Types of Air-Craft Weapons.
Fig. 1.—An aeroplane bomb containing 12 lbs. of tetranitranilin, with a screw stem up which the vanes travel in flight and thus “arm” the fuse. Fig. 2.—Steel dart and boxes of darts used by Taube aeroplanes over Paris, showing how they are inverted and released. Fig. 3.—A French “arrow bullet”; very light, but able to kill a man from a height of 1,800 feet. Fig. 4.—A French aerial torpedo used by aeroplanes against Zeppelins, exploding when it has pierced an air-ship’s envelope and is suddenly arrested by the wooden cross.
Various kinds of bombs are used for dropping from aeroplanes. A simple pattern shown in Fig. 1 consists of a thin spherical shell of steel, containing twelve pounds of tetranitranilin, which is an explosive more powerful than melinite. The stem of the bomb, by which it is handled, has an external screw-thread, and carries a pair of vanes. While in the position shown, the bomb is harmless, but as it drops, the vanes screw themselves up to the top of the stem till they press against the stop. This, by means of a rod passing down the center of the stem, “arms” or prepares the fuse seen at the bottom of the bomb, so that it acts at the slightest touch, even on the wing of another aeroplane. The fuse effects the explosion of the burster by means of a primer of azide of lead, which causes the tetranitranilin to detonate with great violence. The whole bomb weighs twenty-two pounds, and an aeroplane usually carries six of them.
The Italians, in their campaign in Tripoli, used similar bombs, but without the special device for rendering the fuse sensitive. These were not a success, as many of them failed to explode in the desert sand, and the Arabs used to collect them and throw them into the Italian trenches at night.
The Taube aeroplanes, when they flew over Paris, used sometimes to drop steel darts pointed at one end and flattened and feathered at the other, as shown in Fig. 2. These were put up in boxes of a hundred, so that when the box was released from its hook, it turned over and released the darts.
The “arrow bullet” shown in Fig. 3 is a French device; though weighing only three-quarters of an ounce, its peculiar shape enables it to acquire a high velocity, so that it will kill a man when dropped from a height of six hundred yards. An aerial torpedo carried by French aeroplanes for the destruction of Zeppelins is shown in Fig. 4; it contains a powerful charge of explosive and a fuse, to which the suspending-wire is connected. When dropped on a Zeppelin, the needle-pointed torpedo pierces the envelope and gas-chamber, but the wooden cross is arrested and the sudden jerk on the suspending-wire sets the fuse in action, causing the certain destruction of the airship. The torpedo would be too dangerous to handle, but the French have an ingenious device which renders it perfectly safe until it is dropped.
Various attempts have been made to mount machine guns on aeroplanes, but the operator, in his narrow seat, has hardly space to point a machine gun in any direction except straight to his front. The American Curtis machine gun exhibited at Olympia is the most efficient form yet produced, but at present the airman seems to prefer an automatic rifle. Even in the early days of the war, Sir John French was able to report that British airmen had disposed of no less than five of the enemy’s aircraft with this weapon.
The Zeppelins are well armed with machine guns, carrying one in each of the two cars, and one on top of the structure. Access is had to the latter by means of a shaft and ladder which passes up through the gas-chambers.
The Zeppelins have elaborate bomb-dropping apparatus with which it should be theoretically possible to drop a bomb with great accuracy, but on the occasion when it was tried at Antwerp, the Germans met with no great success. The principle of the bomb-dropping device is as follows: A sort of camera, pointed vertically downwards, is used, and an observer notes the speed with which an object on the ground passes across the field, and the direction in which it appears to move. He then reads the height of the airship from the barometer, which gives the time taken by the bomb to fall, say fifteen seconds for 3,500 feet. He has now to calculate, from the data given by the camera-observation, the allowance to be made for speed and leeway for fifteen seconds of fall, and to point his sighting-tube accordingly. The air-ship is steered to windward of the target, and at the moment when the target (say, the second funnel of a dreadnaught) appears on the cross wires, the nine hundred-pound bomb is dropped, and the ship goes to the bottom.
Scene of Air Raid on England.
