on a new movement of 
 the enemy's troops. Another, the fighting squad- 
 ron, is responsible for the bombing raids, for the 
 battle flights, for convoying the reconnaissance 
 machines, and for meeting enemy air attacks. 
 
 To the headquarters flight is allotted the photo- 
 graphy, and any special and confidential job that 
 may crop up. 
 
 Naturally there is the pick of all the machines, 
 
64 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 
 equipped with all the latest improvements and 
 inventions. 
 
 One peculiarity concerning atmospheric condi- 
 tions on the other side is, that either the weather 
 is too misty for flying, or on the other hand, it is 
 so remarkably clear, that it is possible to view the 
 land from twice the altitude that it would be under 
 similar circumstances in England. For the first 
 two hours after sunrise there is invariably a heavy 
 ground mist, and very little takes place save when 
 an expedition is setting out for some distant spot, 
 necessitating an early start. The late morning and 
 the late afternoon are the most favourable times 
 for flying purposes. 
 
 Almost the whole of the Flanders country is 
 intersected by waterways and canals. This is of 
 extreme value to the air pilot, and aids him greatly 
 in the matter of navigation. Railway systems there 
 are in plenty, mostly following an east or west 
 direction. 
 
 The junctions of these railway lines are the nerve 
 centres of the German Army in the field; they 
 control entirely the supplies of reinforcements, 
 ammunition, and supplies to the firing line. It is 
 for this reason that so many of our own air raids 
 have been made on Bruges, Courtrai, Roubaix, 
 Lille, Tournai, and Douai. Each of these towns 
 mentioned contains an important railway junction. 
 
 The large majority of the Belgian towns in the 
 
BEHIND THE FIRING LINE 65 
 
 enemy country, immediately behind the firing line, 
 have been totally deserted by their inhabitants and 
 the soldiers alike; it is not considered either safe 
 or desirable to remain within the area of a con- 
 spicuous landmark, of which the enemy artillery 
 can obtain an exact bearing with the utmost ease. 
 Added to this, frequent allied air-raids, and the 
 accurate firing of the Allied artillery have reduced 
 them to untenable masses of fallen masonry. 
 
 A point regarding aerial photography is worthy 
 of note; if the surface of the earth has been dis- 
 turbed in any way within two days previous to 
 the photo being taken, that is, disturbed by the 
 explosion of a shell, or a new path across a field 
 made by the tramp of many feet, such disturbance 
 
 ill always show up prominently on the camera 
 negative. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE FIRST TRIP ACROSS THE LINE 
 
 Somewhere in f ranee ^ 
 
 Monday. 
 
 A MOST important entry in my little diary, 
 this, the day of my first trip across the " lines." 
 
 And here in the privacy of my thoughts and of 
 my pen let it be said that at first I was troubled 
 with qualms of fear qualms that I had experienced 
 in the previous life after a stormy Channel cross- 
 ing, or prior to a visit to my dentist. 
 
 As I stood there on the dreary, wind-swept aero- 
 drome in the chilly rays of the early morning sun, 
 forebodings filled my mind. Visions of an awful 
 death in mid-air, and a yet more awful vision of 
 a downward rush of thousands of feet to the ground 
 below. Comforting myself with the reflections 
 that, after all, out of the large number of machines 
 that must daily cross the lines the proportion of 
 those reported missing was extremely small, I was 
 roused from my pessimistic thoughts by the voice 
 of the pilot, who was already in his seat enjoying 
 the luxury of the last few puffs at his "gasper " 
 (cigarette) before testing the engine. 
 
 66 
 
THE FIRST TRIP ACROSS THE LINE 67 
 
 He invited me cordially to " hop in," and once 
 in to strap myself in securely. With his calm 
 matter-of-fact air, which, incidentally cheered me 
 up considerably, one would have thought that we 
 were about to start for a motor run through Picca- 
 dilly and the Park rather than, as he so picturesquely 
 styled it, " to play the part of a clay pigeon atop 
 of a firework show." 
 
 Three heavy-eyed mechanics now appeared upon 
 the scene, and, after having been slanged roundly 
 for their late arrival by our cheery Jehu, the engine 
 was started with an alarming whirr. A few pre- 
 liminaries and she got well away. 
 
 For a few moments we circled round the neigh- 
 bourhood of the aerodrome, to gain height. Then 
 in the first contact with the icy-cold morning 
 breeze I felt thankful that I had taken the sound 
 advice of clothing myself well. I must have looked 
 for all the world like an Eskimo or an Arctic 
 explorer in my wool-lined leather coat and overall 
 trousers, a knitted Balaclava hat or helmet, and 
 over that again a skull-cap, the whole tied down 
 tightly beneath my chin. A huge woollen muffler 
 round my neck and a pair of unsightly goggles 
 completed the picture. I had treated my hands 
 and face with a generous dose of vaseline, which 
 I had been assured would keep out the cold, and 
 which advice I now gratefully acknowledge to be 
 correct. 
 
 
68 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 As we mount higher my perspective extei 
 and out of the grey mists and the dark shadows 
 land and sea begin to assume their natural form 
 and colour. On the former there are now signs of 
 movement; along the roads crawl the ant-like pro- 
 cession of ammunition columns back from their 
 nightly trip to the firing lines. A steaming " Puff- 
 ing Billy " slowly drags along on a limber, a 
 "grandmother" (naval 1 5-inch gun) blocking up 
 the whole roadway, which must cause considerable 
 annoyance to the long string of cars and motor- 
 bike despatch riders held up in the rear. 
 
 On the roadside, by a wood, a company of 
 infantry are falling in for early parade; they look 
 up at us in a half interested sort of way. Some 
 wave their hats and rifles at us. I wave my hand 
 in reply, but know they cannot see us. We keep 
 on climbing steadily. Out at sea are two French 
 torpedo-boats making up the coast towards , 
 and a few small trawlers sailing off in the direction 
 of England. Happy thought! 
 
 Every moment we are getting nearer to the 
 dreaded area. In the far distance I can see the red 
 flashes of the rifles, the smoke clouds of the 
 heavy guns, and the long grey lines of winding 
 trenches. I look at my map, to discover that we 
 are passing over a junction of two main roads, 
 one of which is crossed by a railway, while beneath 
 the other runs a narrow stream. It is . 
 
THE FIRST TRIP ACROSS THE LINE 69 
 
 Five miles to the firing line. With my glasses 
 I can already pick out several of our own field- 
 artillery emplacements, and a moving up of rein- 
 forcements from the rear I would surmise about 
 two battalions of infantry. I time the observation 
 on my report sheet; also I discover from my wrist 
 compass my most prized and valued possession 
 that we are going too much to the north-west and 
 tell the pilot so by means of a written message. 
 
 Course changed ! What are Headquarters orders 
 for the flight? A reconnaissance over - , I 
 puzzle out as well as my now fevered brain will 
 allow me, whether reconnaissance will be tactical or 
 strategical, and again whether " line " or " area." 
 For the benefit of those who may perhaps read my 
 diary I will here endeavour to explain the fine 
 points which divide the two. The former recon- 
 naissance necessitates flying and observing along a 
 line between two given points on the map, these 
 points having already been marked in before 
 leaving the ground. Area reconnaissance, on the 
 other hand, comprises observation of a whole area 
 or district. To do this successfully it is necessary 
 to fly backward and forward several times, thus 
 adding greater risk to the adventure, and taking 
 a great deal longer time to accomplish. Hence 
 they are not undertaken very far away from our 
 own lines, and then only if particular information 
 is required. 
 
 
THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 Thus far the weather had rendered the trip ideal. 
 But it would be an entirely different matter, I 
 surmised, when we came within reach of the enemy 
 anti-aircraft guns. Already they were getting un- 
 comfortably near. Should we have an easy passage 
 across or should we have to climb up for our lives 
 above the bursting " Archies " ? 
 
 We were not left long in doubt. Their men 
 must have been up particularly early that morn- 
 ing, for the very first shot came within an ace 
 of blighting two young and promising careers. 
 There was a loud report on the ground below,, 
 the familiar "sing" of an approaching shell, 
 which at first interests one, but which in the 
 course of time one gets to dread. Then it seemed 
 for the moment that the whole machine had been 
 blown to atoms. But no! We started to climb 
 hurriedly. 
 
 " High explosive " the pilot bawled in my ear. 
 " Going up higher." 
 
 For the next three minutes my feelings were 
 the reverse of pleasant, and I fervently hoped that 
 other observers did not suffer in the same way. 
 Shells burst above, below, to the right, to the 
 left, and all round us; but never near enough to 
 do us any serious harm, though the bullets of one 
 shrapnel shell certainly did rattle against the wings, 
 piercing them with minute holes in several places, 
 and I felt very thankful for the uncomfortable 
 
THE FIRST TRIP ACROSS THE LINE 71 
 
 sandbag on which I sat, which protected me from 
 bursting shells beneath. 
 
 As we climbed to a higher altitude the Huns 
 ceased their attentions, and we very soon arrived 
 over the scene of our " line." My bad attack of 
 " cold feet " now having passed over, I set myself 
 to think seriously upon the precepts drummed into 
 my thick head by the instructor at the training 
 school. " The observer" he was wont to say, 
 " should always try to keep in touch with the 
 military situation, and particularly in the encounter 
 battle, and discover the disposition of our own 
 troops." 
 
 One point I could and did satisfy myself upon 
 this was no encounter battle. So I ignored our own 
 
 forces and kept my attention fixed upon . 
 
 Nothing extraordinary met my eye. I saw a camp 
 here and there, and turned my glasses upon them 
 and discovered that they were composed of huts. 
 Hurriedly I counted them, and noted the number 
 in my report, together with the altitude, 12,000 ft. 
 Again the solemn advice of my worthy instructor 
 passed through my brain : " The eyes must con- 
 stantly turn to each likely spot, and each spot must 
 be examined carefully with the glasses if it offers 
 anything useful for the observer's report." 
 
 I examined each likely spot, and discovered to 
 my delight a broad grass meadow across which 
 ran several pathways of very recent construction. 
 
 
THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 Footpaths, I argued to myself (and I may possil 
 have been wrong) are not made across fields for 
 the mere pleasure of constructing them. There is 
 more in this than meets the eye. I signalled to my 
 companion and he quickly grasped the situation, 
 and in long sweeping circles, brought her down 
 some 2000 ft. The lower we came the more dis- 
 tinctly I could make out that some sort of emplace- 
 ment was being built up the new emplacement 
 for a i y-inch howitzer. I noted the same. 
 
 An excellent morning's work. We turn to go 
 home. But the enemy has not appreciated our 
 attentions and most unthoughtfully turns his guns 
 upon us. 
 
 Then the fun begins. It was bad enough 
 crossing the lines, but child's-play when compared 
 with this; and besides we are two thousand lower. 
 A perfect inferno of " Archies." We bank first 
 to one side then to the other; put her nose down 
 for a moment or so, then climb for all we are worth. 
 
 But it is no good. We are hit! 
 
 Down goes her nose, down and down. The air 
 whistles past our ears. The earth rushes up to 
 meet us. The discs of the machine-gun topple over- 
 board, so steep has the angle become. must 
 
 have been hit. Yes! there he is, all huddled up 
 over the joy-stick (control-stick). I give up all 
 hope, when suddenly, the machine starts to right 
 herself. I look around, and find that the rush 
 
 
THE FIRST TRIP ACROSS THE LINE 73 
 
 through the air must have brought him to. He 
 is manfully straining every nerve to get her out 
 of the nose-dive. By a superhuman effort he 
 succeeds. We manage to get across the lines 
 unnoticed save by a few infantrymen, who fire 
 futilely at us, and land a bare hundred yards the 
 
 other side of our own trenches. makes a 
 
 beautiful landing, pulls her up dead, and promptly 
 faints in his seat. My first trip! 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 SOME ANECDOTES 
 
 Somewhere In Belgium, 
 
 Thursday. 
 
 " THE life of an airman is one of intense idleness 
 interrupted by moments of violent fear." This 
 remark, originating as it does from a youthful 
 member of the Senior Service describes, more aptly 
 than any other yet penned, the life of the airman 
 under active service conditions. Sometimes there 
 will come a spell of fine weather, and he is kept 
 going hard at it from sunrise to sunset. At other 
 times when the weather is too bad for flying, he 
 has nought else to do but sit round the mess-fire 
 and tell stories. 
 
 The memory of those wet days! Men of all 
 sorts and conditions exchanging personal experi- 
 ences : anecdotes of hair-raising escapes from 
 bursting shrapnel shells, thrilling fights with Air 
 Huns, miraculous evolutions in mid-air, and a 
 thousand and one other subjects dear to the heart 
 of the airman. I will here endeavour to relate 
 several of the best stories that have so far come 
 
 74 
 
SOME ANECDOTES 75 
 
 my way, but it is impossible to tell more than five 
 per cent, of them, for their name is Legion. 
 
 The first story concerns a well-known aerodrome 
 somewhere in Flanders. The pilots of the station, 
 when the weather was too bad for flying, filled up 
 their spare time by playing football; until one day 
 a wag amongst them suggested that a ball should 
 be blown up as tight as possible; taken up in an 
 aeroplane and dropped on the German lines. This 
 suggestion was duly carried out and the first fine 
 day the ball was put aboard a machine going up the 
 Belgian Coast for a reconnaissance trip. Arrived 
 over the town that had been decided upon, it was 
 dropped overboard, with quite accurate aim into 
 the market square. Seeing this dark awesome 
 object falling through the air and taking it for a 
 bomb the Germans took to their heels. Landing 
 on the cobbled pave, it must have bounced nearly 
 twenty feet into the air, then gradually lower and 
 lower, until at last it rolled into a ditch. Then and 
 only then did the Germans reappear, one fat soldier 
 going over to it and giving it a vicious kick. 
 
 An instance of air camaraderie was that of the 
 Bosche who brought Pegoud down after a fight in 
 mid-air. Hearing that he had been killed, and 
 where he was to be buried, he came over and 
 dropped a wreath on the scene of his burial ground 
 a pretty compliment that was greatly appreciated. 
 The story concerning Captain M is the 
 
76 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 most striking of the war. Poor fellow, he has since 
 been killed. It happened one very misty morning. 
 
 M was on a reconnaissance trip. His engine 
 
 failed and had to come down a good ten miles 
 behind their lines. However, he landed safely, 
 and had just burnt his machine, when he saw three 
 dark figures coming tip out of the fog, and taking 
 discretion to be the better part of valour he fled, 
 and hid himself in a ditch hard by. He was there 
 for the whole of a day and a night, and it has since 
 been ascertained that there were close on five 
 thousand Bosches searching for him the whole 
 time. When he found the coast was clear, he crept 
 out of the ditch, and marched off boldly down the 
 road until he met a friendly Belgian peasant; from 
 this chap he wheedled an old suit of clothes, and, 
 thus attired, walked on nearly to Lille. Here he 
 acted somewhat foolishly. He boarded a tramcar 
 bound for the city, not knowing where to ask to be 
 put down. The car was full of Prussian officers. 
 The man came for his fare; and for a moment he 
 was nonplussed. Then he had a brain-wave. Re- 
 membering that every town in Belgium possesses 
 a glorified market square, he demanded a la grande 
 place, s'il vous plait, and pulled out a handful of 
 silver coins to pay the man. Such a thing as a 
 silver coin had not been seen in Lille for months, 
 ever since the Germans had captured it in fact. 
 Fortunately the Prussians were too much occupied 
 
SOME ANECDOTES 77 
 
 in their own conversation to take any notice of 
 ein schweinhund of a Belgian peasant. Arrived in 
 the city, luck again favoured him, and he obtained 
 shelter in a garret for three weeks. Then the 
 police grew suspicious, and late one night he was 
 forced to clear out hurriedly. After leaving the 
 city he had a terrible time. He tramped right 
 across Belgium, always at night, and every moment 
 in fear of his life, feeding on anything he could 
 find, crusts and offal thrown to the pigs, and stale 
 bread thrown away by the German soldiers. Foot- 
 sore, weary, hungry and exhausted he at last arrived 
 at the Dutch frontier. Here occurred another 
 agonising wait. Again for a day and a night he 
 lay hidden in a ditch, until late that evening the 
 sentry paused on his beat to light his pipe. This was 
 his opportunity. It was a moonlight night. He 
 dashed across the intervening space. The sentry fired 
 three shots and missed each time. He got across 
 Holland, to a seaport town, stowed himself aboard 
 a fishing smack, got to England and reported him- 
 self to the astonished officials at the War Office, 
 This reminds me of a story told by a certain 
 famous airman, a little man with a great heart, on 
 whose breast there are the flaring crimson of the 
 French Legion d'Honneur and the crimson and 
 blue of the Distinguished Service Order. I will 
 give you his own words. " I went over the lines 
 'ith X for an observer. He'd never been 
 
THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 
 over the lines before and I must confess that I 
 felt a wee bit shaky as to how he would take it. 
 Luckily we got across without a single shot being 
 fired at us and then we met a Taube, coming 
 right down wind at about ninety miles, and at 
 
 about our own level. I looked at X , who for 
 
 a time, was too busy watching the other chap 
 coming up to notice me, but finally he turned and 
 smiled, and I knew he was all right. c Got the 
 Lewis-gun ready ? ' I bawled into his ear. He 
 nodded, and then we cleared the decks for action, 
 so to speak. He put a fresh tray of ammunition 
 on the gun, and got two other trays ready by the 
 side of him, while I had a look at the bombs and 
 grenades, and put the joy-stick about a bit just 
 to see that she was all right. The other chap still 
 kept on, and was only about a hundred yards off 
 
 when X opened fire, zipp-zipp-zipp-zipp, 
 
 seventy-eight of the little beggars slick into the 
 middle of him. Gave him hell, I can tell you; at 
 all events he didn't stick it long. Down went the 
 nose of his machine, and he was very soon about 
 a thousand feet beneath us. I loosed off all my 
 bombs, quick as I could, missed every time, had 
 a shot with a grenade and missed again. I must 
 confess I felt a wee bit flurried that morning and 
 
 then X began. Never laughed so much in 
 
 all my life. He laid his hands on everything, his 
 hat and his glasses Government glasses, by the 
 
IVS 
 
 SOME ANECDOTES 79 
 
 way and his revolver and spare cartridges. 
 Thank God! There was nothing of mine in 
 the front there." 
 
