VI
I see no reason to depart from the forecast of the future military flying-machine which I make in my Strategy and Tactics of Air Fighting.
Since the fixed-wing machine will probably retain a slightly superior performance over the moving-wing machine (although it is fair to Señor de la Cierva to add that some of the best mathematicians find on theoretical calculation that the moving-wing aircraft should be equal in all-round performance to the fixed-wing type), it is likely that, excepting a proportion of army co-operation machines and a small proportion of night-bombers the moving-wing machine will not in the future be used in large numbers for war purposes.
Before constructing the machine of the future, let us go to the R.A.F. annual Display, and refusing to be fascinated by the intricate shape of the breeches worn by officers and men, let us examine an experimental single-seater fighter of the present. When in the air the machine is remarkable only for the undercarriage-struts and wheels which hang below the fuselage. They look like a labourer’s hands in the drawing-room, they are sturdy but, in the air, they do not seem to know what to do with themselves, they are in unaccustomed surroundings.
Let this machine be compared with the gull. I use the gull for these comparisons because it is common and easily observed and so provides an accessible model. Indeed, it was the gull which instructed Mr A. V. Roe and helped him to become, on June 8th, 1908, the first man to fly over British soil. The experimental single-seater fighter at the R.A.F. Display has very few characteristics of which any bird need be ashamed. One of these characteristics, however, is undoubtedly its undercarriage. The gull folds up its undercarriage when it is in the air; it lets it down only when it is about to land.
But now compare the experimental machine with one of the standard machines in an R.A.F. squadron. The standard service-machine looks as if it has got into the hands of an accessory fiend, one of those who believe that the part is greater than the whole. It is so cluttered up with odds and ends, so cut about, modified, added to, and altered that it resembles no other flying-machine, animal or artificial. It is a sort of winged Air Ministry, a receptacle full of interesting information about everything but the air.
Since this mania for encumbering service-machines is only a superficial failing, it is possible, after remarking it, to go direct to the service-machine of the future.
There is first a new type to be noted, the aerial artillery-machine. This will be a large multi-engined monoplane carrying a single medium-sized gun and a few rounds of ammunition. It will be able to direct close range gunfire from the air at important ground-objectives. The advantage of the aerial big gun over the bomb will be in accuracy, the advantage of the bomb over the aerial big gun will be in the great weight of projectile made possible by the absence of any heavy launching-apparatus like a gun. The height of the aeroplane acts on the bomb as the explosive charge on the projectile. But at long ranges the bomb, with the newest sights and under the best conditions, is inaccurate, and at short ranges its velocity is low. The aerial big gun permits ground-objectives and ships to be attacked at short range with projectiles travelling at a high velocity.
The success of low-flying attacks by machine-guns in the late War was a sufficient demonstration of the potentialities of the low-altitude gun-attack from the air. Experiments were made long ago in mounting small guns in aeroplanes and in arranging for the absorption of the recoil. Against other aircraft the aerial big gun would not be used. In aerial fighting weight of projectile is of less importance than rate of fire.
The night-bombing machine of the future will be an immense flying-boat. It is likely that this type will also be used for day bombing. If so, it will be heavily armed with machine-guns and will not go out without a strong screen and escort of fighting machines.
The fighting aeroplane will be particularly interesting. It will be a small monoplane without external bracing-wires or struts and the undercarriage will be retractable. It will carry one man, and will be an all-metal machine mounting a gas-turbine of some 1,000 h.p.
Performance-figures must be the wildest guess work, because the closest examination of the trend of research gives but small information on the probable rates of progress in speed and climb. Mr A. V. Roe has frequently stated his belief that the future flying-machine will attain 1,000 miles per hour. I will, therefore, give my fighter of this generation 400 miles per hour, 800 miles per hour in the dive, a climb to 20,000 feet in 4 minutes, and a service-ceiling (the height at which the rate of climb falls below 100 feet per minute) of 60,000 feet.
In order that the fighter may operate at high altitudes, and in order that it may be able to change height suddenly by diving or climbing steeply, the pilot will be housed in a pressure-cockpit, from which he will look through a streamline conning-tower made in some transparent material. Unless he were enclosed in some such pressure-chamber or pressure-suit, the pilot would be unable to withstand the cold and the reduced pressure of extreme altitudes, and the sudden changes in temperature and pressure, when the machine was climbing or diving. Pressure-suits are now being experimented with in France and probably elsewhere.