Leigh, shown on the map, is only twenty-five miles from the British capital, and South End just five miles further on. The fleet of Zeppelins, or aeroplanes, or both, it will be seen, got uncomfortably close to the British metropolis.
NEW COMPLICATIONS IN NAVAL ATTACK — ATTACK ON LINER DESCRIBED — OPERATION OF TORPEDOES — NETS TO TRAP SUBMARINES — HOW CRAFT SUBMERGE.
What is the value of the submarine in war? Is it so great that all our theories of naval attack and defense will have to be revised? Are the great battles of the future to be fought under water? Is a little vessel of a few hundred tons to make the dreadnaught useless? German naval tactics in the present war have made these questions interesting alike to the expert, who has his answers to them, and to the layman, who is profoundly ignorant on the whole subject.
Simon Lake, an inventor who has done much to bring the submarine to its present degree of efficiency, says that “it is the first weapon which has a potential power to destroy an invading force, and also to prevent an invading force from leaving its own harbors or roadsteads, but which is itself useless for invading purposes.” This is at once an exaltation and a limitation of its effectiveness. Yet Captain Lake believes that it will be “the most potent influence that has been conceived to bring about a permanent peace between maritime nations.”
Heavy armament would have availed the Lusitania nothing, even if the vessel had been so equipped, declared Captain Lake. Even if the Cunarder had been bristling with guns from bow to stern, she could have done no damage to the under-water craft that attacked her. She was doomed when the submarine approached her.
The submarine with its periscope three feet under water could not have been seen fifty feet distant from the liner’s side, and the chances were she was 1,000 yards distant. No shot from the vessel could have located her, though aimed by trained officers.
The scenes on both the vessel and the little submarine may be pictured from a theoretical description given by Captain Lake as follows: “The great ship, knowing the lurking danger, is traveling at her best speed limit, changing the course from time to time in a zigzag manner. Waiting beneath the surface of the calm sea a big submarine, now said to be capable of discharging a torpedo at a distance of five miles, rolls idly in the underground swell. Her crew is sleeping or talking in the semi-fetid atmosphere that the compressed air tanks relieve from time to time. An officer sits with his eye glued to a periscope, which constantly revolves that he may discern the rising smoke of an approaching vessel.
“On the deck of the Lusitania passengers are lolling in steamer chairs or leaning over the rails. They covertly fear attack, yet the horizon shows no sign of the impending calamity.
“Suddenly the submarine commander focuses his periscope upon a faint and hazy line on the horizon. Closely he watches it move. An electric signal is given and the submarine crew is in place. Another and the boat swings silently and slowly on its course diagonal to that of the approaching vessel. The electric engines turn without noise.
“The vessels near each other. An order is transmitted from the conning tower to the forward compartment of the submarine. The outside ports of two bow torpedo tubes are closed; compressed air drives out all water. Two inside ports are carefully opened and two one-ton torpedoes are lifted by means of chain tackle and swung carefully into the tubes. The inside ports are closed and the outside ports again opened. The air chamber between the torpedo and the breaches is filled with air compressed to nearly 1,200 pounds to the square inch—nearly the force of exploding dynamite.
“Both vessels are closing together at right angles. On the bigger one all is gayety and hope of early and safe arrival at port. On the submarine all are alert. The bow is carefully trained toward a direct line over which the ship must travel. The speed and distance are carefully gauged by trained officers.
“The submarine sinks beneath the surface and men are stationed at the firing levers on each of the forward tubes. An officer stands with a watch in his hand, counting the seconds. A little bell tinkles over the lever man on the port or starboard side of the submarine. He pulls the lever which releases the trigger, and with a rush the enormous torpedo forces itself in a direct line toward the vessel. Another second elapses and the bell rings again. Similar action is observed on the submarine, which a moment later rises with its periscope above the slight ripple of the water.
“There is a deadening crash, as the shock is transmitted through the water and the resounding shell of the air-filled submarine. The officer at the submarine periscope, or conning tower, is the only living person on the submarine that sees a great vessel rise out of the water and slowly settle back. He knows that the shots have taken effect and he can offer no aid to the thousands who a moment later will be attempting to save their lives. He turns his bow homeward, or cruises for other victims of his mechanical ingenuity, as his sealed sailing orders may direct.