 Not nearly so pleasant, however, was the experi- 
 ence of a certain seaplane pilot, who when flying 
 across the Channel from Belgium to England was 
 forced by engine trouble to come down on to the 
 sea, in the midst of our own mine-fields, very far 
 removed from the track of all shipping. Here he 
 remained for eleven and half hours, until sighted 
 by a torpedo-boat, which though unable to reach 
 him herself, was able to give warning ashore, so 
 that a small motor-boat succeeded in finding a way 
 through the mines, rescued the pilot, but was forced 
 to abandon the machine. 
 
 Another story concerning Pegoud. The Ger- 
 ans brought Pegoud down, when flying one of 
 the new French machines, that are supposed to 
 have so many wonderful new improvements aboard, 
 and that they're so secretive about. He didn't have 
 time to burn it and the Huns were very keen 
 on learning how the thing flew. So they tackled 
 Pegoud on the subject. He said he was perfectly 
 willing to give them an exhibition himself, but 
 they didn't care for the idea. " Yes, and when you 
 get up there you'll fly away back to your own lines 
 again." " Very well," he said; " send two of your 
 men up with revolvers and let them sit one on each 
 side of me, so that I won't be able to get away." 
 
 
8o 
 
 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 To this they afterwards agreed, and the first fine 
 morning Pegoud, with the two men sitting on each 
 side of the fuselage, goes up about 10,000 feet. 
 Then one of the Huns began to get impatient. 
 Said he : "I think we'd better go down now." 
 u That's all right," Pegoud answered, " you're 
 going." And with that he put his joy-stick down. 
 She went over a good clean loop, and the Bosches 
 went down quicker than they bargained for. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 SPORT EXTRAORDINARY 
 
 Somewhere in the North of France, 
 
 Monday. 
 
 THERE is an undoubted fascination in being 
 about at sunrise on a clear, fine morning. And 
 especially so when up in the air. 
 
 Our day was of this variety. A day when a 
 man's heart yearns for a moor, a dog, and a gun. 
 For moor we had the long, flat, dreary sandhill and 
 marshes of the Belgian coast; a dog was not needed, 
 and in fact would have been in the way. 
 
 And our gun was not of a type particularly 
 well-known or approved of in sporting circles a 
 " Lewis " machine-gun, fitted above with a tray of 
 forty-seven cartridges. 
 
 Our quest was " wild ducks," an idea as novel 
 as it was entertaining, originating with the padre 
 of the station a cheery individual, who divided 
 his attention between writing insufferably bad 
 verse, and collecting mess-subscriptions from 
 irritated members. 
 
 The sun rose over the sea, lighting the blue 
 Si 
 
82 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 
 surface with a thousand scintillating rays. The 
 tents of the camps thousands of feet below began 
 to show up against the grey of the earth, and the 
 red flashes of the rifle volleys combined with the 
 white cloud and roar of the belching heavy-gun 
 to complete our picture of the waking world. 
 
 But we had not much time to pay attention to 
 these matters, for our minds and eyes were con- 
 centrated on the one subject. 
 
 From what direction would they first appear? 
 Would they come up to us, or would we have to 
 put " her " down to them? The sun was well up 
 in the sky, and signs of life and movement were 
 beginning to make themselves manifest "down 
 there,' ' before several tiny black specks appeared on 
 the horizon coming up from the ground behind 
 the marshes at Nieuport. 
 
 We brought the aeroplane round, to get the 
 birds between the sun and ourselves, and with the 
 wind at their backs, so as not to be aware of our 
 approach. However, they turned off seawards, 
 and again we had to change our course, until they 
 seemed to be at too great a distance for us ever 
 to get them within gun range. The noise of the 
 
 racing engine must have reached them on this new 
 o & 
 
 tack, for we were now only half-head on to the 
 wind; but of this they took not the slightest notice, 
 keeping on their way a regular and well-ordered 
 flock. 
 
SPORT EXTRAORDINARY 83 
 
 As a matter of fact this could be explained 
 by the reason that birds in that neighbour- 
 hood must have become so entirely used to the 
 whirr of a passing aeroplane, for as many as 
 a score passed over this same district every fine 
 day. 
 
 We now changed our tactics, and brought her 
 round with the sun at our backs, casting a shadow 
 across the path of the moving flock, and a small 
 dull replica which moved in an alarming and 
 amazing manner across field and hedge, house and 
 farm, beneath. 
 
 At last we were getting up with them, and to 
 signalise the happy event the padre let off a dozen 
 rounds, which went very far wide of the mark, and 
 only served to divide the flock into two portions, 
 the larger of which continued in a seaward 
 direction. 
 
 These we determined to follow, and coming 
 down to 500 feet, opened the engine " full out " 
 to close on 100 miles an hour. 
 
 Never before had one realised the wonderful 
 speed which these birds can keep up when on the 
 wing. For with all our great speed we were yet 
 far behind, and every moment drawing nearer to 
 the sea, across which at this extremely low altitude 
 we dare not venture. 
 
 Thus it seemed as if we should have to return, 
 defeated and discomfited, to a scoffing, chaffing 
 
 
84 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 audience on the aerodrome, still visible some five 
 miles to the south-east. 
 
 However, immediately before reaching the sea- 
 shore our quarry turned again, and this time along 
 the coast. Then, banking her over to the new 
 direction, we found ourselves " down-wind " with 
 an additional speed at the back of us of 15 m. p. h., 
 which soon began to tell. The padre began to get 
 unduly excited, and succeeded in giving a not un- 
 musical series of u zimms" on the gun; the car- 
 tridges falling spent and useless on to the sand- 
 dunes; there were no casualties. Undaunted, we 
 kept on, taking care this time to get nearer up. 
 The enemy were beginning to tire by this time, so 
 putting in a fresh tray of ammunition, our courage- 
 ous marksman let fly, with excellent results, three 
 of the rearguard speeding headlong down to the 
 earth. The pangs of a not unnatural hunger now 
 beginning to make themselves evident, and finding 
 ourselves some thirty miles from home, we turned 
 her head for home and there eventually arrived, 
 happy and hungry, after having set a new fashion 
 in sporting and aviation circles, and discovered 
 a new form of amusement and speculation for 
 the blase ones, who had deserted their card-tables 
 and cheap French novelettes to welcome us on our 
 return. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 A BALLOON-TRIP BY NIGHT 
 
 IMAGINE a great bare meadow-land, lonely, wind- 
 swept, and dark with inky blackness, out of 
 which there plunges an occasional hurrying figure, 
 that misses one by inches and passes on with a 
 muttered oath. In the background, tall and 
 sinister, two large gasometers. In the centre of 
 the field a wide tarpaulin laid along the ground, 
 and edged by a circle of sand-bags, from the midst 
 of which there rises a great round shape, like a 
 mammoth tomato. 
 
 It is the balloon not yet fully inflated, fed by two 
 curling rubber tubes, that disappear in the direction 
 of the gasworks. We are waiting, waiting patiently 
 until she fills. Blackened, distorted shapes, that 
 stand around in eerie circle, and at the sudden 
 gruff command of a hoarse voice that booms ever 
 and anon out of the voids of darkness, seize each 
 a heavy sandbag and slowly and clumsily lower it 
 mesh by mesh in the netting that covers the 
 balloon. 
 
86 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 At last she is filled. The car is attached below, 
 as rapidly and securely as the faint and flickering 
 light of a stable lamp will allow of. The crew 
 tumble in, one on top of another. She is let up 
 only to be pulled down again with a nerve-racking 
 bump. The gruff voice decides that she is now 
 ready to get off; there is a slight slackening of 
 ropes, an almost imperceptible lift, the figures on 
 the ground recede rapidly, grotesque shadows 
 in the darkness, and the lights begin to disappear 
 one by one. 
 
 We rise to a ticklish situation; there are tall 
 trees, factory-chimneys, and protruding roofs all 
 waiting calm and invisible in the night, to be 
 crashed into and collided with. But all these 
 obstacles we may miss if we have only sufficient 
 preparatory lift. We are all silent and cowed, 
 trying to make out each other's faces. There is 
 a sudden tearing sound. The craft lurches like a 
 drunken man and we are thrown a struggling 
 breathless mass into a corner. But the suspense is 
 only momentary. By a miracle of grace, she frees 
 herself from the branches of a tree, and soars 
 rapidly heavenwards. 
 
 Eagerly we watch the glimmering, winding 
 streak of grey that is the river, and our only 
 visible landmark; apparently we are making off in 
 a north and west direction. Once out of the 
 shelter of the houses and the trees, the breeze is 
 
A BALLOON-TRIP BY NIGHT 87 
 
 stiffish : in fact, considerably more so than was 
 expected. 
 
 What is this sensation like? Dark to the left 
 of us, dark to the right of us, dark on top of us, 
 and darker below us; in a frail uncontrollable craft, 
 that drifts aimlessly and helplessly before every 
 varying wind of the heavens. Unlike the aero- 
 plane the passage is easy and pleasant, free from 
 noise and we know we are flying. North and 
 west, but the first change of the wind, and we 
 will be bowling along merrily in quite another 
 direction. 
 
 It is quiet, intensely quiet, no motion of any 
 kind to be felt. But where are we ? Occasionally 
 we discover a small patch of light that may be a 
 village, again a larger patch, evidently of a town. 
 We watch the altimeter with as much loving care, 
 as a mother would her child, for it is our sole 
 deliverer from destruction. How it varies : now it 
 is 8coo feet, now 2500. If possible, we try to keep 
 above the latter level. The surface of the country 
 is unfortunately not too level, and as the altimeter 
 registers height above sea and not land level, allow- 
 ance must be made. Ballast is ready to hand for 
 emergency uses. 
 
 At last the depressing silence is broken; one 
 youth, wiser than his years, has remembered to 
 provide himself with food. It is handed round, 
 and over beef sandwiches we get communicative. 
 
 
88 
 
 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 
 It gives us fresh life and inspires one of the party 
 with a humorous turn of mind, to recite with 
 great vividness and vivacity all the alarming acci- 
 dents that have befallen night-balloonists, conclud- 
 ing with an impious hope, " that we likewise may 
 have some fun." 
 
 We get it ! 
 
 Happily, as we are wallowing in the throes of 
 this most dismal expectancy, the conversation is 
 turned by an eager and heated discussion between 
 two younger members of the party, as to the merits 
 and demerits of their respective musical-comedy 
 idols (female). The argument grows in intensity. 
 But we have neglected to watch the altimeter. Out 
 of the inky darkness below there rushes a volcano 
 of spark and flame. It is a railway-train speeding 
 on through the night. Sheepishly we discover that 
 we are only 800 feet, and wonder unpleasantly what 
 might have been. 
 
 On and on through the night. Now we are 
 getting tired; there are suggestions that we should 
 land, but they are overruled. Coming down again 
 to 800 feet, we catch sight of a wide glimmering 
 sheet of water. Maps are seized in a hasty impulse 
 to guess our whereabouts. The argument grows 
 heated, for similar stretches of water there are, 
 alike in Essex, Kent, Surrey, Middlesex and Berk- 
 shire : in fact, in every one of the Home Counties, 
 and for the matter of that in the Midlands, and 
 
 
A BALLOON-TRIP BY NIGHT 89 
 
 likewise in every county in England, Scotland, 
 Ireland and Wales. 
 
 The argument abates, our eyes grow weary and 
 more weary. It seems a life-time since we last 
 saw the pleasant and undulating lines of the earth. 
 One or two heads are already nodding, when there 
 is a sudden shout of " the dawn." Instantly all 
 are wide awake. There sure enough, are the first 
 few streaks of grey creeping slowly across the 
 eastern sky; without even that, it would be an 
 obvious matter, by reason of that intense cold, 
 which, in the air, always precedes the hour of day- 
 break and freezes us to the bone. 
 
 It would be an inadequate expression to say that 
 dawn in the air is beautiful. It is more than 
 beautiful, it is wonderful. It is more than won- 
 derful, it is unusual; a view only to be enjoyed 
 by the minority, and that of the smallest. Gradu- 
 ally earth and sky begin to dissemble. In tint the 
 picture is white, black, grey, blue, crimson, golden, 
 purple, green and every other colour now like 
 a painter's canvas smudged with regular irregulari- 
 ties, edged with red and grey, now an animated 
 panorama stirring with resuscitated life. The sun 
 rises, a ball of flame above the horizon, lighting up 
 the rotund shape of the balloon with an unearthly 
 hue. 
 
 We say nothing, but look and marvel; a word 
 would be out of place in this sacred and awesome 
 
9 
 
 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 stillness, Suddenly we are roused by a cry, more, 
 much more, alarming than the last. 
 
 The sea! We are almost on top of it. In 
 shimmering, level surface it stretches on into ob- 
 scurity. We are lost. We cannot avoid it, yet 
 less can we land thereon. One of the crew loses 
 his head. He snatches the thin red tape that hangs 
 down from the envelope. There is a tearing, 
 rending sound. 
 
 He has ripped the balloon at 2000 feet. Pious 
 prayers and curses intermingle. Down she sinks, 
 with a great hole rent in her side down and down, 
 faster and faster. Over go the bags of ballast, one 
 after another. Now all have been dropped. She 
 slackens speed; but only momentarily. Down she 
 goes again, the upward current of air whistles 
 unpleasantly through the rigging. In a last fever- 
 ish effort boots are unlaced and hurled overboard, 
 together with coats and every portable object to 
 hand. 
 
 Too late. We hit the edge of a cliff; bounce 
 back several feet into the air, then sink down on to 
 the beach below. Another crash, again we are 
 bundled and bounced about in the confined space 
 of the car. The sand gets in our ears and eyes 
 and mouths. The balloon lies along the sand a 
 wobegotten shape, as flat as a pancake. When 
 we eventually sort ourselves out, we find luckily, 
 that there is but one casualty : a broken wrist, 
 
A BALLOON-TRIP BY NIGHT 91 
 
 sustained by the foolish idiot that ripped! Just 
 retribution ! 
 
 And to end the adventure, a stolid British police- 
 man, ponderous official-looking note-book in hand, 
 approaches and demands our names and addresses, 
 and asks if we are of British nationality ! 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE WOOD 
 
 flanders, 
 Wednesday. 
 
 SOMEWHERE in the north of France there is a 
 little wood. It is about half a mile square in area, 
 and stands immediately south of a fine, broad 
 highroad, along which there daily pass large bodies 
 of reinforcements, infantry and cavalry, and con- 
 voys bringing up ammunition and supplies. The 
 tall trees offer a welcome shade in the hot weather, 
 and it was the custom for passing troops to halt 
 there for a short time; and just at the spot the 
 roadside was always well littered with broken 
 bottles. Needless to state, it was in German 
 territory. 
 
 However, had it not been for that road, and for 
 the fact that on this certain day, when the road 
 had been closed to all traffic, there were certain 
 mysterious movements of ponderous great wagons, 
 suspiciously like ammunition wagons, which halted 
 in the shade of the wood, this story would never 
 have been written. 
 
 9* 
 

 THE BATTLE OF THE WOOD 93 
 
 The day was hot, and the work was heavy, and 
 mein hen captain paused for a moment to curse 
 his uncongenial task, and take a long draught from 
 his water bottle, of some liquor that certainly was 
 not water. In the midst thereof he let it fall 
 with a curse of rage and surprise, for there over- 
 head, as if it had suddenly appeared from the 
 clouds, was the form of a British aeroplane. 
 " Himmel," he exclaimed, " all our trouble wasted, 
 they have our hiding spot discovered, and to- 
 morrow morning they bomb us ach! " 
 
 The worthy gentleman was not far out in his 
 deduction, for the lynx-eye of the observer in the 
 aeroplane had carefully noted the exact geo- 
 graphical position of that new ammunition park, 
 before the machine sped off homewards. But he 
 was wrong to a certain extent; our Flying Corps 
 are no fools, and they realised that Mr. Bosche 
 would soon expect a return visit, and would be 
 fully prepared therefor. This course was, there- 
 fore, useless to them; it was essential that that 
 ammunition park must be destroyed, but in a 
 manner and at a time the Germans least expected, 
 and this is how it was accomplished. 
 