Oxygen would be supplied to the pressure-chamber and an emergency oxygen-apparatus would provide against the chamber being pierced by a bullet. Some form of dessicating apparatus would be essential to prevent the transparent conning-tower from fogging up. The fewest accessories would be carried by these fighters of the future.
In general military aircraft will be more specialized than they are to-day, there will be no many-purpose machines. Instead, the number of specialist machines will steadily increase. In addition to the aerial big guns, there will be flying-tanks or lightly armoured low-flying machines for attacks on ground-targets. These will be developed from the “Salamander”, “Vampire”, and other armoured aircraft introduced during the late War.
Armour for fighting and bombing-aircraft will not be employed for many years. The gunners on the large flying-boat bombers, however, will be provided with small shields.
Perhaps a general idea of the future of the flying-machine in war may best be given by quoting a newspaper report of a day air-attack on London in the next war.
I cut the headlines and start with Our Special Correspondent, who, with the printer’s assistance, has, if I may be permitted to say so, trodden on it through all four gears:
“The greatest air-raid in history was launched on London yesterday evening by a formation estimated at between six and seven hundred aeroplanes.
“For nearly two hours the earth shook to the thunder of the guns, while far up in the blue vault of Heaven there was the flash of wheeling wings, as the heroic pilots of the Royal Air Force plunged again and again to the attack.
“Never before has the heart of the Empire been the objective of so powerful and so determined an offensive, never before have the British air-forces so covered themselves with glory.
“Owing to the vigorous defence which met the raiders as they neared London, casualties are low. Official figures have not yet been issued, but it is thought that fewer than 1,000 people were killed while only some 7,000 were wounded.
“FIRST WARNING.
“The raiders were first reported by the ‘concrete ears’ or wireless disc and super-sensitive microphone sentries which encircle the coast. A large formation (there was much doubt as to the number of machines) was said to be approaching Southampton, and with the exception of three emergency squadrons, every R.A.F. fighting-aeroplane rushed to the attack.
“As our machines, sweeping through the freezing blue of the great altitudes, approached the raiders, the raiders turned and made off at full speed. Our machines bent on reaching the enemy, tore after them.
“It was at this moment that ominous news came through. A second hostile formation, far larger than the first, had been detected approaching the East coast south of Harwich.
“Nearly the whole of the defending airforce was far away: London’s bosom was bared to the attack.
“The new formation—first given as 400 machines but later corrected to 600—was in four great layers and flying at 170 miles per hour.
“The three emergency R.A.F. squadrons, numbering 54 machines of an old type with five or six experimental machines from Martlesham Heath and Farnborough, went up at once and hurled themselves at the vast enemy formation.
“THREE TO ONE ODDS.
“The second layer of the hostile formation, which consisted of about 150 long-distance fighters, engaged them. A furious battle ensued, while the remainder of the hostile fleet, aerial big guns, flying-boat bombers, and, at an extreme altitude, a further batch of long-distance fighters, continued on their way towards London.
“The old R.A.F. machines were literally butchered by the whip-lashes of lead which cracked and curled from the small-calibre stream-fire enemy guns. One of our machines had both its wings cut off and fell to the ground with such force that the airscrew-boss was buried 18 feet in the earth.
“Meanwhile wireless messages had reached the R.A.F. formation, which had been drawn off by the feint attack on Southampton. They had turned and were tearing to the rescue at 350 miles per hour.
“The two big formations were in sight of each other when the enemy was about 20 miles south west of Chelmsford. At this time there was no active opposition to the invaders in the air. Anti-aircraft batteries, however, were blackening the sky with shells, and had succeeded in bringing down two enemy machines.
“There seemed now no hope that London would escape the full force of the attack. Already two ten-ton wireless-controlled flying-bombs had struck the city. Even so there was little panic. The gas-mask distribution had worked well, and no one was unprovided. The usual shelters were made full use of, but many people, against the orders of the police, remained in the streets anxiously looking skywards and listening to the almost continuous tear and roar of the guns.
“ANXIOUS MOMENTS.
“For some reason the news that the first hostile formation had retired had not come through on the wireless. And, since no one knew that far the greater part of the R.A.F. defending forces had gone in pursuit of that formation or that the emergency squadrons had been cut to pieces, a good deal of uneasiness prevailed among the watchers.
“Where are the R.A.F. fighters? was the question uppermost in everyone’s mind.
“As the noise of the guns grew louder and seemed to vibrate and echo among the houses, considerable alarm was displayed. There were one or two ugly scenes, and some women and children were trampled to death in raid shelters at Hoxton and Liverpool Street.