“The course of the torpedo from the time it is released in the tube by the lever trip is interesting,” said Captain Lake. “These torpedoes are made at a cost of $5,000 each, much of which is spent in testing. With their high charge of explosive placed well forward and a little plunger on the nose, connecting with a percussion cap, their interior presents the same view as that of a large steamship. The officer is a little gyroscope, impelled by compressed air. This in turn may be set from the outside to travel straight forward or on a curve, and by a timing device to change its course after a certain distance. Usually it is set to travel straight beneath the water at a depth of about fifteen feet.
“To insure accuracy the torpedo without explosive charge must be fired many times from a fixed torpedo tube. It is finally inspected and passed. As it leaves the torpedo tube on its last journey the trip releases the compressed air which turns its turbine engine. That in turn revolves the propeller. The rudder, speed and depth of passage are actuated by the gyroscope.
“A torpedo has been fired accurately at a distance of five miles. The distance for accuracy is between fifty yards and one thousand. Owing to the concussion on the ear-drums of those in a submarine the greatest distance compatible with accuracy is sought. As the plunger on the torpedo strikes the vessel it explodes the charge almost directly against the side of the vessel.”
The British naval authorities took measures to guard British shipping in the English Channel by stretching nets over as much of the water, particularly in the narrows, as possible. The nets are made of links of steel. These links are about six or eight inches in diameter and made of one-half inch steel. The nets are similar to those formerly used to guard battleships and large cruisers, but which have now been discarded because a torpedo will puncture the net and the second torpedo, which is fired only a second or two after the first, will go through the hole made by the first and reach the hull of the vessel.
These chain nets are moored very securely and have buoys at the upper edges to hold them in position. Often they are set just as a fisherman sets his nets. When the submarine, like a fish, gets in the pound it cannot get out, and those in the vessel must either die there or take chances on reaching the surface and swimming to shore.
It takes very little to disable a submarine. The hull is of comparatively thin steel which is easily punctured and the propeller when caught is absolutely useless. Even an ordinary fisherman’s net will disable a submarine, and should one get foul of such a net the chances of getting clear are very slim.
According to the German naval press, the latest submarines are fitted with double acting Diesel oil engines of 1,000 horse power or more. These engines are as simple and run as smoothly as marine steam engines and are as easily controlled. So strongly built are these craft that they can plunge to a depth of 150 feet, at which the water pressure is enormous.
A security weight, as it is called, of about five tons is carried. This can be released from the inside of the vessel at a moment’s notice, and the effect is like that of dropping a mass of ballast from an airship. When in diving trim, that is to say, when the boat is awash, an up-to-date submarine can disappear under water in fifteen seconds and re-emerge in twenty seconds. It can remain under water for a whole day and night, or even longer.
A submarine when submerged is handled mechanically. Those in charge cannot see where the vessel is going. The officer in charge steers according to the ranges he has taken when on the surface, and it is absolutely impossible to see obstructions that may be ahead. It is impossible to see another submarine unless the two are floating near the surface and in bright daylight. For this reason it is impossible for one submarine to fight another when submerged.
SEVENTY PER CENT OF CASUALTIES DUE TO ARTILLERY FIRE — INCREASED RANGE — MODERN GUNS — RAPID FIRING — HOW A BIG GUN IS AIMED — AWFUL DESTRUCTIVENESS OF MODERN GUNS.
A full century ago, Napoleon the Great, himself an artillery officer, had developed the fighting power of artillery of his day so as to make its fire a dominant factor on the battle-field. In the present war its action is even more important, since we learn from the front that seventy per cent of the casualties are due to artillery fire. It was the gun that took Liège and Antwerp, and it is the gun which held the contending armies pent up within a semicircle of fire. Once massed formations were abandoned, the gun lost its terrors to a great extent, and did not regain its place in military estimation till the introduction of the shrapnel shell.
This is a hollow steel projectile, packed with bullets, and containing a charge of powder in the base. (See Fig. 1.) It is exploded by a time-fuse, containing a ring of slowly burning composition which can be set so as to fire the powder during the flight of the shell, when it has traveled to within fifty yards of the enemy. The head is blown off, and the bullets are projected forward in a sheaf, spreading outwards as they go. The British eighteen-pounder shell covers a space of ground some three hundred yards long by thirty-five yards wide with its 365 heavy bullets.