 Towards evening a light scouting machine sped 
 swiftly away from a certain British aerodrome, only 
 a few miles behind the firing lines. No untoward 
 incident that, but it was particularly conspicuous 
 from the fact that the entire aerodrome had turned 
 
 
94 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 
 out to wish the trip God-speed, to wish the pilot, 
 a young second Lieutenant of the Canadian 
 Infantry, the best of luck, and to cram the fuselage 
 of the machine with spare ammunition, until she 
 could barely " stagger" off the ground. The 
 objective was the ammunition park already men- 
 tioned. With long, sweeping circles the scout 
 soon cleared the area of the firing lines, and arrived 
 over the wood. 
 
 Still nothing happened, the whole countryside 
 was remarkably quiet for a battle area. No anti- 
 aircraft guns fired, no enemy aircraft came hum- 
 ming round. Lower came the pilot to investigate. 
 Still nothing happened; he, on his part, now began 
 to feel genuinely alarmed, unless of course that 
 confounded observer had been " seeing " things, 
 a not unknown failing with aeroplane observers. 
 
 Meanwhile in the midst of the wood, the cor- 
 pulent captain watched the small speck carefully 
 with his glasses, then rubbed his fat hands with 
 glee and expectation. The fool Englishman was 
 falling beautifully into his little trap. Involun- 
 tarily he glanced over his shoulder, and there in 
 a large clearing behind the wood, were ten great 
 German battle-planes, all ready to go up at a 
 moment's notice and with pilots and observers 
 standing by. 
 
 By this time the British machine had come 
 considerably lower, and was well behind the wood, 
 
: 
 
 
 THE BATTLE OF THE WOOD 95 
 
 and into the German country. The captain gave 
 a sharp, guttural order. Immediately the noise 
 of ten great propellers smote the still air, and the 
 squadron rose swiftly from the wood like a covey 
 of wild ducks. The hated Englishman was hope- 
 lessly trapped. 
 
 And what of our man? Turning leisurely to 
 make a last reconnaissance of the wood, he found 
 ten great German battle-planes between himself 
 and the lines. He cursed profusely at his own 
 crass stupidity. He had been warned, and he had 
 thought fit to ignore the warning, and this was the 
 result. Anyway he would make a good fight for 
 it. He fingered his machine-gun cautiously. Yes, 
 everything was ready to hand. He set his teeth, 
 opened his engine " full out " and began to climb 
 rapidly. 
 
 The Germans also climbed, and within a very 
 short space of time he found himself hemmed in 
 on all sides, with lead flying at him from all points, 
 and at all angles. Anyhow, he determined to have a 
 good run for his life, and singling out two Germans 
 immediately beneath him, he dived rapidly. As 
 he did so, he was hit by shrapnel; for a short space 
 of time he was unconscious, then again regaining 
 control of his machine, began to use his machine- 
 gun to good effect. 
 
 First one German he drove to the ground, then 
 another, and then a third. His blood was up now, 
 
 
9 6 
 
 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 and he turned round for further victims, but 
 Huns had had sufficient for one day, and were 
 scuttling off to peace and safety. He turned 
 homewards, and his wound was becoming agonis- 
 ing, as a bombing squadron of our own machines 
 passed by. 
 
 Very soon there arose from the wood violent 
 explosions and blinding sheets of flame, and by 
 the time the British bombing squadron had finished 
 its full design, all that remained of the fat captain's 
 ammunition park were a few broken and shattered 
 wagons, and a heap of dead and dying men. 
 
' 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 A TIGHT CORNER 
 
 Somewhere in France, 
 
 Friday. 
 
 THE other day, yesterday afternoon to be exact, 
 a most exciting adventure befell me. I was detailed 
 to take part in a bombing raid at - . We had 
 not proceeded far beyond our own lines, after the 
 customary bombardment of anti-aircraft shells, 
 when suddenly the machine immediately in front 
 of us rocked violently, and began to dive towards 
 the earth. " B 's been hit, 5 J my observer bawled 
 into my ear. I continued to watch the machine 
 in its headlong descent. Alas, it was only too true ! 
 There was no possible escape : after diving steeply 
 six hundred feet, the machine had begun to spin, 
 and was now whirling round and round like a 
 humming-top, and hardly a minute after, had 
 crashed into the midst of a wood, from which there 
 immediately came up a cloud of grey smoke and 
 
 leaping tongue of flame. 
 
 We had started out four strong; our mission 
 being to raid M , a large German military 
 
 97 
 
 
THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 
 centre, containing a staff headquarters, an ammu- 
 nition park, and a large aerodrome. And now our 
 machine was the sole survivor, two having been 
 shot down when crossing the lines. Alone and 
 single-handed, in a notoriously dangerous portion 
 of the enemy's lines, every moment we were liable 
 to be fired at from all quarters, and attacked by 
 enemy aircraft. 
 
 I looked searchingly at my observer; it was his 
 first trip across the lines, and I had to admit to 
 myself that never before, in my six months of 
 flying at the front, had I been in such a deucedly 
 uncomfortable position. How would he take it? 
 I hesitated. Should we turn back to safety, or 
 should we continue on our way to what was almost 
 certain death? I glanced at his face, it was stern 
 and set, with the deliberation of the man who is 
 willing to risk everything. With his left hand 
 he patted and fondled the deadly machine-gun. I 
 determined to go on. 
 
 Then they opened fire on us again. Apparently 
 for the last few minutes they had all deserted their 
 guns and had been busy gaping at the remains of 
 
 poor B 's machine; but now, flushed with their 
 
 recent success, they commenced to fire with demo- 
 niacal fury. Shots burst behind, before, above, 
 below : one minute immediately over the nose, the 
 next immediately beneath the tail of the machine. 
 To avoid them we climbed, and dived, and banked 
 
A TIGHT CORNER 99 
 
 in all directions, until her old ribs began to groan 
 and creak from sheer exertion, and she threatened 
 every moment to fly asunder in mid-air. At last 
 we got clear of them, and sighted our objective, 
 just as the sun broke through the clouds, and 
 revealed to us a stretch of low, flat-lying country, 
 dotted here and there with villages and camps and 
 ammunition bases. M - showed up easily, it 
 was a moderate-sized town of ant-like pigmy 
 dwellings, little white and grey patches in the bril- 
 liant sunlight. A small winding river skirted the 
 town, looking for all the world against the dark 
 background like the vein in a man's arm. North 
 and south ran the gleaming, glinting railway lines, 
 and a large road led up from the town to the firing 
 line. This road was now converged with traffic of 
 all descriptions. We dropped a bomb, but it was 
 very wide of the mark, and it served to draw the 
 enemy's fire, which again broke out all round us 
 with renewed fury. M - was better supplied 
 with anti-aircraft guns than any other position on 
 the German front. Higher and yet higher we 
 climbed until we were well above the clouds, and 
 the earth was almost hidden from our sight. By 
 this simple and expedient ruse de guerre we might 
 be able to get over the city before the gunners 
 were aware of our existence. But alas for our 
 well laid plans! We had not gone far when we 
 encountered a great double-engined Albatross, 
 
ioo THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 and there, with the white billowy clouds stretching 
 like waves of a gigantic sea in all directions, we 
 fought our battle of life and death. Fritz opened 
 the encounter by sweeping down upon us at top 
 speed, pouring out a steady stream of lead from the 
 machine-gun in the nose of his machine. To avoid 
 this we climbed rapidly, and he flashed by, beneath 
 us, at an alarming rate. We attempted to bomb 
 him, but it was futile, and the bomb fell down- 
 wards to the earth below. 
 
 We turned as soon as were able, and waited for 
 the enemy to recommence the attack. He was all 
 out now, and putting on top speed bore down upon 
 us with the speed of an express train. Nearer and 
 yet nearer he drew. Thankfully I noticed that we 
 were both at the same altitude. When yet about 
 a quarter of a mile distant, his observer opened fire, 
 the bullets flying all around us in a leaden stream, 
 and still we did not reply. I looked at my observer. 
 He was bending over his gun, fumbling about with 
 some portion of the mechanism. There was no 
 need to ask what was the matter. Alas! I knew 
 too well. The gun had jammed. Now followed a 
 ticklish time for both of us, for without the gun 
 we were completely unarmed, and Fritz was draw- 
 ing nearer every second. Already I could hear 
 and feel his bullets singing past my head, occa- 
 sionally chipping portions of the machine. Now 
 he was right level with us. What were we to do ? 
 
A TIGHT CORNER 101 
 
 To remain in that same position would mean cer- 
 tain death. If we climbed, he would climb faster, 
 and would almost immediately be up with us again. 
 There was only one thing to be done the unex- 
 pected ! So putting her nose-down, we dived 
 towards the earth like a stone, and had gone 
 over a thousand feet before I could get her 
 level again. This manoeuvre so upset the calcula- 
 tions of the enemy, that he was now about three 
 quarters of a mile distant. This gave us precious 
 time to prepare again for the attack. The observer 
 was still working feverishly away, when we com- 
 menced to climb. Fritz had already turned and 
 was coming down to meet us; but we had the 
 advantage this time of having the wind behind our 
 backs. If only that infernal gun were ready ! Up 
 we climbed, and down came Fritz; all the faster 
 because he knew we were comparatively unarmed. 
 Now we were under half a mile distant, now only 
 a quarter, and now he had commenced to fire. 
 Would we never reply? At last! Brrr! Brrr! 
 Brrr ! yapped the gun in our bows. 
 
 Fritz was so startled at this unexpected develop- 
 ment that for a moment he paused in his firing. 
 
 This was our opportunity; taking steady aim J 
 
 put the whole drum of 47 cartridges into his back 
 in three bursts. He staggered and reeled, he was 
 hit; I felt I wanted to cry out for sheer joy, but my 
 throat was parched and dry. Oh! the reaction 
 
 
102 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 after that dreadful ten minutes. But although we 
 had hit him, Fritz was yet by no means out of 
 running, that is if he elected to remain and fight 
 it out, which I doubted extremely; for the Hun is 
 ever super-courageous when he has an unarmed 
 and helpless foe to deal with. So throttling her 
 down I watched him anxiously. Turning to the 
 left he started off at top speed in the direction of 
 his own base. This I had expected, and off we 
 started in his trail with only another half-hour's 
 petrol in our tanks. On and on he flew, over wood 
 and town, and we were close in the rear, both flying 
 at top speed. Every moment he was getting lower. 
 I knew only too well what that meant. He was 
 trying to lead us into a trap, where we would make 
 a set target for a ring of his anti-aircraft guns. 
 We must never let this happen or we should be 
 finished for a certainty. If we could only catch up 
 with him; but it was in vain we wished, for he was 
 yet a quarter of a mile ahead, when, as usual, the 
 unexpected happened. He had engine trouble. 
 Within five minutes we were almost on top of him. 
 He commenced to sink like a stone. Now was 
 our opportunity, an opportunity which our ob- 
 server was not slow to take advantage of. Right 
 into the middle of his back flew the steady stream 
 of bullets. Again he reeled, and this time there 
 was that peculiar fluttering of the wings, which 
 tells only too plainly that an aeroplane is " out 
 
A TIGHT CORNER 103 
 
 of control." Like poor B he commenced to 
 
 whirl round like a humming-top, then with one 
 long last plunge he had crashed into one of his 
 own encampments, and all was over. 
 
 We were left to reach our own lines with twenty 
 minutes' petrol remaining, and under a violent 
 bombardment of the enemy " Archies." 
 * * * * * 
 
 Again an interesting personal account, told in 
 the words of the pilot participating in a Zepp 
 Strafe : 
 
 The orderly from the telephone room brought 
 the news. Zeppelins had been sighted at 
 and were proceeding in a northerly direction. This 
 meant that they would be overhead at any moment. 
 
 A few sharp orders and the station began to 
 throb with life. 
 
 Mechanics hurried hither and thither, some to 
 the sheds to get out the machine, others to fetch 
 the bombs and a Very's pistol from the armoury; 
 yet others to lay out the light flares across the 
 aerodrome in order that upon our return we might 
 perchance be able to define the right landing 
 ground. 
 
 Compasses, electric light torches and maps were 
 dragged hurriedly from their hiding-places in 
 lockers. A general bearing was taken of the 
 enemy's course, and we ran out on to the aero- 
 
 
104 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 drome, where a searchlight had already begun 
 work, sending long, scintillating beams of light 
 across the dark night sky, turning and twisting, 
 first in one quarter, then in another, covering the 
 heavens in the twinkling of an eye, but never dis- 
 closing the true object of its search. 
 
 At last there is a shout from one of the men by 
 the light. He had discovered the whereabouts of 
 the Zeppelin. Yes! there she is! A long, grey 
 cigar-shaped object far up in the clouds. 
 
 We hurried across to the machine, and while I 
 examined the bombs in the bomb-rack beneath the 
 fuselage (body), and attended to the fitting-in of 
 the Lewis-gun, the pilot tested the engine. And 
 before five minutes had elapsed since the first alarm 
 we were off the ground. 
 
 Who can well and truly describe the sensations 
 of night flying ? Suddenly one is hurled from the 
 ground into an unbounded space of darkness at the 
 rate of fifty miles an hour. It is like jumping off 
 a cliff on a dark night and plunging on and on, one 
 knows not where. It is impossible to see beyond 
 one's nose, and the only thing that seems real and 
 natural is the incessantly loud hum of the engine. 
 It is a by no means pleasant task. 
 
 Leaving the ground we miss a roof-top by 
 inches, and, feeling considerably shaken, climb 
 rapidly. At first it is dark, pitch dark. We see 
 nothing, we know not where we are. One would 
 
A TIGHT CORNER 105 
 
 Jose one's reason were it not for the hum of the 
 racing engine. 
 
 At last there breaks through the long shadows 
 of darkness, beneath us, a long, narrow, winding 
 ribbon of shimmering grey. The young moon has 
 broken through the clouds and the reflection of its 
 light upon the water gives us the position of the 
 river. On either side or moving slowly along the 
 surface are small pin-pricks of coloured lights; I 
 switch on my electric light in front of the ob- 
 servor's seat, glance at the altimeter, and discover 
 that we are already 500 feet up. 
 
 The glare of that light, feeble though it be when 
 contrasted with the black darkness of the atmo- 
 sphere around, has got into my eyes, and for a 
 moment or two I can distinguish absolutely no- 
 thing. Then lights begin to make themselves 
 visible. 
 
 The street lamps can easily be distinguished; as 
 being darkened at the top the light is concentrated 
 downwards in a circle on to the pavement beneath, 
 which serves the purpose of reflecting it heaven- 
 wards and upwards. The main streets can be 
 picked out by the two parallel lines of coloured 
 lights; the windows of shops, the lights of which 
 have been covered with red and green shades. 
 
 I have another look at the altimeter. Only a 
 thousand, but still climbing steadily. Into a dark 
 bare patch of land far below there comes rushing 
 
 
106 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 
 a flaring, glaring gleam of light, followed by a 
 string of smaller lights. I puzzle out what this 
 strange apparition may be. It is a railway train. 
 
 As we mount yet higher we begin to lose all our 
 bearings, and all sight of the earth beneath. A 
 much more beautiful earth when compared with 
 the dull, prosaic everyday affair, looking for all 
 the world like a huge garden decorated with a 
 myriad of multi-coloured lights. It is difficult to 
 realise that those few, straggling, irregular rows of 
 lamps encompass seven million living souls; that 
 there far below us sleepily blinking and twinkling 
 is the greatest city of the world. 
 
 The altimeter registers 5000 ft. Getting nearer 
 to the Zepp altitude, yet no sign! The anxiety 
 of waiting and suspense is becoming insufferable. 
 Nothing but the incessant throb of the engine. 
 But I have spoken too soon ! Out of the darkness 
 and blackness there rushes past, with the speed of 
 an express train, a black unholy shape. 
 
 Suddenly there is the most violent cannonade; 
 a sure sign that the anti-aircraft gunners have 
 spotted their quarry. Searchlights from all direc- 
 tions are in a second of time 'concentrated upon 
 ourselves, while they are endeavouring to get the 
 range. This latter, much to the disgust of the 
 pilot, who, blinded by the glare, banks too steeply, 
 just in time saves her from a nose-dive, and 
 consigns all anti-aircraft gunners to a certain 
 
A TIGHT CORNER 107 
 
 well-known locality possessed of a permanent and 
 extremely warm climate. 
 
 We are in luck's way, however; for presently the 
 guns are all silenced. The searchlights go out one 
 by one. All becomes quiet and dark, dismally 
 dark. We cruise around for another ten minutes 
 or so, then descend cautiously and gradually. 
 With one eye glued to the altimeter, to make 
 certain of the height, I peer over the side with 
 the other to pick up the first sign of lights or 
 landmarks. 
 
 Eight thousand feet! Seven thousand feet! 
 Getting horribly cold ! Six thousand ! Five thou- 
 sand ! Shall we never get down ? Four thousand ! 
 Three thousand ! it seems like an age. Two thou- 
 sand! One thousand! Cautiously now or our 
 necks will be broken ! 
 
 At last we are safe back on Mother Earth 
 again, and very thankfully seek the refuge of our 
 beds! 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 AN AIR FIGHT WITH A HUN 
 
 Somewhere in the North of France, 
 Saturday. 
 
 TO-DAY our special delight has been a bombard- 
 ment from enemy aeroplanes. 
 