“A quarter of an hour before dusk the two lower layers of the hostile formation were sighted by some people who had been foolish enough to take up positions on the roof of the Daily Post offices in Fleet Street. Only the trained eyes of the anti-aircraft spotters aided by the new visual detection instruments could distinguish the upper layers.
“Still there was no sign of our aeroplanes. The stories of those irresponsible alarmists who, in books and articles, have prophesied as far back as 1927 that London would be wiped out by aerial attack, seemed likely to prove too true. Excitement among the watchers gave way to a certain grimness. Then came a change in the situation.
“‘What’s that?’
“THE BATTLE JOINED.
“Someone was pointing immediately overhead. Nothing could at first be distinguished in the blue sky; then someone else waved excitedly.
“‘Yes, I caught a glimpse.’
“Just then the light of the setting sun glinted momentarily on some infinitesimal speck like a minute silver fish, rushing through the air at a great height. No one dared to express the hopes which they felt.
“A moment later what looked at first like a small red rose sprang into being high up over the enemy, high over the smoke-blackened sky where the anti-aircraft shells were bursting. Then it fell, like a flaming bomb. There was fighting going on up there, out of sight, in the upper air.
“Still the lower hostile layers came on through the roar and shock of the anti-aircraft fire. They were already over the outskirts of London. Something else fell from above twisting horribly. The white of parachutes drifting fantastically could be observed through high-powered glasses.
“Quite suddenly the continuous thunder of the anti-aircraft fire ceased. It was succeeded by an uncanny calm, and then by a high-pitched metallic scream which grew in an ear-piercing crescendo. The R.A.F. aerial destroyers were engaging the lower enemy layers.
“The R.A.F. arrows of the upper air plunged into the very heart of the raiders, streaming fire and lead. They wheeled and turned among them with a swift, purposeful agility.
“RAIN OF BOMBS.
“The hostile formation began to split up, and simultaneously the enemy commander gave by wireless the order to bomb. On the outskirts of London huge factories and houses were suddenly transformed into pillars of white dust. The shriek and thump of the falling bombs was heard clearly in Central London.
“‘It was as if the ground were being torn up under your feet’, said a postman eyewitness. ‘The people in the shelters came out and began to run. They didn’t stop to think; they just ran like wild beasts, trampling on each other, and hitting out at anyone who got in the way, whether man, woman or child.
“‘The rain of bombs was so continuous that for as far as you could see earth and buildings were spouting up in the air with human limbs mixed up in them. The sound of the bombs falling was what knocked people’s nerves up as much as anything.
“‘The gas-bombs didn’t seem so bad, but the incendiary bombs were a nasty sight, at one time it looked as if the whole air had caught fire.’
“According to official information, damage was small. Only the aerial artillery-machines attained an objective of military importance. They completely destroyed the F.E. aircraft factory at Finsbury Park.
“The raiders had timed their attack so as to escape in the dark, and, although the new night detection flood-lights worked well, there is no doubt that the hostile casualties were so few because our fighters were hampered by the darkness.
“According to figures supplied by the Air Department of the War Ministry, 37 hostile machines were brought down while only eighteen of our own aerial destroyers were lost. The three emergency R.A.F. squadrons which first attacked lost 39 machines and had several more severely damaged.
“The raid is regarded by experts as a decisive victory for the British Air-arm and a complete and convincing justification of the policy of the Air-staff. It is pointed out that the raiders were prevented from reaching their objective, and that, apart from the old-type R.A.F. machines, our casualties are smaller than those of the enemy.”
In another part of the same paper was this insignificant paragraph.
“A late Central News message, delayed owing to the disorganization caused by yesterday’s air-raid, states that the hostile formation which made a feint attack on Southampton and was driven off by our machines, later returned to the same place and bombed it continuously for half an hour, causing many casualties and much material damage.”
In the stop-press news was this:
“One a.m. Large hostile formation of aircraft reported approaching mouth of Thames.”
In the above skit I have not dwelt on the terrible side of air-warfare in the future. Yet I feel that that is the side upon which all who are competent to do so, and who wish to prevent future wars should dwell. Several novels have given pictures of future aerial warfare, but I have not seen its inevitable horrors realistically portrayed. Unless those horrors are portrayed frequently and in their true and shocking form, people will soon forget the unpleasant side of air-war and think only of its romantic and glorious side.
In the interests of humanity it would be a good thing if some able novelist or film-producer would give us a statement of the crude horrors of air-war. If such a one arises, he will have the satisfaction of having helped the cause of peace and of having his work banned by the Censor.