Types of Shells
Fig. 1.—Shrapnel shell, packed with bullets that spread. Fig. 2.—A French quick-firer shell, like an enlarged rifle cartridge. Fig. 3.—The “Universal” shell, combining the action of shrapnel and high explosives. Fig. 4.—A fuse-setting machine.
In 1885 the British brought out the twelve-pounder high-velocity field-gun, which remained for some years the best gun in Europe. Its power was afterwards increased by giving it a fifteen-pounder shell, and, as a fifteen-pounder, it did good work in South Africa. Then came another development, the quick-firing gun now being used in the war, with a steel shield to protect the detachment. The quick-firing gun is badly named; its high rate of fire is only incidental, and is rarely of use in the combat. The essential feature of the “Q.F.” gun, as it is generally styled, is that the carriage does not move on firing, so that the gunners can remain safely crouched behind the shield.
The French gun as it was originally brought out has now been improved by the addition of a steel plate which closes the gap between the shields; and a steel shield is also provided to protect the officer standing on the upturned ammunition-wagon.
The carriage does not move, and the men remain in their positions behind the shield while the gun recoils between them. The carriage is prevented from sharing the movement of recoil by the spade at the end of the trail, which digs into the ground so as to “anchor” it.
The gun-recoil carriage, as the new invention was called, increases the rate of fire, since there is no delay in running up. The French were quick to develop this new feature, and set to work to make the rate of fire as high as possible. Up till then the ammunition fired from a field-gun had consisted of a shell, a bag of powder, and a friction-tube introduced through the vent to fire the charge. This was called a round of ammunition, and its complexity was increased by the fuse, which was carried separately and screwed into the shell when the round was prepared for loading, and afterwards set with a key to burst the shell at the required distance. The French combined the whole of these separate parts into one, so that a round of “fixed” ammunition, as now used, looks exactly like an enlarged rifle cartridge. (See Fig. 2.)
Further, they did away with the cumbrous process of setting the fuse by hand, and introduced a machine which sets fuses as fast as the shell can be put into it. One of these machines is shown in Fig. 4. It is of a later pattern than that of the French service gun, being the one used by the Servians with their new gun made by the famous firm of Schneider of Creusot. The machine is set to the range ordered by the battery commander, the shell is dropped into it, and a turn of the handle sets the fuse.
The independent line of sight is another modern device for facilitating the service of a gun. With this the gear for giving the gun the elevation necessary to carry a shell to the required distance is kept entirely separate from that used for pointing the gun at the target. The gun-layer has merely to keep his sighting telescope on the target, while another man puts on the range-elevation ordered by the battery commander.
The result of all these improvements is that the best quick-firing guns (among which the French gun is still reckoned) are capable of firing twenty-five rounds a minute. The German field-gun is hardly capable of twenty rounds a minute, being an inferior weapon converted from the old breech-loader.
But these high rates of fire are used only on emergency, as a gun firing twenty-five rounds a minute would exhaust the whole of the ammunition carried with it in the battery in three minutes.
One of the first consequences of the introduction of the shielded gun was the reappearance of the old common shell in an improved form. The common shell is almost as old as Agincourt, and consisted simply of a hollow shell filled with powder, which exploded on striking the object. When shrapnel came into use most nations abandoned the common shell. But shrapnel proved almost ineffective against the shielded gun, and the gunners were indifferent to the bullets pattering on the steel shield in front of them. The answer to this was the high-explosive shell, a steel case filled with high explosive, such as melinite, which is the same as lyddite, shimose, or picric acid. This, when detonated upon striking a gun, can be relied upon to disable it and to kill the gunners behind it.