 They came over about noon and roused the fear- 
 ful and subdued the proud while we were all at 
 lunch. They circled overhead for about five 
 minutes, dropped a dozen or so bombs, then 
 cleared off hurriedly before our own men had time 
 to get away. 
 
 One man here had a most ingenious " funkhole " 
 for aerial bombardment. He utilised a large stone 
 drain-pipe for this purpose, and it was his custom 
 when enemy aircraft were reported to be in sight 
 to crawl into this thing, take a book with him, 
 and calmly read until they had taken their depart- 
 ure. He advertised this comic shelter one day 
 
 as 
 
 " A novel bijou residence, completely detached, 
 every convenience, within easy reach of the firing 
 
 1 08 
 
AN AIR FIGHT WITH A HUN 109 
 
 line. Bullets and bombs pass the door every few 
 moments." 
 
 Figuratively speaking, our mission was target- 
 registering. 
 
 But having previously heard that the " mother" 
 (naval 9 '2-inch gun) with which we were to have 
 worked was incapacitated, and the afternoon being 
 fine and sunny, we determined to seek adventure 
 further afield, and turning her nose in a south- 
 easterly direction kept straight on. 
 
 " Am making for Dixmude to see if we can raise 
 a Hun or two." 
 
 This latter by means of a note passed over my 
 shoulder by the pilot. And here let it be said that 
 a proper understanding between pilot and observer 
 is one of the essential features of war flying. What 
 the latter misses the former often picks up, for 
 when flying at high altitudes of over 10,000 feet, 
 field-glasses for observation purposes, with the 
 excessive vibration of the engine, are at first very 
 difficult to manipulate. 
 
 Our machine, one of the latest scouting types, 
 was a beauty. She climbed rapidly and had a fast 
 turn of speed through the air, concerning which 
 latter feature there always seems to exist in the 
 lay mind a deal of misapprehension, especially con- 
 cerning the possibilities and peculiarities of the 
 various types. 
 
 
no THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 The aeroplane is a most curious and difficult 
 machine to build up, because so many different 
 factors have to be taken into consideration in the 
 construction of it. If it be constructed for speed 
 work, it necessitates a large engine, and hence 
 more weight, and with its limited " lifting " capa- 
 city, some other feature has to be sacrificed, very 
 probably petrol-tanks, thus cutting down the pos- 
 sible duration of flight. Similarly speed would 
 have to be sacrificed for duration. 
 
 Thus it will be seen that an aeroplane can only 
 specialise in one feature and cannot possess, at 
 one and the same time, speed, lift, safety, climbing 
 power and long durability. 
 
 The alpha and omega of the adventure was that 
 we were within certain limits free to do what we 
 pleased. This added a certain amount of vim and 
 interest, especially so when compared with target- 
 registering. 
 
 As we sail along the blue sky over green fields 
 and steepled city, my eye constantly roams round 
 in search of enemy aircraft, but thus far with not 
 much luck. 
 
 The firing lines are now far behind us, and we 
 are well over into the enemy's country. One 
 would have thought that before now we should 
 have encountered a stray Aviatik or so, or a 
 patrolling Albatross. 
 
 At last ! In the far distance and coming towards 
 
 
AN AIR FIGHT WITH A HUN in 
 
 us at a great speed " down-wind " is a white-nosed 
 machine, which I distinguished as " Fritz," a single 
 tractor biplane, a hybrid of the Albatross and 
 Aviatik types, fitted with a 225 h.p. Mercedes 
 engine, that gives 90 miles per hour. It has a 
 range of ten hours 5 flight, and carries two Maxim 
 guns one in front, but only firing sideways, and 
 one behind the pilot. 
 
 Immediately thoughts of an aerial combat flash 
 across my mind. I had never taken part in one 
 before, but had often watched them from the com- 
 fortable security of terra frma: during that first 
 moment I had a bad attack of " cold feet." 
 
 A vision of many a hard-fought battle in mid- 
 air came before my eyes. With the opposing 
 machines darting above and below one another 
 like two great birds, the sun glistening on the 
 whitened planes as they turned and twisted, while 
 all around and silhouetted against the deep blue 
 sky were the little black and flame patches of the 
 bursting shrapnel, it was a gloriously fascinating 
 sight. 
 
 The uncertainty held one spellbound. Suddenly 
 one of the machines would put down her nose and 
 descend like a stone to earth; for a moment one's 
 heart was in one's mouth until she would right 
 herself and climb up again into the fray. Some- 
 times these wonderful battles would last as long 
 as forty minutes or an hour, until one or the other 
 
 
THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 would crash down thousands of feet to the earth 
 below. 
 
 In a warfare of long-ranging artillery, and the 
 scientific slaughter of an invisible foe many miles 
 away where hand-to-hand combat was practically 
 unknown, these duels in mid-air were a delight 
 
 o 
 
 to friend and foe alike, for they, and they alone, 
 were favoured with the old-time romance of war, 
 daring and adventure. 
 
 Men in the trenches would leave their rifles, 
 forget the enemy, and gaze with wide-open eyes 
 at what was going on overhead; drivers of am- 
 munition-wagons would pause on their way in 
 the middle of the road craning their necks, the 
 while red-hatted staff-officers would order their 
 cars to be stopped until the fight was over. 
 
 Those two little black specks, suspended thou- 
 sands of feet above were the cynosure of all eyes, 
 and when the stricken machine came low enough 
 for her nationality to be distinguished, if it were 
 a black cross on either wing a shout of sheer joy 
 would burst forth from many an anxious heart; 
 if on the other hand, it were the three circles of 
 red, white, and blue, a sigh would go down the 
 lines like the rustle of the wind through the trees. 
 
 She is almost up to us by this time. I let fire 
 with the machine-gun, but she is still beyond 
 range. Oh, those moments of expectation! 
 Would she fight or turn tail and run? 
 
 I 
 
AN AIR FIGHT WITH A HUN 113 
 
 She elected to do the former and climbed quickly 
 above us. Her pilot opened fire with his machine- 
 gun. The bullets whizzed past our ears, dan- 
 gerously near. 
 
 We climb in turn and lose sight of her for a 
 moment or so. It is a complicated game of blind- 
 man's buff We got up with her at last and both 
 let off simultaneously. There is a language spoken 
 in that act, a language that has neither stops, 
 commas, letters, characters, notes, nor images. It 
 is the language of unbounded hate. Hate to the 
 death. We got above her and " down-wind " 
 this time. Luck is on our side. Another tray of 
 cartridges for the gun quickly! That's got her. 
 She drops sharply. Her pilot must have been hit 
 and lost control of his " joy-stick." We are right 
 on top of her now and let the whole tray of 
 munitions off into her back. 
 
 Suddenly down goes her nose. She rushes 
 earthwards with a very fair speed to waft her pilot 
 to paradise. Faster and faster she travels. Fainter, 
 fainter does our view of her become ! 
 
 Down below the hundreds are waiting anxiously, 
 already glorying in the prize. She's down at last ! 
 
 Most thankfully we turn home. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 A GREAT RAID 
 
 Somewhere in the North of France, 
 
 Monday. 
 
 As I walked across the aerodrome, the feeble 
 rays of the young moon were dying in the west. 
 It was 4.30 in the morning, with an icy-cold nor'- 
 wester shrieking through the tree-tops, and I was 
 very thankful that I had taken the precaution of 
 clothing myself warmly in a wool-lined leather coat 
 and trousers, a pair of long gum boots invaluable 
 for keeping out wet and cold alike a woollen 
 balaclava helmet under my leather aviation cap, 
 and two pairs of gloves to keep my hands from 
 freezing. 
 
 We had received our instructions the previous 
 night. Ten bomb-dropping aeroplanes were to be 
 convoyed by two battle-planes. 
 
 It may be mentioned that a bomb-dropping 
 machine is usually of the fast, scouting variety, 
 with a speed of well over ninety miles per hour, 
 and is a single seater that is to say, it carries no. 
 observer. The reason for this is not very far to 
 
 114 
 
A GREAT RAID 115 
 
 seek. With two men and a machine-gun aboard, 
 very little power remains for a supply of bombs; 
 without an observer and a machine-gun, the bomb 
 supply may be doubled. And the more bombs 
 aboard the more damage can be done to the enemy. 
 
 The battle-plane is either a " pusher" (with the 
 propeller at the rear) aeroplane, mounting a large 
 gun at the prow, or a Caudron with two engines. 
 Its principal duty is to protect the bomb-dropping 
 machine from attack by enemy aircraft. 
 
 The two battle-planes were the first to get away 
 from the ground and the others soon followed. 
 When they had all reached an altitude of 5000 feet, 
 they took up their pre-arranged formation with 
 one of the battle-planes on either wing; then 
 turned their noses eastward towards the sun, and 
 set off in the direction of the enemy lines. 
 
 Far away across the sand-dunes there came the 
 first rays of the rising sun, casting a thousand 
 scintillating gleams across the sea. Out in the 
 channel was a fleet of fishing smacks, heedless of 
 the drifting mines, bowling along merrily before 
 the breeze to their accustomed fishing-ground. 
 The dull grey lines and the smoke-belching funnels 
 of a British destroyer, full out at thirty knots 
 showed as she churned the seas into masses of 
 white foam, leaving in her rear a long white wake. 
 Dotted here and there' were small tramp-steamers 
 and cargo-boats. By the sand-dunes off the coast 
 
 
n6 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 was a long dark shape, which might easily have 
 been mistaken for a whale, had it not been for 
 that tell-tale periscope. It was one of our own 
 submarines. Away in the distance was a dark 
 irregular line, which later in the day and in a 
 stronger light, would reveal itself as the shores 
 of old England. 
 
 A glance at the altimeter the instrument for 
 registering the height revealed the fact that we 
 were now 6000 feet. Still climbing, the course 
 was set further out to sea, to avoid as much as 
 possible the anti-aircraft guns at Westende and 
 Middlekerke. 
 
 Things ashore now began to brighten up. Along 
 and behind the firing line there was the occasional 
 flash of a heavy gun, followed almost immediately 
 by dense clouds of white smoke. Along the roads 
 there crawled, ant-like, the long columns of supply 
 and ammunition wagons. Sometimes a big gun 
 appeared, hauled along by a puffing traction- 
 engine; sometimes a battalion or company of 
 infantry or a squadron of cavalry moving up to 
 the front line. 
 
 Running south and east were the two dull grey 
 straggling lines of opposing trenches, so close 
 together in places that they appeared to run into 
 one another. We were gradually drawing nearer 
 to those much dreaded lines where our real troubles 
 were to begin. Already far up along the coast, 
 
 
A GREAT RAID 117 
 
 it was possible to distinguish Middlekerke and the 
 Ostend railway station. 
 
 The first anti-aircraft shot! A long-drawn-out 
 hiss and a violent explosion in unpleasant proximity 
 a pretty enough exhibition to watch from the 
 safety of terra firma, but deucedly uncomfortable 
 when one is playing the leading part in the little 
 drama. It is the first shot that is always the most 
 unpleasant and the most terrifying. 
 
 For the next few moments there continues a 
 fairly strenuous bombardment, which necessitates 
 rapid climbing and diving to continually alter the 
 range. Then the firing ceases for a short while, 
 and all is normal again. 
 
 From behind a small wood there comes floating 
 gaily up aloft the long and ugly shape of a 
 " sausage " (captive balloon). Now is our chance 
 for a little just retribution. But, apparently the 
 Germans have seen us, for the " sausage " is being 
 brought rapidly down towards the earth again. 
 The temptation is too strong for two of our men, 
 who, despite previous orders to the contrary, try 
 their 'prentice hand with a few bombs, without 
 success. It is easy to see that this is their first 
 time across, for the " sausage " is the most difficult 
 of all targets, and very rarely hit. 
 
 My map now reveals to me that we are over 
 Ostend. More shrapnel flies up, interspersed here 
 and there with high-explosive shell. One can feel 
 
 
THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 a certain contempt for shrapnel in mid-air. The 
 conditions are entirely different when firing across 
 the land, than when firing straight up into the air. 
 In the latter case the resistance is more than treble, 
 with the result that, by the time the shrapnel 
 reaches anything of an altitude, the best of its 
 driving force has been expended, and bullets rattle 
 harmlessly against the wings of the aeroplane. In 
 fact, on one occasion a Royal Flying Corps pilot 
 returned from a reconnaissance trip with 365 
 bullet-holes in various parts of his machine, which 
 was still air-worthy. 
 
 High explosive is another matter. If it bursts 
 reasonably near the machine, there is not the 
 slightest chance of ever reaching the ground again 
 in a whole condition, and even when bursting at a 
 distance it is apt to give the aeroplane a nasty jar 
 and sometimes upsets it entirely. 
 
 One machine has had to drop out and has turned 
 back towards the lines, and now there are only 
 eleven of us. More shrapnel and yet more; much 
 too near on the last occasion. We climb rapidly 
 higher to 10,000 feet. It is a fine, clear day, and 
 everything beneath us is quite distinct. Even so, 
 it is a very difficult matter to manoeuvre the 
 machine and to use one's glasses at the same time. 
 
 One peculiarity in atmospherical conditions on 
 the Continent is that the weather is either too misty 
 for flying, or so remarkably clear that the airman 
 
 
A GREAT RAID 119 
 
 can reconnoitre from much greater heights than in 
 England. For the first two hours after sunrise 
 there is invariably a heavy ground mist. Yet early 
 morning and late afternoon are the more favour- 
 able times for flying purposes. 
 
 Ghistelles looms into view, far away to the south 
 and bathed in a sea of light mist. It is the great 
 German aeronautical centre in Belgium. All the 
 large enemy raids are organised and planned at this 
 centre. The town itself is of no great size, but 
 it has good lines of communication by road and 
 rail, both to the firing line and the distant bases 
 in the immediate neighbourhood of Brussels. 
 There are some forty hangars there, and until quite 
 recently there were two large sheds. Probably no 
 other spot within the German lines is so well and 
 plentifully supplied with anti-aircraft guns as is 
 this place. 
 
 Far away in the distance, and coming " down 
 wind" at a very great pace, is a minute black 
 shape, at present no larger in size than a man's 
 hand. 
 
 An enemy machine! excitement rules high. He 
 cannot have seen us, for no Hun airman would 
 dream of taking on so many of our machines 
 single handed. 
 
 Nearer and yet nearer he draws. Suddenly he 
 sees us. He turns quickly, but is too late. Our 
 battle-plane on the extreme right is after him. 
 
120 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 The enemy skirts the fringe of the dark clou< 
 that hang across the horizon. After him goes our 
 battle-plane. For a short space of time both are 
 hidden in its depths. Then, from the distant end, 
 there descends rapidly a small black object. 
 
 Is it British or enemy? Down she goes; a steep 
 volplane turning into a spiral, and finally into a 
 murderous-looking nose-dive. Thank Heaven, it 
 is the enemy machine. I have seen the black cross 
 on the tail. Back comes our machine triumphant, 
 and we continue on our way to Ostend. 
 
 There are various objectives of an offensive 
 through the air. There is the attack on enemy 
 aircraft. This is hardly a matter for an organised 
 raid; it is rather the errand of a cruising battle- 
 plane. Next there comes the destruction of ma- 
 terial; ammunition columns (usually situated in 
 woods), parks of transport, railways, and all apper- 
 taining to them, and especially bridges and trains, 
 stations and sidings, enemy headquarters, aero- 
 plane and airship sheds, petrol depots, and gas- 
 works. 
 
 Lastly, there is the bombing of troops. This is 
 a comparatively simple matter, the best occasion 
 on which to attack them being when they are 
 crowded in roadways and similar areas. 
 
 Zeebrugge was at last almost within reach. The 
 place is recognisable from the long jetty running 
 in a large curve far out into the sea. Proceeding 
 
 
A GREAT RAID 121 
 
 in a westerly direction are numerous heavy troop- 
 trains, and standing in the sidings several loco- 
 motives with steam up, all of which incidents point 
 to the movement of a large number of troops. In 
 the harbour are four destroyers and three sub- 
 marines. The more the merrier! 
 
 Gradually we draw nearer. It is now possible 
 to see something of the panic in the streets and 
 roadways. Motor-cars are darting out of the city 
 in all directions; the destroyers are hurriedly trying 
 to make for the open sea. The anti-aircraft guns 
 begin to open fire from every quarter. And then 
 we commence to drop our bombs. Down they go, 
 those ministers of death and destruction, to their 
 targets. Huge columns of living flame leap up 
 skywards hundreds of feet into the air. The din 
 of the engine resounds upon the ear-drums until 
 we begin to wonder if we shall ever be able to hear 
 distinctly again. But down below, where the guns 
 still pound away unceasingly, the crash of the 
 bursting shells, the violent explosions of the 
 dropping bombs; all are strangely noiseless. It is 
 a veritable inferno of death and destruction. 
 
 The roof-tops of the city are covered with great 
 rolling clouds of thick black smoke. It is now 
 almost impossible to distinguish any landmark on 
 the ground below. 
 
 Two of our machines have already gone crashing 
 down. The sight of them falling is the greatest 
 
 
122 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 
 shock to the nerves imaginable; it is the true test 
 of bravery, for one always feels tempted to give 
 up and follow them, but only for the passing 
 second. The lust of battle grows strong again; 
 more bombs and yet more are dropped on to the 
 stricken city. The flying of the machines is mar- 
 vellous to behold. 
 
 Another of our craft is hit, making number three; 
 she, too, disappears into the mist beneath. Our 
 bombs are now all exhausted and we turn thank- 
 fully homewards. Another machine drops out, to 
 land safely on the foreshore, and, as we afterwards 
 learn, the pilot is made a prisoner. Then we reach 
 our own lines once more and are safe. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 A DAY-DREAM 
 
 Somewhere in the North of Trance, 
 
 Saturday. 
 
 THE other day I had a dream; at six o'clock in 
 the morning, at 10,000 feet up in the air, with the 
 biting cold wind whistling by my ears. On all 
 sides stretched the air, a boundless infinity; beneath, 
 a moving panorama of wood, river, and hill, of 
 men, guns and battle-field. Far in the distance, 
 the waters of the North Sea glinted blue in the 
 early morning sun; when suddenly the air became 
 filled with a strange purring sound, and from all 
 sides came flying hundreds of aircraft of varying 
 shapes and sizes. Among them I noticed one, a 
 leviathian. A long cigar-shaped, silver-tinted, 
 super-airship; beneath and swinging easily in the 
 breeze, the hull was in the shape of the old- 
 fashioned sea-going steamer. For'ard was a wide 
 expanse of promenade-deck, where could plainly 
 be distinguished the passengers walking to and fro. 
 In the centre, on a raised dais, a band, resplendent 
 in blue and gold, were strumming some popular 
 123 
 
i2 4 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 air. Amidships a great bridge, where the officer 
 the watch and the quartermaster were directing her 
 course. Astern was another wide expanse of deck, 
 but this apparently was reserved for the crew. 
 Now a large group of men were busily engaged 
 round a small, bullet-shaped aeroplane. With a 
 whirr, she started off across the wide deck, and a 
 second later was gracefully clearing the great ship's 
 side, and missing a green and white balloon buoy 
 literally by inches, sank rapidly in a southerly 
 direction; and then our wireless telephone rang. 
 It was the big ship speaking us, " Had we seen 
 anything of the home-bound mail?" " No, we 
 had not." " Could we say what the Siberian 
 weather conditions had been the day previous?" 
 " Well, nothing extraordinary, slight haze over 
 North China." "Strange, the Menelaus left 
 Canton yesterday, should have reported Bombay 
 this morning, Moscow reports her two hours over- 
 due." " No, we have seen nothing of the missing 
 liner;" and, leaving the great pleasure ship miles 
 in the rear, we skim across the Carpathians, 
 speaking two Serbian cruisers on patrol duty 
 along the Northern Frontier. From thence we run 
 into a storm, have to climb to 5000, and by the 
 time the mist and darkness clears away, the North 
 Sea has loomed into view. Now we are more in 
 the beaten track, swarms of small pleasure craft go 
 cruising by; the Paris-London way is chock-a-block 
 
A DAY-DREAM 125 
 
 with traffic : cumbersome great four and eight 
 engined merchant vessels, slim graceful pleasure 
 craft, Government vessels, two giant American 
 liners, and an Australian non-stop mail-boat, some 
 naval craft and small police patrol craft, endeavour- 
 ing to order the converging lines, and two military 
 transports bringing home leave men from Abys- 
 sinia. The Far East fleet, flying majestically and 
 impressively along with the flagship Twentieth 
 Century leading the line, the hind portion taper- 
 ing off gracefully and far into the rear to the 
 smaller aeroplane torpedo craft. The air is full 
 of the crackling of the wireless, every master endea- 
 vouring at the same time to engage a berth in 
 either the London or Norwich aerodromes. Soon 
 the fleet makes a sharp turn to the left, the less 
 important and smaller craft scurrying hurriedly 
 away to give her passage. The Home Fleet looms 
 into view, silent and majestic; in the dim distance 
 the two units sight each other, and after paying the 
 usual compliments, pass on their respective ways. 
 Nearer the English coast the air swarms with plea- 
 sure vessels, elegant and tiny airships float lazily 
 in the air, their occupants lolling idly in the sun. 
 Over Dover can be seen the ugly form of the new 
 floating dock, said to be large enough to accom- 
 modate even an air dreadnought. 
 
 Strung across the North Sea; about 2000 feet up, 
 and well below the level of the trade routes, are 
 
 
126 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 the small grey ships of the Aerial Sporting League. 
 We speak one of them. There is to be an inter- 
 national race this morning between London and 
 Petrograd. Amused, we watch the long grey line 
 at the starting-post, among the green fields of 
 Kent, presently they are beneath us in a long 
 extended line, two machines of our own red, white 
 and blue, well to the fore. We give our number 
 and business to the Patrol airship at the Nore, and 
 come down slowly to pick up our landing stage, 
 somewhere east of Greenwich, when suddenly the 
 waters of the Thames below are cleft in twain, as 
 if by an earthquake, and from the disturbance there 
 rises a squat, peculiarly shaped craft, that com- 
 mences to glide along the smooth surface of the 
 water towards Purfleet, where she climbs gently 
 out on to the far bank, into a wide grey slipway, 
 some quarter of a mile in width. Still crawling 
 along on her belly, she reaches the Government 
 repair works where, taking fresh supplies aboard, 
 she suddenly sprouts two wings and commences 
 climbing up into the air. Again there is an un- 
 pleasant purring noise, and a yet more unpleasant 
 concussion. . . . 
 
 " Shrapnel," my observer bawls into my ear, 
 " better go higher," and we do. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 A MID-AIR BATTLE 
 
 Somewhere in France, 
 
 Friday. 
 
 IT was a sleepy old-world town hidden away in 
 the sunny hills of Northern France, with a broad 
 highway leading from the town in either direction 
 and easily distinguishable from the air as being a 
 first-class or main road, by its extraordinary width 
 and the superabundance of traffic passing to and 
 fro. We were still flying low and could easily dis- 
 tinguish the long strings of motor cars, convoys 
 of ambulance wagons, supply and ammunition 
 columns. In one place a battalion of reinforce- 
 ments, marching up towards the firing line with 
 their transport wagons in the rear. Further up 
 and nearer to the firing line were a string of motor 
 'buses, crowded outside with Tommies, their 
 bayonets gleaming silver as they caught the rays 
 of the early sun. In another place a small traction- 
 engine was hauling a chain of limbers, on which 
 were the parts of a " grandmother " (naval 1 5-inch 
 
 127 
 
128 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 gun) being hurried up to take part in that mi 
 derous duel along the lines. 
 
 We are now getting nearer the dreaded area, 
 and for the sake of comfort and safety have to 
 climb higher. The surface of the earth, however, 
 stills remains distinct. The long grey winding 
 lines of trenches stretch away to the north and 
 south as far as the eye can reach. In some places 
 as much as half a mile divides them, in others they 
 are so close together, that from above they appear 
 to " kiss." But our happy soliloquising is broken 
 by the burst of a shrapnel shell in the near vicinity. 
 No more time for thought now. 
 
 A SOFT JOB 
 
 Diving, climbing, banking, anywhere to get 
 from those awful shells, and who can give descrip- 
 tion to the dreadful sensations one undergoes the 
 first time under shrapnel fire in mid-air ? Heaven 
 and earth seem to be rent in twain by those murder- 
 ous little balls of smoke and flame and lead. 
 
 One's past life rises before one's eyes, sometimes 
 most unpleasantly. Shells burst all round, above, 
 below, to the left, to the right. At one moment over 
 
 ' O 
 
 the nose of the machine, the next beneath the tail. 
 Once hit, and the aeroplane and its occupants will 
 plunge down to an agonising death on the ground, 
 many thousands of feet below. 
 
A MID-AIR BATTLE 129 
 
 " And this," once remarked a cynic of one of the 
 flying Services, " is what the men in the trenches 
 call a soft job." 
 
 By the time we have the opportunity of looking 
 over the side again, we are well into the enemy's 
 country. In appearance this is an almost abso- 
 lute replica of the area behind our own lines. 
 There are the reserve trenches; there the big- 
 gun emplacement and the advance hospitals, 
 battalion, brigade and divisional headquarters, 
 and far, very far, in the background, the German 
 G. H. Q. 
 
 
 AN ENEMY MACHINE 
 
 We keep a wary eye open for movements of 
 troops or supplies, but there is nothing doing. 
 The enemy, like ourselves, is browsing on this 
 beautiful September morning. Again we are 
 troubled with the bursting " Archies," and again 
 we climb higher, this time above the clouds, that 
 stretch all round and beneath us in a billowy snow- 
 white sea. Slowly we creep round a big white 
 fellow towards the sun, when out from a distant 
 corner, like a spider from his web, there darts an 
 enemy machine. Has he seen us ? For a moment 
 he keeps on his way, then suddenly round goes his 
 nose, and he comes towards us " down-wind " at 
 a great pace. As he draws near we discover that 
 
1 30 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 he is double-engined and mounts two machine- 
 guns. He has the advantage both in the matter 
 of guns and speed, which counts for a great deal 
 in an aerial combat. With a faster turn of speed 
 and the wind at his back, a good pilot should be 
 able to overcome an enemy machine, however large 
 and however heavily armed. 
 
 While still about five hundred yards away, he 
 opens fire, but without effect, his bullets fly wide 
 on either side of us. We reserve our fire. Now 
 he is almost on top of us, and in the upper berth, 
 thus having a great advantage. He is over us; 
 the great shadow of his machine comes between 
 the sun and ourselves. All the time his observer 
 is firing wildly, some of his shots have punctured 
 the wings, but thank God, none came near the 
 body. The danger is over. It has been a narrow 
 escape. 
 
 CARRY ON 
 
 We climb as fast as possible, then turn to find 
 him coming to meet us, almost on end. Another 
 machine-gun duel between the observers. We 
 have got him this time; he is hit, he drops sud- 
 denly. A few more shots from our gun and it 
 will be all over with him. But our gun has 
 jammed, hastily the observer tries to remedy it. 
 It is too late. We have missed our opportunity. 
 
A MID-AIR BATTLE 131 
 
 Nothing else for it but to put a new tray of 
 ammunition in the gun and have another go at 
 him. How difficult this is in mid-air! In the 
 safety of terra firma it is the easiest thing in 
 the world to take the gun to pieces, or to change 
 the ammunition tray, but here, in the confined 
 space of an aeroplane up in mid-air it is an entirely 
 different matter. We are only just ready when 
 he turns to meet us. Another duel he has 
 passed by. 
 
 Again we both wheel to the combat. This time 
 he is on top of us. We give up hope, and prepare 
 for the worst. On the top of us again; his shooting 
 is bad, but he has got the observer in the arm. 
 Turn round to escape no combat possible with 
 the man at the gun hors de combat; but the 
 observer, plucky fellow ! does not know the mean- 
 ing of defeat. He signals to his pilot to carry on. 
 We turn again. The enemy is confident that he 
 has winged us. Too confident! We wait till he 
 is almost level with us before we fire. Then zipp, 
 zipp, zipp, he is hit. He plunges downward. We 
 get on top of him. Another round of lead into his 
 back. It is all over, he plunges headlong to earth; 
 and with a feeling of regret for our gallant foe, 
 who fought so well, we turn homewards to earth, 
 peace, and safety. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 A BATTLE FROM ABOVE 
 
 Somewhere in the North of France, 
 
 Thursday. 
 
 DAWN not as we imagine it; but a dawn with 
 God's clear Heaven filled with every winged mes- 
 senger of death. The very earth is shaken with 
 agony, and the face of the sun is blotted out by 
 heavy, choking clouds of picric smoke that hangs 
 and hovers over the earth like a pall. |j 
 
 Far in the background rises a battle aeroplane. 
 Nearer and nearer to the line it creeps, and without 
 any attention from the enemy's anti-aircraft guns. 
 The German artillery is too much engaged in work 
 of a more serious nature the work of hurling 
 back the irresistible lines of British infantry. 
 
 The frail craft passes over the lines, and meeting 
 with no opposition sinks lower in long, sweeping 
 circles, and finally appears to hover, as nearly as 
 an aeroplane can hover, some two miles to the east 
 and well over the enemy's country. Then it is 
 bombarded on all sides with " Archibalds," now 
 above, now below, now immediately in front, now 
 
 132 
 
A BATTLE FROM ABOVE 133 
 
 immediately behind, but the machine continues 
 to manoeuvre as if entirely oblivious of shell fire. 
 Other swiftly moving shapes have now crept out 
 from the direction of the British base, and all are 
 hovering over different portions of the long line 
 of muddy trenches, while the battle rages in all its 
 fury. 
 
 All the varied operations of the extensive battle- 
 field are as an open book to the watch in that frail 
 craft .... the battle swaying backward and for- 
 ward from trench to trench, the hand-to-hand com- 
 bat in the open, the ding-dong artillery duel, and 
 the hurried rush of supports and reinforcements. 
 Nothing can be hidden from this peering eye 
 above, that transmits the news by wireless to the 
 great guns far in the rear, and to the headquarters, 
 where the commander traces every movement of 
 the battle on his map, like a chess-player plan- 
 ning his moves and counter-moves on a chess- 
 board. 
 
 The enemy's country is more heavily wooded 
 and more broken than our own. Dotted here and 
 there are small straggling villages. To the north, 
 on either side of the road, are two small villages, 
 now a mass of ruins. Between them is the tall 
 chimney of a sugar factory, from which the black 
 smoke no longer rises; and behind it, nearer the 
 firing line, the long, ragged arms of a windmill 
 move furtively in the slight breeze. To the south, 
 
 
134 
 
 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 and immediately in the rear of another small vil 
 lage, there is a large and straggling cemetery. 
 
 Woods, farms, a broken and distorted railway 
 line, another factory, and a narrow winding stream, 
 and the picture is complete. No! Not quite 
 complete. Standing far removed from the main 
 road is a large and densely wooded forest. The 
 observer watches anxiously the stretch of British 
 trenches immediately facing the wood. Then the 
 barren, shell-swept land between the opposing 
 trenches springs into life. Men and more men 
 come swarming across the trenches and make for 
 the German lines. 
 
 The observer watches anxiously the stretch of 
 British trenches immediately facing the wood. 
 There is a strange, unaccountable feeling in the 
 air that, were it not for the never-ceasing roar of 
 the aeroplane engine, would be hushed and silent 
 as the moment prior to the start of a horse-race, 
 when an element of overstrung expectancy per- 
 vades the human brain. Down below there, the 
 lilliputian figures crouch like ants behind the mud- 
 bank, waiting for the dread signal when the race 
 shall commence, the race of human life and death. 
 The booming of the great guns in the rear has 
 long since ceased, and the nebulous region of No- 
 man's-land, were it not for the battle-scarred earth, 
 would resemble an ordinary peaceful country-side, 
 so quiet and deserted has it become. The minutes 
 
A BATTLE FROM ABOVE 135 
 
 tick slowly on and on. Now it must be getting 
 very near the appointed hour. Will it never come ? 
 Restless movements are evidenced in the opposing 
 trenches, where an occasional bayonet glitters in 
 the sun, or strange figures wander to and fro. At 
 last! With a shout and roar, they are over the 
 top. The earth trembles. Then the barren shell- 
 swept land between the opposing trenches springs 
 into life. Men and more men come swarming 
 across and make for the German lines. The scene 
 now baffles all description, it is like a fleeting 
 glimpse of Dante's Inferno, as if all the hate and 
 murder and courage and strength of human exist- 
 ence had met in one protracted struggle of life and 
 death between savagery and civilisation. The two 
 opposing masses intermingle, so that now it is no 
 longer possible to distinguish each from each. 
 
 At last there comes a lull in the battle, and 
 the aeroplane pilot, his hazardous expedition con- 
 cluded and at a sign from the observer, thankfully 
 turns for home, leaving behind him a scorched and 
 scarred earth from which the smoke rises continu- 
 ously in curling white-grey clouds. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 A TRUE STORY OF THE WAR 
 (BEING PART OF THE DIARY OF AN INHABITANT) 
 
 Somewhere in Belgium, 
 
 Sunday. 
 
 SUNDAY again, but hardly to be imagined in 
 these troublous times and places, with adventure 
 for one's bedfellow, war for one's profession, and 
 bloodshed and horrors for one's constant reflection. 
 Despite all this there exists, and must always exist 
 in every war that peculiar intermingling, that 
 strange blend of horror and sentiment, hate and 
 romance, that mixture of dross and gold. The 
 feelings and actions that bring out all that is the 
 most savage, the most primitive in man's nature, 
 at the same time endowing him with the tenderness 
 and unselfishness of a woman, the courage of a 
 hero, and the fortitude and forbearance of a saint. 
 Romance! I have a most charming instance to 
 give to you my dear M . 
 