Of late years a shell which combines the action of the shrapnel and the high-explosive shell has been introduced. This is the “Universal” shell (see Fig. 3) invented by Major van Essen, of the Dutch Artillery. It is a shrapnel with a detachable head filled with high explosive. When burst during flight it acts like an ordinary shrapnel, and the bullets fly forward and sweep the ground in front of it; at the same time the head, with its explosive burster, flies forward and acts as a small but efficient high-explosive shell. These projectiles have been introduced for howitzers and for anti-aircraft guns, and some of the nations with new equipments, such as the Balkan States, have them for their field-guns. Their introduction has, however, been delayed in Western Europe, as they are less efficient as such than the ordinary shrapnel, which is considered the principal field artillery projectile.
CANADIAN VICTIMS — TRENCH GAS AT YPRES — AWFUL FORM OF SCIENTIFIC TORTURE — REPORT OF MEDICAL EXPERT — KIND OF GAS EMPLOYED — ALLIES FORCED TO USE SIMILAR METHODS.
Killing by noxious gases may be, as the Germans claim, no more barbarous than slaughter by shrapnel, but it has been denounced in America as a violation of all written and unwritten codes and as a backward step toward savagery. Certainly the descriptions of responsible persons who have witnessed the pernicious work of the gas only deepens the horror with which all peace-loving citizens look upon “civilized” warfare.
The following description of the effect is told by a responsible British officer who visited some Canadians who were disabled by gas:
“The whole of England and the civilized world ought to have the truth fully brought before them in vivid detail, and not wrapped up as at present. When we got to the hospital we had no difficulty in finding out in which ward the men were, as the noise of the poor devils trying to get breath was sufficient to direct us.
“There were about twenty of the worst cases in the ward, on mattresses, all more or less in a sitting position, strapped up against the walls. Their faces, arms, and hands were of a shiny, gray-black color. With their mouths open and leaden-glazed eyes, all were swaying slightly backward and forward trying to get breath. It was a most appalling sight. All these poor black faces struggling for life, the groaning and the noise of the efforts for breath was awful.
“There was practically nothing to be done for them except to give them salt and water and try to make them sick. The effect the gas has is to fill the lungs with a watery frothy matter, which gradually increases and rises until it fills up the whole lungs and comes to the mouth—then they die. It is suffocation, slow drowning, taking in most cases one or two days. Eight died last night out of twenty I saw, and the most of the others I saw will die, while those who get over the gas invariably develop acute pneumonia.
“It is without doubt the most awful form of scientific torture. Not one of the men I saw in the hospital had a scratch or wound. The Germans have given out that it is a rapid, painless death—the liars. No torture could be worse than to give them a dose of their own gas.”
Asphyxiating gases seem to have been first used by the Germans in the fighting around Ypres in April, 1915. The strong northeast wind, which was blowing from the German lines across the French trenches, became charged with a sickening, suffocating odor which was recognized as proceeding from some form of poisonous gas. The smoke moved like a vivid green wall some four feet in height for several hundred yards, extending to within two hundred yards of the extreme left of the Allies’ lines. Gradually it rose higher and obscured the view from the level.
Soon strange cries were heard, and through the green mist, now growing thinner and patchy, there came a mass of dazed, reeling men who fell as they passed through the ranks. The greater number were unwounded, but they bore upon their faces the marks of agony.
The retiring men were among the first soldiers of the world whose sang-froid and courage have been proverbial throughout the war. All were reeling like drunken men.
“The work of sending out the vapor was done from the advanced German trenches. Men garbed in a dress resembling the harness of a diver and armed with retorts or generators about three feet high and connected with ordinary hose-pipe turned the vapor loose toward the French lines. Some witnesses maintain that the Germans sprayed the earth before the trenches with a fluid which, being ignited, sent up the fumes. The German troops, who followed up this advantage with a direct attack, held inspirators in their mouths, these preventing them from being overcome by the fumes.
In addition to this, the Germans appear to have fired ordinary explosive shells loaded with some chemical which had a paralyzing effect on all the men in the region of the explosion. Some chemical in the composition of these shells produced violent watering of the eyes, so that the men overcome by them were practically blinded for some hours.
Right-hand figure: British soldier wearing respirator with air valve on top.
Left-hand figure: German with respirator and goggles armed with burning-oil-distributor.
Right-hand figure: British soldier wearing respirator with air valve on top.
Left-hand figure: German with respirator and goggles armed with burning-oil-distributor.