 We met him first in December, 1914, in the little 
 old-world town of S . In fact I had the good 
 
 136 
 
A TRUE STORY OF THE WAR 137 
 
 fortune to be billeted upon him. The better class, 
 or rather all those inhabitants who could afford it, 
 had fled from the town at the first advance of the 
 Hun hordes. But he had elected to risk his neck, 
 and stay to comfort, and if possible to protect, the 
 women and children. He was a queer old char- 
 acter was Pere Dreyfus; he had lived in the little 
 town now thirty years, since he came there first as 
 a stripling curate. His curling brown hair had 
 turned to an austere grey, his cheeks were hollow 
 and shrunken, and his old back was bent almost 
 double with shouldering other people's burdens. 
 By the general population he was almost idolised, 
 men, women and even small children brought their 
 troubles to Pere Dreyfus, and they never went 
 away without receiving the closest attention, and 
 the warmest sympathy. As they loved and idolised 
 him, so he reciprocated their feelings, and never 
 tired of talking of them, in the long dark evenings, 
 when we had the pleasure of sharing his company 
 over a glass of old port, with Monsieur le Maire. 
 He would relate vividly and with force, how in 
 the great advance, the Uhlan patrols had ridden 
 into the town, camped there for thirty-six hours, 
 then returned the way they had come without, 
 strange to say, molesting any of the population. 
 But there was one thing that Pere Dreyfus did not 
 believe in, and that was the air. 
 
138 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 " Bah," he was wont to say, with a contemptuous 
 snap of his bony fingers; " mere playthings, toys, 
 those air-machines, toys that will be shot down 
 before they have been in the air for half-an-hour 
 on end." He had incidentally never seen an aero- 
 plane in flight, and little did he guess how those 
 mere playthings were to affect his own life. 
 
 The cold, dreary winter had blossomed forth 
 into glorious spring-tide, when again I came to 
 
 S . The old town had not changed much; if 
 
 anything it was sleepier and drearier than ever. 
 My first visit was to the little corner house by the 
 great stone church; but the little corner house was 
 no more, in its place was a pile of shattered 
 masonry. With vague misgivings I sought M. le 
 Maire, and found him in his stuffy, dingy little 
 office in the Hotel de Ville. He was poring over 
 some musty documents as I entered, but imme- 
 diately left them to shake me effusively by the 
 hand. " But where is Pere Dreyfus ? " I demanded 
 of him. Where ? He gave that impressive shrug 
 of the shoulders peculiar to the Latin, and rolled 
 his eyes meaningly towards the heavens. 
 . " Dead? " I exclaimed. " How did he die? " 
 
 " Ze airplanes," he replied; " how you call them ? 
 Ze flying machines come one night, and drop a 
 bomb. When I go search in ze morning, ze 
 worthy Father is no more." 
 
A TRUE STORY OF THE WAR 139 
 
 Thus briefly, in as many words he recounted 
 another tragedy of this awful war. Fortune is, 
 indeed, a fickle jade. It had been her will that 
 .... But there, the story is best told in the 
 worthy Father's own words. I quote extracts 
 from a little diary that it was his habit to keep, 
 and which was all that now remained to enable 
 us to glean a true glimpse of the old Father's 
 personal feelings in the matter. 
 
 Monday. The incessant thunder of heavy artil- 
 lery the whole night long. Thus it has been for 
 the past fourteen months, night after night without 
 a break. I notice it no longer; it has become part 
 and parcel of my everyday existence. Up at - 
 yesterday those devils shot Meurice. For what 
 reason I have not yet heard. I wonder what has 
 become of his wife and two children? God help 
 them if they are in their hands! Yesterday as I 
 walked from - - I noticed high up in the sky 
 three black specks coming over in a north-easterly 
 direction. Our soldiers said they were German 
 aeroplanes, but they passed away again without 
 attempting to drop any bombs. It is not these 
 things that we fear, but those fiendish ly-inch 
 shells, which come over sometimes in the middle 
 of the night and tear away a street of houses, 
 killing, wounding, maiming. Unhappy Belgium. 
 
1 40 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 
 Wednesday. No change! M. le Maire asked 
 me if I would billet two British soldiers to-day. 
 I found them pleasant fellows enough; young 
 lieutenants of an infantry regiment. Such youths, 
 one of them cannot be more than eighteen years 
 of age : a handsome boy, with the deep blue eyes 
 and fair curling hair, typical of his race. They 
 appear to regard the war more in the light of a big 
 picnic. But they have not yet been up to the 
 firing lines, nor seen the terrors of battle. Again 
 to-day two enemy air machines came over. They 
 hit Laroche's wine store and killed him and his 
 wife and children. Nevertheless, I cannot help 
 thinking that they are but of minor importance 
 when compared with those diabolical shells. 
 
 Thursday. The two soldiers left again this 
 afternoon, smiling and joking as they came. All 
 the afternoon and far into the night the infantry 
 have been marching past, along the road, thousands 
 of them, regiment after regiment, with their bands 
 playing gaily at their head. The men all happy 
 and contented, marching as if they were going on 
 parade, instead of up to the firing line, many of 
 them never to return. They have brave hearts 
 these English ! Many wagons of ammunition have 
 been placed in the wood behind this house. They 
 call it an ammunition park. Why, I know not. 
 
 Friday. All to-day it rained and thundered. 
 
A TRUE STORY OF THE WAR 14 1 
 
 Thundered as if God in His Heaven were venting 
 His wrath on the warring world below. For one 
 long day there has been no booming of those awful 
 guns. The road has become bare and deserted. 
 In the evening came men into my house from the 
 ammunition wagons in the wood. They told me 
 that they had caught a spy. I am not surprised; 
 this district swarms with them. But what other- 
 wise can be expected if, previous to the war, the 
 entire business relations of the neighbourhood were 
 conducted with the Germans? Every purchasable 
 article from a motor-car to a needle was supplied 
 from Berlin. This man was discovered in a 
 deserted part of the wood, sending messages on a 
 telegraph key. A sapper of the engineers saw the 
 wire laid across the ground, and curious to know 
 whither it led followed it along until he discovered 
 this man. He will trouble us no more. But the 
 unhappy result of it is, they say he signalled the 
 position to the enemy, who will undoubtedly bom- 
 bard us when the weather becomes fine again. 
 
 Saturday A fine clear morning. I hoped that 
 the words of the sapper would prove themselves 
 to be incorrect, and so they were to a certain degree. 
 Anxiously I awaited the bombardment, and it must 
 be confessed with a great misgiving in my heart. 
 Ten o'clock! Eleven o'clock! Twelve o'clock! 
 And still they did not open fire. But just before 
 
i 4 2 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 one a German Taube flew over. Unlike the air 
 machine in the previous visits it did not fly away 
 immediately, but came gradually lower in long 
 sweeping circles, until with my glasses I was able 
 to distinguish the two black crosses on the wings. 
 Then the pom-poms began to bark and screech, 
 and the heavens all round were marked with small 
 white clouds of smoke no bigger than a man's 
 hand in size, and fascinating to watch. He was a 
 cool fellow, the pilot of that air machine : undis- 
 mayed by the bursting shrapnel he continued to 
 circle round overhead, as if taking the exact bear- 
 ings of the ammunition camp. 
 
 Monday. I was roused from my bed by a series 
 of violent explosions. It is that infernal bombard- 
 ment come at last, I thought to myself. But no ! 
 The air above was filled with a loud hum as of a 
 hundred motors. I looked above me to find the 
 face of the sky darkened with aircraft, all of them 
 with the black cross on either wing; from all sides 
 they appeared to be circling in. And every moment 
 there would be the unpleasant rush of the falling 
 bomb. A shattering explosion. A burst of flame ! 
 And the yell or cry of the dead and dying, the 
 heartbreaking neigh of a wounded horse, the crash 
 of falling timber. The series of smaller explosions 
 as the ammunition and cartridges went off. For 
 ten awful moments this continued, bomb followed 
 
A TRUE STORY OF THE WAR 143 
 
 bomb, explosion followed explosion, shrieks, cries, 
 groans. It was a living hell. My God, these air- 
 craft are more to be feared than those infernal guns. 
 I I 
 
 Here the old Father's narrative ends, and across 
 the page were two dull brown splashes, that tell 
 their story but too plainly. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 HEROISM IN THE AIR 
 
 . SOMEBODY censored was engaged in a long recon- 
 naissance trip into the enemy's country, and had 
 already turned home when a shrapnel shell burst 
 immediately beneath his aeroplane, smashed part 
 of the body of the machine, and shattered the pilots 
 leg. Rendered unconscious, he lost control, the 
 aeroplane began to nose-dive to the earth, and fell 
 5000 feet. From this point the observer takes up 
 the story : 
 
 " I had given up all hope, the earth seemed rush- 
 ing up to meet us, and I prayed that our agony 
 might not be prolonged. I shut my eyes and 
 waited for the final crash, when, wonder of wonders, 
 the machine began to right herself. Hardly daring 
 to believe my eyes, I looked to the pilot's seat. 
 The headlong rush through the cool air must have 
 brought him round, and he was making strenuous 
 efforts to regain control. 
 
 " Luckily the enemy had given us up for lost, 
 had ceased to shoot, and we immediately began to 
 
 144 
 
HEROISM IN THE AIR 145 
 
 climb again. Then the Germans opened fire, and 
 we only escaped with our lives through the superb 
 pilotage of L , with one leg shattered and blood 
 flowing in streams. At 8000 feet he again seemed 
 to be sinking. I hastily scrawled a note urging 
 him to descend. He read it, shook his head 
 decidedly, pointed to me with a smile in his white 
 drawn face, then pointed in the direction of our 
 lines, and carried on. 
 
 " At times he would faint, and then, recovering 
 himself, redouble his efforts. At last we were over 
 the lines, but it seemed utterly impossible that he 
 should be able to land the machine in his condition. 
 But he did. Choosing a large green meadow about 
 three miles behind the trenches, he landed as gently 
 and as easily as if he had only been up for a practice 
 flight, brought the machine to a stop, and fainted 
 dead away." 
 
 This gallant pilot, as he lay mortally wounded in 
 the field hospital, and knowing that he was dying, 
 thought only of the terrible time his observer must 
 have had. Thus he wrote to his mother in 
 England : 
 
 : 
 
 " MUMMY DEAR, 
 
 " Don't be alarmed at my little escapade; 
 will be all right again soon and be with you .... 
 Poor P , what an awful time he must have 
 
146 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 had after I fainted and we were nose-diving head- 
 long for the ground ! 
 
 " P. S. Please don't go talking about this busi- 
 ness to all the old dowagers of your acquaintance." 
 
 Officer R M was on a bomb-dropping 
 
 and reconnaissance expedition in the neighbour- 
 hood of Y in the late summer of 1915. When 
 
 twenty miles from our lines he was hit by shrapnel 
 and mortally wounded in the thigh, but making up 
 his mind not to be taken prisoner, he kept bravely 
 on, crossed the lines, and disdaining to take ad- 
 vantage of the cover thus afforded and land in the 
 first available spot, kept resolutely on to the aero- 
 drome from which he had set out, though losing 
 blood rapidly and knowing he had not long to live. 
 There he made a beautiful landing, handed in his 
 report, and fell unconscious, never to come round 
 again. ) 
 
 Early in the present year an air raid was organised 
 to bomb a town not far from Constantinople. The 
 raid was duly carried out, but on the journey home 
 one of our aeroplanes was hit by a shell and forced 
 to come to earth in marsh lands beside a small river. 
 Immediately a party of Turkish infantry rushed up 
 to take charge of the craft, but before they could 
 reach it another of our machines swooped down on 
 the scene and landed close by. The pilot jumped 
 
HEROISM IN THE AIR 
 
 out, ran across a field swept by Turkish rifle fire, 
 picked up the wounded pilot, and placing him on 
 his back, staggered across to his own machine. 
 Still subjected to a violent fusillade, he unthrottled 
 his engine, and with the wounded man carried 
 before him, bravely flew off and made his own 
 base again. 
 
PART III 
 OTHER CRAFT AND THE FUTURE 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 THE EVOLUTION OF THE AIRSHIP 
 
 THE airship is the aristocrat of the air. In jea 
 lousy and scorn the aeroplane may refer to her as 
 "gasbag," " sausage"; may poke fun at her by 
 reason of her unwieldy size, and laugh at her lack 
 of speed; she still looks down on that craft with 
 as much haughty disdain as a duchess of royal blood 
 would bestow on a nouveau riche. Has she not 
 a pedigree as long as may be forgotten ? 
 
 She may trace her genealogy back to the Greek 
 mythology and may number among her progeni- 
 tors such men as Leonardo da Vinci, Cyrano de 
 Bergerac, Francisco de Lana, Joseph Montgclfier, 
 Blanchard, Santos Dumont and Count Zeppelin. 
 The aeroplane is but an invention of the Twentieth 
 Century ! 
 
 Italy was the birthplace of the lighter-than-air 
 craft; throughout the interesting history of the air- 
 ship the names of famous Italian scientists pre- 
 dominate, and particularly those of the monastic 
 order. Perhaps it was that convent life was 
 inducive to study; untrammelled by the cares of 
 
 '5* 
 
 
152 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 the outside world, men turned their attention 
 the sciences and developed their imaginations. 
 Be that as it may, we find that to-day the Italian 
 airships are the finest in the world. 
 
 But although Italy may have done more than the 
 other nations, history tells us that it was two 
 Frenchmen, Stephen and Joseph Montgolfier, who 
 were the first to bring the lighter-than-air craft 
 prominently before the world. 
 
 The story goes that while rowing, Stephen's silk 
 coat fell overboard into the water. It was placed 
 over a hot oven to dry, and watching it, Joseph 
 noticed that the hot air tended to make it rise. 
 The upshot of the affair was the Montgolfier 
 balloon. 
 
 Throughout history the lighter-than-air craft has 
 figured prominently in warfare. In the Franco- 
 Prussian War, during the siege of Paris alone, 
 as many as 66 balloons left the stricken city, carry- 
 ing 60 pilots, 1 02 passengers, 409 carrier pigeons, 
 9 tons of letters and telegrams, and 6 dogs. 
 
 Gaston Tissandier went over the German lines 
 and dropped 10,000 copies of a proclamation 
 addressed to the soldiers, asking for peace, yet 
 declaring that France would fight to the bitter 
 end. 
 
 In the American Civil War an aeronaut named 
 La Fontaine went up in a balloon over an enemy 
 camp, made his observation, rose higher into the 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF THE AIRSHIP 1 53 
 
 air, and succeeded in getting into a cross-current, 
 which carried him back to his place of departure. 
 The first cross-channel flight was made by 
 balloon in 1785, by Blanchard, who had with him 
 an American doctor named Jefferies, together with 
 a large supply of provisions, ballast and oars. This 
 weighed the balloon down to such an extent that 
 she almost sank into the sea a few moments after 
 starting. Ballast was thrown overboard, and she 
 rose, only to sink again. More ballast was 
 dropped. Then they rose into the air and eventu- 
 ally landed in safety on the hills behind Calais. 
 
 Having thus shortly outlined the development 
 of the one, we will endeavour to discover the 
 fundamental difference between aeroplane and air- 
 ship. It is simply the matter of "lift" obtained 
 in the case of the latter from the property of being 
 lighter than air, whereas the other craft being 
 heavier than air must obtain its " lift" by mechan- 
 ical propulsion. 
 
 The airship is merely an improvement on the old- 
 fashioned balloon : a balloon to which mechanical 
 propulsion has been applied. Different in shape, 
 indeed, and fitted out with many modern improve- 
 ments, its flight is still governed bv the same laws 
 of " aerostatics." 
 
 For practical purposes we will divide the airship 
 into two portions : the envelope or balloon, and the 
 
 
154 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 car. Atmospheric conditions influence the enve- 
 lope to no small degree. The effect of heat upon 
 gas with which the envelope is filled is to make 
 it expand, and consequently cause the craft to rise. 
 Cold, on the other hand, causes the gas to contract, 
 and the craft to descend. Air pressure is another 
 factor which must be taken into account, and this 
 is greatest at sea-level. The greater the altitude, 
 the less the pressure becomes, and the less pressure 
 on the outside surface of the envelope the easier it 
 is for the gas to expand; but this is compensated 
 for by the fact that the atmosphere is considerably 
 cooler at a high altitude. 
 
 There are three types of airship : the " non- 
 rigid," in which the two portions, the car and the 
 envelope, are entirely separate portions, being held 
 together by means of rigging; " semi-rigid," in 
 which the car is partly attached to the envelope, a 
 type greatly favoured by French and Italians; and 
 the " rigid " airship, of which both car and envelope 
 are in the same framework. The Zeppelin is of 
 the latter class. 
 
 Like other great airships the Zeppelin does not 
 rely on one single balloon for "lift." Instead, 
 the envelope forms merely the outer covering for 
 eighteen balloonettes, which can be regulated in 
 the matter of expansion and contraction from the 
 control-car of one of the three gondolas below. 
 
 We have by no means yet seen these wonderful 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF THE AIRSHIP 155 
 
 craft at their deadliest; the German pilots are 
 extremely brave men, yet lack that initiative and 
 dash peculiar to the British Air Service. Were 
 the position reversed, one dreads to think what 
 might happen to this country. 
 
 The future is all with the airship, in the role of 
 commerce-bearing aircraft. The aeroplane and all 
 heavier-than-air craft are of little value save as 
 units of war, and even then their uses are infini- 
 tesimal when compared with those of the Zeppelin. 
 And the secret of the success of the Zeppelin is that 
 she has the "lift," double and treble the lift of 
 the aeroplane, and is developing beyond belief, 
 whereas, in proportion, the aeroplane develops 
 little year by year. 
 
 Taking everything into consideration we must 
 have Zeppelins! It is imperative for the future 
 safety of our nation. The longer we submit thus 
 meekly to these aerial invasions, the longer will 
 the war go on. The German people in the past 
 have been intoxicated with Zeppelins. Weak, 
 hungry and dispirited, their flagging spirits have 
 again and again been whipped up into martial 
 ardour by the fantastic and bragging reports issued 
 by the General Staff in Berlin. One Zeppelin raid 
 was of more value to the moral of the German 
 nation than two great victories on the land. The 
 giant craft to them is more than a mere engine 
 of warfare and destruction, it is a fetish, almost a 
 
 
156 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 religion; thus after every raid the bells are rung. 
 The streets are beflagged and decorated, and the 
 inhabitants become mad with joy. And we must 
 not consider the moral effects alone. From a 
 military point of view, at the time of writing the 
 enemy air-raids necessitate the authorities retaining 
 numbers of valuable aircraft and many trained and 
 expert pilots, not to mention anti-aircraft guns and 
 their crews, which would all be of great value on 
 the other side. Further, Germany defeated on 
 land, and deprived of her fleet at sea, but still in 
 possession of her Zeppelins, is a military power, 
 and a very strong military power of the future. 
 We, in Great Britain, have lost for ever the natural 
 advantage we once possessed of being an island. 
 Thanks to the vigilance and strength of our Navy, 
 we have held the narrow seas with a firm hold, that 
 so far no other nation has been able to overcome. 
 Now we are always open to invasion from the air; 
 and the sea, which formerly afforded us protection, 
 is a serious disadvantage, in that invading aircraft 
 can creep over those broad lonely spaces, and come 
 down upon us before we are even aware of their 
 proximity. 
 
 How can airships raids be encountered? There 
 are three methods. The first is, by anti-aircraft 
 artillery; secondly, by airship; and lastly, by aero- 
 plane. The first method that of gun-fire is ex- 
 tremely unreliable. This is not the fault of the 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF THE AIRSHIP 157 
 
 men so much,, nor of the guns with which they 
 fire, but rather of the conditions under which they 
 work. Practice with anti-aircraft guns is rare and 
 insufficient; and the best part of the firing takes 
 place at night at a rapidly moving object, many 
 thousands of feet up in the air. Aeroplanes are 
 greatly handicapped by want of " lift " a quality 
 which goes far to render aircraft either useful or 
 useless. To obtain " lift " the latter craft relies 
 solely on the high power of its engine, whereas, 
 with the Zeppelin, " lift " is obtained by two 
 means : one by the envelope, which contains gas 
 several times lighter than air; and the other, as 
 with the aeroplane, by engine power. Thus we 
 have double the lifting power with a dirigible than 
 with an aeroplane, and hence double, and in actual 
 fact treble, the war lift; and treble the amount 
 of bombs, ammunition, and machine-guns can be 
 carried. 
 
 The effect the enemy hopes to gain by his con- 
 stant Zeppelin raids, is partly moral, partly military. 
 To achieve the latter it is necessary that the enemy 
 airman destroy some position or place of military 
 importance, as a powder-factory, an arsenal, a large 
 camp, an important railway junction, a munitions 
 factory, a naval dockyard, an ordnance factory, or 
 a similar area. But in very few instances have the 
 raiding Zeppelins touched either of these places. 
 Thus they have achieved but little military result. 
 
158 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 
 The moral result attempted has been to frighten 
 and harass the inhabitants of this country until 
 Germany had a mental vision they would be 
 grovelling on their knees in the dust, begging the 
 Government to sue for peace. We have already 
 dealt with the moral effect these raids have on their 
 own people. By aid of lying and bombastic reports 
 the enemy do not fail to impress and greatly im- 
 press neutral countries. Some readers will perhaps 
 remember it was after a big Zeppelin raid on this 
 country that Bulgaria joined the Central Powers. 
 The Germans know only too well that we do not 
 possess large airships of our own. Suppose we 
 did; what would be the panic and consternation 
 caused in Berlin by the appearance over that city 
 of a squadron of British bomb-dropping Zeppelins, 
 and how far would it go to shorten the war ? 
 
 During the last few months we have seen the 
 Zeppelin in a more useful and more dangerous 
 aspect, namely in the capacity of Naval Scout. Let 
 us consider what are the main duties of a light- 
 cruiser fleet at sea; they are of a very similar nature 
 to those of the cavalry, namely to form a protective 
 screen to the main body, and to advance as nearly 
 as possible to the enemy to discover the exact 
 dispostion of his forces. In one word their main 
 duty is scouting. In this respect the enemy went 
 one better than ourselves. He built Zeppelins, and 
 succeeded in accomplishing with a single Zeppelin 
 
THE EVOLUTION OF THE AIRSHIP 1 59 
 
 that which in former days had required a fleet of 
 light cruisers. Without necessarily running any 
 risk, the giant airship at a height of 10,000 feet has 
 a view extending on a clear day to as much as 
 thirty miles, and some three-hundred square miles 
 of sea surface. What cruiser look-out can claim 
 a perspective equal to that? At thirty miles, or 
 twenty-five or even twenty, the Zeppelin pilot is 
 well out of range of the enemy shells, and with his 
 wireless instrument, which has another range of 
 thirty miles, can signal to the admiral of the fleet 
 when the enemy is yet sixty miles off. This view 
 explains the fact why the two fleets have so seldom 
 been at grips in the two years of war. The enemy, 
 by means of his aerial scouts, must oft and again 
 have been warned of the proximity of the British 
 Fleet. The official account of the Jutland battle 
 stated that the weather was dull and misty; hence 
 the Zeppelins would have been unable successfully 
 to perform their usual duties. 
 
 The extreme radius of Zeppelin activity is usually 
 considered to be 600 miles out, 600 miles home, 
 and judged from the three principal Zeppelin cen- 
 tres Heligoland, Brussels and Friedrichshaven 
 embraces, with the possible exception of a small 
 and unimportant portion of the west coast of 
 Ireland and north coast of Scotland, every city, 
 military camp, munition factory, dockyard and 
 industrial centre in Great Britain. 
 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 LAWS OF THE AIR 
 
 AT a recent coroner's inquest on the death of a 
 young Service pilot in England, an instructor of 
 the flying school at which he was being trained, 
 stated in the course of his evidence that if the pilots 
 there had been a horrifying collision in mid-air 
 had only been familiar with aerial rules and regula- 
 tions, the accident would never have occurred. 
 
 In this particular instance one machine had been 
 coming down, while another was just leaving the 
 ground. Both of the pilots were aware of the 
 danger they were in, but neither knew the right 
 course to pursue. Result collision and death. 
 Had both of them carried out the Royal Aero 
 Club's regulation : that an aeroplane passing another 
 aeroplane in mid-air must leave at least ten metres 
 space between the extreme wing-tips and always 
 pass to the right of the approaching craft, both of 
 them would have been alive to-day. 
 
 So very few of the public outside the flying world 
 are aware that, as navigation of the sea is ordered 
 by the Navigation Act, so is the navigation of the 
 
 1 60 
 
LAWS OF THE AIR 161 
 
 air by the Aerial Navigation Acts of 1911 and 
 1913, and by the rules and regulations of the Royal 
 Aero Club, which latter organisation previous to 
 the war controlled all matters aeronautical and still 
 controls the granting of pilot's certificates. 
 
 Even in the ballooning days a charter was drawn 
 up at a conference at Brussels, which ordained that 
 every private balloon that is to say, one not in the 
 hands of the naval or military authorities must 
 be registered and have a name and number, which 
 should be printed in large letters on the body of 
 the balloon. The place of residence of the owner 
 must also be stated, and the number and the place 
 of origin be printed in red. Every ascent by a 
 private person must be under the control of a state 
 official. Government balloons, on the other hand 
 are not expected to carry papers, but private 
 balloons must have a copy of the official parti- 
 culars and a list of the passengers. A balloon must 
 be identified in the same way as a ship, and must 
 carry a flag, fastened to the net half-day down the 
 balloon, and this must be recognisable both by 
 its shape and colouring, and be properly mounted 
 in position. A journal must be kept and the 
 man in charge must produce his certificate on 
 demand. 
 
 These latter rules also apply to airships, but not 
 to aeroplanes. These types of aircraft are too 
 umerous to be able to identify singly, but there 
 
 M 
 
1 62 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 are many other rules to which they must subi 
 For instance flying over London and similar 
 crowded areas is prohibited; or, in the words of the 
 R. A. C. : " Flying to the danger of the public is 
 prohibited, particularly unnecessary flights over 
 towns), or thickly populated areas, or over places 
 where crowds are temporarily assembled, or over 
 public enclosures at aerodromes at such a height 
 as to involve danger to the public. Flying is also 
 prohibited over River Regattas, Race meetings, 
 meetings for public games and sports, except flights 
 specifically arranged for in writing with the pro- 
 moters of such Regattas, Meetings, etc." 
 
 If he disregard any of these regulations, the 
 airman is liable to a fine not exceeding 10 and 
 suspension of his flying certificate. 
 
 The first Aerial Navigation Act of 1911 was not 
 in reality a Navigation Act at all, but although that 
 was its title, it was described as " An Act to pro- 
 vide for the protection of the public against dangers 
 arising from the Navigation of Aircraft." The 
 penalties attached thereto were exceedingly heavy 
 and provided that any airman disregarding the Act 
 would be liable after conviction on indictment or 
 on summary conviction to imprisonment for a term 
 not exceeding six months, or to a fine not exceeding 
 ^200, or to both such imprisonment and fine. 
 
 The Act included various prohibited flying areas, 
 mostly in the neighbourhood of arsenals, munition 
 
LAWS OF THE AIR 163 
 
 factories, and naval dockyards, or similar military 
 areas. 
 
 Certain conditions were imposed on aircraft land- 
 ing in this country from abroad, as that the person 
 in charge of the aircraft, before commencing a 
 voyage to the United Kingdom, must apply for a 
 clearance to a duly authorised British Consular 
 Officer. He must make a written application, 
 which states clearly the name and registered number 
 of the craft; the type, the name, nationality, and the 
 place of residence of the owner or person in charge, 
 and of every member of the crew; and the name, 
 profession, nationality and place of residence of 
 every passenger (if any), the nature of the cargo 
 (if any), the approximate time of departure, place 
 of departure, the intended landing-place in the 
 United Kingdom, the proposed destination, and 
 the object of the voyage. 
 
 Having settled the matters of procedure, it was 
 further added that " no person in any aircraft 
 entering the United Kingdom should carry, or 
 allow to be carried, in the aircraft, any goods, the 
 importation of which is prohibited by the laws 
 relating to customs; any goods chargeable upon 
 importation into the United Kingdom with any 
 duty or customs, except such small quantities as 
 have been placed on board at the place of departure, 
 as being necessary for the use during the voyage 
 of the persons conveyed therein, any photographic 
 
 
1 64 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 apparatus, carrier or homing pigeons, explosives or 
 firearms, or any mails." 
 
 On the return journey the aircraft is not per- 
 mitted to leave unless there be at least one British 
 representative, approved by the authorised officer, 
 on board. No photographic or wireless apparatus, 
 etc., shall be carried, and no mails. 
 
 Foreign, naval, or military aircraft must not 
 pass over, nor land within any port of the United 
 Kingdom, nor the territoral waters thereof, except 
 on the express invitation, or with the express 
 permission, previously obtained, of His Majesty's 
 Government. 
 
 None of the foregoing orders applies to naval 
 or military aircraft, belonging to, or employed in 
 the service of His Majesty. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 AERIAL COMBAT 
 
 WITH every combat in mid-air some new theory 
 is set up, some new conclusion arrived at, and as 
 yet nothing can be definite. We may say for 
 practical purposes that the strategical work is con- 
 fined to seaplane and airship-scouting with the 
 fleets at sea. and long-distance aeroplane raids into 
 the enemy's country ; tactical work to reconnais- 
 sance trips over the neighbourhood of the lines 
 and the direction of artillery fire. The battle 
 formation of the aeroplane squadron is now, and 
 will in the future be similar to that of a fleet at 
 sea. Even now the two methods of battle are 
 closely akin. 
 
 There are three distinct phases of aerial combat 
 to be considered aeroplane versus aeroplane, air- 
 ship against airship, and aeroplane against airship. 
 It is a difficult matter to decide which is the 
 more useful as a fighting unit, but thus far one 
 is inclined to say the light, high-powered aero- 
 plane. Zeppelins and airships are for the most 
 part clumsy and unwieldy. Seaplanes, again, are 
 
 165 
 
 
1 66 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 usually heavy and slow to answer to their 
 controls. 
 
 The important factors are the lifting power of 
 the machine and weather conditions. The pro- 
 perty of "lift " is determined on the one hand by 
 mechanical devices, and on the other by the 
 balloon portion of the craft which is lighter than 
 the air. Lift spells speed, endurance, and climb- 
 ing powers, and therefore the machine with the 
 greater lift is the better equipped for fighting 
 purposes. 
 
 WIND AND CLOUD 
 
 
 Next in order of importance is wind. The 
 engine may be giving a speed of sixty miles per 
 hour, and the craft be flying in the teeth of a 
 20 m.p.h. wind, thus its actual speed would be 
 forty, not sixty, miles an hour. Again, two 
 enemy machines, A and B, are approaching one 
 another to give battle. Both have a speed of 
 60 m.p.h., but A is flying c< down " with a fifteen- 
 mile wind at the back of him. Their relative 
 speeds would be : A seventy-five, B forty-five, or 
 an advantage of thirty miles an hour for A ; but 
 on the turn the majority of aerial combats are 
 fought out on the principal of circling and wheel- 
 ing the advantage would be transferred to B. 
 Good pilotage is of extreme importance ; the pilot 
 
AERIAL COMBAT 167 
 
 who is able to get the most out of his machine and 
 knows it best will almost invariably gain the day. 
 
 Clouds are often made great use of by pilots. 
 Almost every day we read of a machine dashing 
 out from behind a bank of cloud, and taking 
 another by surprise. On the other hand, clouds 
 may prove disastrous to both combatants, owing 
 to the peculiar property they possess of influenc- 
 ing the stability of the machine. 
 
 Lift, however, is still the great factor, since 
 the fight always develops into a struggle for the 
 upper berth, and is usually fought in an upward 
 direction. It is climb, climb, climb ; then, 
 with the wind at his back, a last swoop down 
 on the enemy taking him in his most vulnerable 
 position and the fight is over. Various expe- 
 dients are made use of to gain this end, such 
 as getting between an opponent and the sun, 
 "diving" suddenly and "looping." With either 
 aeroplane or airship it is the uppermost position 
 that counts. 
 
 The type of craft most useful for this work is 
 the high-engined biplane of the "tractor" pro- 
 peller to the fore type, the machine-gun firing 
 through the blades of the propeller. The essen- 
 tials of these machines are speed and ability to 
 climb quickly. The slower machines, with greater 
 powers of endurance, are more useful for bomb- 
 raiding and reconnaissance purposes. 
 
i68 
 
 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 "LIFT" THE FACTOR 
 
 Airship combat has yet to materialise. Many 
 opinions and theories, often widely conflicting, 
 have been put forward concerning the possi- 
 bilities and probabilities of such conflicts, but 
 nothing definite can be advanced until a battle 
 between airships has taken place. The opinion of 
 the majority of the experts is that an airship 
 would be little better than useless to meet an 
 airship, and for our own particular requirements 
 that is, the repelling of Zeppelin raids aeroplanes 
 are of more use ; which brings us to the combat 
 between aeroplane and airship. 
 
 Considering first their main qualities : the airship 
 has great " lifting " powers, is more heavily armed, 
 can climb at a faster rate, and has greater powers 
 of endurance ; whereas the aeroplane has greater 
 speed, is more easily manoeuvred, and is less 
 unwieldy. 
 
 The tendency of the Zeppelin commanders is 
 to increase rather than decrease altitude with 
 every raid, which renders attack by aeroplane more 
 difficult ; but, on the other hand, aeroplanes are 
 being built which can develop so remarkable a 
 speed that they will soon be able to climb above 
 Zeppelin altitude. When that occurs the Zep- 
 pelin menace will end for ever. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE AIR THE WAR AND THE FUTURE 
 
 HAD either Orville or Wilbur Wright, when they 
 first glided down the low sand-dunes of the Pacific 
 shore on a frail, uncontrollable air machine, in the 
 earlier part of this century, or Count Zeppelin, as 
 he worked unceasingly on his giant airship, been 
 blessed with the imagination and the gifts of a 
 seer what remarkable vision would have been 
 theirs ! 
 
 To see that frail glider increase and grow into a 
 motor-propelled, double-winged aeroplane, darting 
 through the air with the speed of a cyclone : that 
 unwieldy airship, capable at the most of remaining 
 for half-an-hour in the air at a time, develop into 
 a craft, to which the crossing and re-crossing of the 
 wide expanse of the North Sea was an everyday 
 occurrence : to see the aeroplane climb up to 
 18,000 feet in the sky, to attain a speed of over 
 100 miles per hour, and remain in the air for hours 
 on end. . . . 
 
 The Zeppelin originally intended to be a peaceful 
 carrier of the commerce of the world, converted 
 
 169 
 
 
1 70 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 into a ship of war, with machine-guns mountc 
 fore and aft; and with a cargo on board deadly 
 enough to wreck the half of a city. . . . 
 