Using Deadly Gas as a Weapon in War.
The German use of poisonous gases that asphyxiate soldiers of the enemy against whom they are directed, has made it necessary to devise a new defense. The pictures show the devices used by those who direct the use of the gases and those who have to meet their deadly vapors.
The effect of the noxious trench-gas seems to be slow in wearing away. The men come out of their violent nausea in a state of utter collapse. How many of the men left unconscious in the trenches when the French broke died from the fumes it is impossible to say, since those trenches were at once occupied by the Germans.
Dr. John S. Haldane, an authority on the physiology of respiration, who was sent by the British government to France to observe the effect of the gases, examined several Canadians who had been incapacitated by the gases.
“These men,” he said, “were lying struggling for breath, and blue in the face. On examining their blood with a spectroscope and by other means I ascertained that the blueness was not due to the presence of any abnormal pigment. There was nothing to account for the blueness and their struggles for air but one fact, and that was that they were suffering from acute bronchitis, such as is caused by the inhalation of an irritant gas. Their statements were to the effect that when in the trenches they had been overwhelmed by an irritant gas produced in front of the German trenches and carried toward them by a gentle breeze.
“One of the men died shortly after our arrival. A post-mortem examination showed that death was due to acute bronchitis and its secondary effect. There was no doubt that the bronchitis and accompanying slow asphyxiation was due to irritant gas.
“Captain Bertram, of the eighth Canadian battalion, who is suffering from the effects of gas and from wounds, says that from a support trench about six hundred yards from the German lines he observed the gas. He saw first of all white smoke rising from the German trenches to a height of about three feet. Then in front of the white smoke appeared a green cloud which drifted along the ground to our trenches, not rising more than about seven feet from the ground.
“When it reached our first trenches, the men in these trenches were obliged to leave, and a number of them were killed by the effects of the gas. We made a counter-attack about fifteen minutes after the gas came over, and saw twenty-four men lying dead from the effects of the gas on a small stretch of road leading from the advanced trenches to the supports. He, himself, was much affected by the gas, and felt as though he could not breathe.
“These symptoms and other facts so far ascertained point to the use by the German troops of chlorine or bromide for the purpose of asphyxiation. There also are facts pointing to the use in German shells of other irritant substances. Still, the last of these agents are not of the same brutality and barbarous character as was the gas used in the attack on the Canadians.
“The effects are not those of any of the ordinary products of combustion of explosives. On this point the symptoms described left not the slightest doubt in my mind.”
Various have been the opinions of chemists as to the kind of gas employed. Sir James Dewar, President of the Royal Institution, was of the opinion that it was liquid chlorine. Dr. F. A. Mason, of the Royal College of Science, considered it to have been bromine. Dr. Crocker, of the South-Western Polytechnic, said it may have been either carbon monoxide or liquid peroxide. Dr. W. J. Pope, Professor of Chemistry, Cambridge, and Sir E. Rutherford, Professor of Physics, Manchester University, agreed in thinking the gas to have been phosgene, a compound of carbon monoxide and chlorine, largely used in dye production in Germany.
“For some years,” stated Sir James Dewar, “Germany has been manufacturing chlorine in tremendous quantities. . . . The Germans undoubtedly have hundreds of tons available. If several tons of liquid are allowed to escape into the atmosphere, where it immediately evaporates and forms a yellow gas, and if the wind is blowing in a favorable direction, it is the easiest thing for the Germans to inundate the country with poison for miles ahead of them.
“The fact that the gas is three times heavier than air makes escape from its disastrous effects almost impossible, for it drifts like a thick fog-cloud along the surface of the ground, overwhelming all whom it overtakes.”
Of the German attack on the allied front near Ypres, Secretary of War, Earl Kitchener, speaking in the House of Lords on May 18, said:
“In this attack the enemy employed vast quantities of poisonous gases, and our soldiers and our French allies were utterly unprepared for this diabolical method of attack, which undoubtedly had been long and carefully prepared.”
It was at this point that Earl Kitchener announced the determination of the Allies to resort to similar methods of warfare.