 The far-flung battle-line of Flanders, over which 
 there creep, like great grey wasps, French, Belgian, 
 German and British aeroplanes alike; the elon- 
 gated shapes of raiding Zeppelins, darting hither 
 and thither over a darkened London, among pierc- 
 ing searchlight rays and bursting shrapnel! Yet 
 a few years, and the shapes and structures may 
 undergo even more marvellous change; for every 
 talent and accomplishment, every art and science 
 of modern civilisation will be devoted to the 
 development of this new science of aeronautics.. 
 
 THE WAR AND AVIATION 
 
 One may say, without much fear of contradic- 
 tion, that the war has done more towards the 
 development of aviation, and has rendered more 
 things possible to be done in two years than would 
 have been accomplished in ten years under pre- 
 wartime conditions. 
 
 It has necessitated the production of many thou- 
 sands of craft of varying degrees of size and shape, 
 and the number of factories engaged upon the pro- 
 duction of aeroplanes, airships, and spare parts for 
 the respective craft has trebled. For one trained 
 and experienced aviator, in 1914, there are to-day 
 
THE FUTURE 171 
 
 at least ten, if anything more capable, and certainly 
 better experienced. 
 
 As a test of the durability and the capabilities 
 of aircraft, flying under war conditions cannot be 
 equalled, for various reasons. Firstly, manoeuvres, 
 which in times of peace would be considered risky 
 to life and thus avoided, must be endured daily by 
 pilots flying over the battle area. Flying under 
 shell-fire frequently necessitates manoeuvres, en- 
 tirely unaccounted for by the constructors of the 
 machine, which put a very great strain on the 
 framework, wings, struts, etc. To compensate for 
 such strain, every wire, strut, and part of the 
 framework is constructed of a strength at least 
 eight times greater than that of the actual strength 
 required. Thus the weak points of the machine 
 are discovered, also the centres at which the greatest 
 strain takes place. 
 
 FUTURE TYPES OF CRAFT 
 
 The shape and general build of the aeroplane has 
 not thus far changed materially from the original 
 models of Orville and Wilbur Wright, save that 
 the majority of the modern machines are tractors 
 (i. e. with the engine in front), whereas the older 
 types were " pushers " (with engine at the rear). 
 The new principle has naturally both advantage 
 
 
1 72 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 and disadvantage. With the tractor engine, tJ 
 machine has a great speed, and is able to climb at 
 a much faster rate, but the inherent stability of 
 the craft is seriously affected by shifting the 
 engine 80 per cent, of the total weight is moved 
 from the centre to the nose of the aeroplane. To 
 compensate for this the wings have had to be ex- 
 tended, and this has added considerably to the 
 weight in aggregate. But this evil has again been 
 remedied, by bringing the extreme ends further 
 to the rear, and slightly indenting each wing-tip : 
 in a word, constructing the aeroplane more and 
 more after the fashion of a bird in flight. Such 
 is the peculiar working of the human mind, how- 
 ever, that when some new theory or substance 
 is evolved, similar to the one in question, it is 
 content to concentrate on the original formula, and 
 develops that rather than apply the same principles 
 to an entirely new formula. Thus,, after some 
 twelve years of flying, we have only four distinct 
 types of craft : the balloon, the airship, the aero- 
 plane, and the seaplane the two former being very 
 similar both in principle and shape, as also the two 
 latter. Exception cannot be made for the " tri- 
 plane," for that machine, with three planes, has 
 the same shape as the aeroplane. 
 
 The principles of aero-statics, and aero-dynamics 
 by no means confine the constructor to these two 
 standard forms; and in the near future the 
 
THE FUTURE 173 
 
 aeroplane will be built on similar lines to the 
 ocean-going liner, and the airship very much on 
 the same principle. 
 
 Development in size and speed depend on future 
 experimenting, and flights have already been made 
 both in France and Russia by giant aeroplanes, in 
 which,, in one case nine, and in the other fifteen 
 passengers, exclusive of the pilot were carried at 
 one time; while the later Zeppelins are capable 
 of lifting to a height of over 12,000 feet, a crew 
 of thirty odd, with a further weight of bombs and 
 war material aboard, and flying distances of over 
 800 miles. Again, there are the orthropic and the 
 ornithropic types of craft, which their inventors 
 claim to be capable of rising vertically from the 
 ground to a height of 10,000 feet. Combining 
 these principles we ought within the space of ten 
 years to be in possession of aircraft capable of 
 flying at over 150 miles an hour, with a cargo 
 of many hundred tons aboard, and with a radius of 
 over 3000 miles, able to start and land with ease 
 in a confined space about the size of Leicester 
 Square. The aerial landing grounds will be the 
 flat roofs of gigantic buildings specially constructed 
 in the centre of London. Automatic lifts will 
 convey the passengers from the air level to the 
 street level, where they will be deposited in electric 
 trains, running, in all directions. Impracticable, 
 say the critics, but so they said when Count 
 
 
174 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 
 Zeppelin and the Wrights first started their 
 experiments. 
 
 PROPERTIES OF WAR AND PEACE MACHINES 
 
 There is not, and there never was, on this earth 
 a new idea so well deserving of examination as 
 the science of Aeronautics. The history of that 
 science deals with the most momentous invention 
 in the history of civilisation. No other science 
 allures the imagination so far forward into the 
 dim future, when the business of the world will 
 be carried up from the level of the sea and the 
 land to that of mid-air, and when travel will be 
 so rapid and safe that space will almost cease to 
 be an obstacle to man's communications. 
 
 The proudest inventions of the late nineteenth 
 and early twentieth centuries are but of yesterday 
 when compared with those of the aeroplane and air- 
 ship. It is, therefore, of the utmost importance that 
 we should consider how the development of aero- 
 nautics will affect the future of the human race. 
 Under the present war-time conditions, there exists 
 a grave danger that the aeroplane and the airship 
 will be developed too much for war purposes to 
 the detriment of future commercial uses. The 
 qualities mainly required by the war machine, 
 speed, ability to climb quickly, and compactness, 
 differ entirely from those required by the peace 
 
THE FUTURE 175 
 
 time or commerce-bearing aircraft, which have 
 ability to remain in the air for a great space of 
 time, and to fly greater distances. The extra speed 
 required by the war machine may easily be dis- 
 pensed with in the commerce-bearing machines, as 
 also may altitude, for whereas the war machine 
 must fly at a height of over 12,000 feet, a height 
 of between 2000 and 3000 will suffice under ordin- 
 ary conditions, and it will be at this altitude that 
 the best part of the flying will take place after 
 the war. 
 
 FUTURE NAVIES AND ARMIES OF THE WORLD 
 
 How will aviation effect warfare in the future? 
 Will it abolish entirely this undesirable condition 
 of affairs, or will it serve to provide added induce- 
 ments? It is, indeed, a debatable point. If we 
 incline to the latter view, every known argument 
 and theory points to the fact that warfare of the 
 future will be to all intents and purposes instan- 
 taneous. There will be no preparatory delay caused 
 y the necessity of placing large armies in the 
 field, of gradually marching forward to establish 
 contact with the enemy, and of carrying out skir- 
 mishes which may be prolonged to weeks and 
 months before the actual battle takes place. The 
 belligerent fleets will set off in the dawn or in the 
 kness, as the case may be, and before twelve 
 
1 76 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 hours have elapsed, after entering into the con 
 a definite decision will have been reached. For 
 the airman, there is no falling back to a second 
 line of trenches, to a natural position heavily de- 
 fended, or to a concrete fortress or emplacement, 
 or to fight a rearguard action. The fight in the 
 air must be to the death, without quarter asked or 
 given, for no prisoners can be taken. The loss of 
 men and material will be tremendous. 
 
 It is doubtful whether aviation will entirely do 
 away with fighting on land and sea, but it is very 
 obvious that either fleet or army of one belligerent 
 nation, at the mercy of the air fleet of another 
 nation, will be in a very helpless position. Should 
 the warfare in the air be indecisive, were such a 
 condition within the realm of reasonable argument, 
 it might be possible for the fleet or army to be 
 brought into action with advantage, but even this 
 is doubtful. As regards our own nation, before 
 1926, the Royal Naval Air Service will be the 
 largest and most important service in Great Britain. 
 Possibly there will be a single Air Service, and 
 before ten years will have elapsed it will be the 
 most important of all the British services, and will 
 be composed both of aeroplanes and airships. The 
 only other form of aircraft, the seaplane, being too 
 slow,, too clumsy, and too costly, will long ago 
 have been abandoned. 
 
THE FUTURE 177 
 
 PEACE AND WAR USES OF AIRCRAFT 
 
 Before we enter upon the discussion which is 
 the subject of this paragraph we wish to guard 
 ourselves against one misconception. It is pos- 
 sible that readers of this chapter may already have 
 come to the conclusion that it is possible to develop 
 aircraft for one purpose, and one purpose only : 
 that is, either for war or for commerce; and im- 
 possible to develop them for both. This would 
 be an entirely erroneous idea. It is true that we 
 have already laid stress upon the fact that there 
 is a very imminent danger that aircraft may be 
 developed too greatly for war purposes to the 
 detriment of others, but provided that the neces- 
 sary precautions are taken, there is yet ample time 
 for the commerce-carrying machine to be de- 
 veloped at the same time and in the same manner 
 as the war machine. Within a very short time we 
 may find that the Super-Zeppelin of the air will 
 have entirely replaced not only the Dreadnought of 
 the sea, but also the giant passenger liners. Both 
 the war and the peace craft will be considerably 
 larger in size than the 1916 type; the balloon 
 portion of the Zeppelin will have trebled itself in 
 size; it will be, if anything, of greater length and 
 of slimmer formation, while the covering will be 
 composed of some light but durable metal, such as 
 aluminium, to prevent the possibility of explosion 
 
i 7 8 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 of gas caused by the firing of the guns. The 
 narrow gondola beneath will be wider, and will 
 mount several guns of 4'7-inch or larger calibre: 
 for although the Zeppelin of the future will be a 
 much more stable and airworthy craft, by reason of 
 its lateral stability it will never be possible to fire 
 a gun of any size from either bow or stern of an 
 airship or a Zeppelin, without bringing the whole 
 craft canting over,, and possibly breaking its back. 
 Thus, all Super-Zeppelins of the future will be 
 heavily armed amidships, that is to say, where the 
 proportion of strain on the craft is least felt. The 
 passenger-carrying variety will differ very slightly 
 from the war machine, save that the gondola will 
 be deeper, more graceful, and more on the lines 
 of the hull of the present-day ocean-going ship or 
 steamer. The Parseval and similar types of large 
 airship will replace the cruiser and the battle- 
 cruiser; also the large cargo-bearing steamers of 
 to-day. 
 
 With regard to the aeroplane, we are already in 
 possession of super-craft, some of double engine 
 variety, the Sykorsky, the giant Russian machine, 
 and the triplane, or three-planed aeroplane; but it 
 is extremely doubtful whether it is possible for 
 the aeroplane, being a heavier type of aircraft, to 
 develop into a much larger size than it is to-day; 
 the reason for this being the abnormal engine- 
 power that would be required to lift such a craft 
 
THE FUTURE 179 
 
 from the ground, and the fact that the extra weight 
 thus occasioned would render the whole craft un- 
 airworthy. However, the aeroplane will fulfil in 
 the future the uses of the light-cruiser and the 
 torpedo-boat, while a sort of seaplane submarine 
 will fulfil the double purpose of both over and 
 under water work. 
 
 As a commercial vessel the aeroplane will only 
 be of use for the conveyance of passengers and 
 light cargoes on short voyages from Great Britain 
 to Ireland, Great Britain to France, Holland, 
 Norway, or Russia. 
 
 
 THE BALANCE OF POWER 
 
 The new method of warfare will not influence to 
 any material extent the present condition of inter- 
 national politics. Of all the Great Powers, how- 
 ever, Great Britain will be more nearly affected. 
 For many centuries past we have relied upon our 
 natural geographical position, as an island, to pro- 
 tect us from all invasion. And to retain this insular 
 and impregnable position we have relied upon our 
 glorious Navy, which is, and always has been, 
 mistress of the seas. But now we are no longer 
 an island; that is to say, we are no longer protected 
 from the attacks of an enemy merely because we 
 are surrounded by sea, even although we maintain 
 the supremacy of our naval power. Another 
 
i8o THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 element has now to be considered, namely, the air, 
 and that, unfortunately, we do not hold with the 
 same mastery that we did the sea. It will be seen, 
 therefore, that for the safety of the Empire, we 
 must immediately build up a great air fleet, and 
 gain the supremacy of the air. Germany has 
 already shown us the lead in this respect, and we 
 must not be content to follow, but to improve, 
 greatly improve, upon that lead. One thing is 
 certain, that the mad extravagant race for arma- 
 
 * o 
 
 ments among the nations will continue, but with 
 this difference that it will be for great fleets of 
 the air, as to-day it is for large armies and great 
 sea fleets. 
 
 FUTURE INFLUENCES 
 
 Thus far we have dealt solely with the influences 
 of aviation upon warfare and upon commerce; but 
 such influences will by no means be confined to 
 these two phases; there are many other features in 
 international life that the development of aero- 
 nautics will influence greatly. Foremost amongst 
 them is that of travel. For the first few years the 
 cost of travel in the air will be appreciably greater 
 than is now the case. One of the leading aero- 
 nautical experts of the day has computed that, to 
 run a commercial service of aircraft, to cover the 
 heavy expenditure that will be incurred, and to 
 
THE FUTURE 181 
 
 allow for the wear and tear of machines, it will be 
 necessary to make a charge of i^d. per mile, or a 
 50 per cent, increase on the rates for present day 
 travel by steamer and railway. Once the project 
 is in full swing, however, and the initial outlay 
 has been recovered, such charge will be reduced to 
 one halfpenny per mile, or 50 per cent, less than 
 present conditions. 
 
 In the matter of speed and time, there will 
 be a remarkable advantage; for example, some of 
 the proposed air routes are London to New York 
 in 1 8 hours, London to Capetown in 54, and 
 London to Sydney (Australia) in four days. This 
 added economy and speed will tempt the travelling 
 public, and for that matter the non-travelling 
 public further afield, and will serve greatly to help 
 on education and the rapid development of the 
 remotest of our colonies, thus drawing closer the 
 bond of union between the different portions of 
 our great Empire. Countries and tracts of land 
 hitherto undeveloped and unknown will be opened 
 up by the aerial explorer, and whole continents 
 will, with the greatest ease, be policed by aeroplane 
 and by airship. 
 
1 82 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 A FUTURE WAR WITH GERMANY 
 
 Will this war be followed by an aerial war 
 between Germany and Great Britain at a no dis- 
 tant date? This depends solely on the future 
 course and the conclusion of the present war. 
 
 After some fourteen years' experimenting, invent- 
 ing and developing, and the expenditure of several 
 millions of money, Count Zeppelin, or rather the 
 very considerable staff of experts which he has at 
 his disposal, produced the modern Zeppelin : that 
 is to say, the craft that has been in use since the 
 outbreak of the war. What Germany's policy was 
 in constructing these huge craft it is not difficult 
 to discover. Previous to August, 1914, when her 
 navy was inferior to only one other in the world, 
 and that our own, and she was gradually gaining 
 upon us both in the number of ships and personnel, 
 very little was heard of the airship programme : 
 the industry was given State encouragement; but 
 then, to our cost, we know that the enemy has 
 always encouraged any new enterprise that was 
 likely to prove of value from a military point of 
 view. War was declared. Our gallant Fleet, by 
 a series of brilliant engagements, succeeded in 
 driving the enemy shipping from the seas of the 
 world, and in bottling up the Kaiser's grand fleet 
 in the Kiel Canal, where it has ever since remained. 
 
THE FUTURE 183 
 
 What effect did this have on the aircraft, and more 
 particularly the Zeppelin, industry in Germany? 
 Labour was instantly withdrawn from the ship- 
 building yards, and turned over to the construction 
 of Zeppelins. In the early stages of the war the 
 output stood at approximately one a month; this 
 soon crept up to a couple a month, then to three, 
 then to one a week, and now to-day they claim that 
 two Zeppelins per week are being turned out by 
 the factories that have sprung up in nearly every 
 large town in the German Empire. What do all 
 these events portend ? Those who know the Ger- 
 man and his characteristics intimately, tell us that 
 at the back of every German mind, the keenest of 
 all desires is an invasion of England. The reason 
 for this bitter hatred is that the British Empire is 
 on every hand an obstacle to the development of 
 Germany; we were their keenest trade rivals, their 
 most dangerous enemy in the matter of world 
 supremacy, and we were successful in establishing 
 colonies, an ambition dear to every German heart. 
 There can only be two objects in view in the 
 mind of the German Imperial Staff : the one is a 
 gigantic air raid on this country, as a last resource 
 during the present war; the other, a determination 
 on the part of Germany, after the present war is 
 ended and forgotten, to gain a considerable ascend- 
 ancy in the air, and thus once more to take her 
 place as a martial power among the nations. To 
 
 
184 
 
 THE WAY OF THE AIR 
 
 prevent this, it will be necessary for us not only 
 to destroy her armies on the land, and her fleets at 
 sea, but also her fleets of aircraft; for Germany, 
 though beaten by land and sea, and still in posses- 
 sion of her aircraft, will remain for ever a menace 
 to the civilised world. 
 
 THE END 
 
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