“The Germans,” said Earl Kitchener, “have persisted in the use of these asphyxiating gases whenever the wind favored or other opportunity occurred, and His Majesty’s government, no less than the French government, feel that our troops must be adequately protected by the employment of similar methods, so as to remove the enormous and unjustifiable disadvantage which must exist for them if we take no steps to meet on his own ground the enemy who is responsible for the introduction of this pernicious practice.”
CRIMES IN BELGIUM EXPLAINED BY INSTRUCTIONS TO GERMAN OFFICERS—UNLIMITED DESTRUCTION THE END OF WAR—RULES OF CIVILIZED WARFARE CLEARLY STATED—OTHER EXCELLENT RULES.
The black crime of Louvain, the world-lamented destruction of the cathedral of Rheims, the denudation of the fair land of Belgium, with all its horrible attendant crimes, is explained, in part at least, by “Usages of War on Land,” the official manual of instructions to military officers compiled by the general staff of the German army. It is an authoritative exposition of the rules of war as practiced by the Germans.
Two general principles bearing directly on the question of the invasion of Belgium are clearly stated in this guide:
“A war conducted with energy cannot be directed merely against the combatants of the enemy state and the positions they occupy, but it will and must in like manner seek to destroy the total intellectual and material resources of the latter. Humanitarian claims, such as the protection of men and their goods, can only be taken into consideration in so far as the nature and object of the war permit.
“The fact that such limitations of the unrestricted and reckless application of all the available means for the conduct of war, and thereby the humanization of the customary methods of pursuing war, really exist, and are actually observed by the armies of all civilized states, has in the course of the nineteenth century often led to attempts to develop, to extend, and thus to make universally binding these pre-existing usages of war; to elevate them to the level of laws binding nations and armies; in other words, to create a law of war. All these attempts have hitherto, with some few exceptions to be mentioned later, completely failed. If, therefore, in the following work the expression ‘the law of war’ is used, it must be understood that by it is meant not a written law introduced by the international agreements, but only a reciprocity of mutual agreement—a limitation of arbitrary behavior, which custom and conventionality, human friendliness and a calculating egotism have erected, but for the observance of which there exists no express sanction, but only ‘the fear of reprisals’ decides.”
Put in plain language, these passages mean that there is no law of war which may not be broken at the dictates of interest. Unlimited destruction is the end, and only fear of reprisals need limit the means. The sentimental humanitarianism and flabby emotion which prevail elsewhere have no place in the bright lexicon of the German officer. “By steeping himself in military history,” the manual clearly states, “an officer will be able to guard himself against excessive humanitarian notions” and learn that “certain severities are indispensable in war,” and that “the only true humanity often lies in a ruthless application of them.” Then there is laid down this comprehensive general rule:
“All means of warfare may be used without which the purpose of war cannot be achieved. On the other hand, every act of violence and destruction which is not demanded by the purpose of war must be condemned.”
Interpreted by other passages in the volume, this implies that the end justifies the means. Barbarities may be forgiven if only they are useful. Thus “international law is in no way opposed to the exploitation of the crimes of third parties—assassination, incendiarism, robbery and the like—to the prejudice of the enemy.”
It must not be assumed, of course, that the German war manual is a defense of unlimited rapine. The rules of civilized warfare are usually stated clearly enough. But there are so many exceptions to the application of them that a zealous officer might well be pardoned if he regarded them as not binding whenever it was to his interest to ignore them. Thus, after a careful statement of the right of the inhabitants of an invaded country to organize for its defense, the advantages of “terrorism” are candidly set forth as outweighing these considerations in many instances. That policy has been illustrated in Belgium very significantly. The difference between precept and practice is also seen in the prohibition of the bombardment of churches and unfortified towns. Regarding the latter the manual says:
“A prohibition by international law of the bombardment of open towns and villages which are not occupied by the enemy or defended was, indeed, put into words by The Hague regulations, but appears superfluous, since modern military history knows of hardly any such case.”
Military history has been made since then, particularly by the German air raids on English seashore resorts.
Several other excellent rules in the manual may be contrasted with German practice in the present war.
“No damage, not even the smallest, must be done unless it is done for military reasons.
“Contributions of war are sums of money which are levied by force from the people of an occupied country. They differ in character from requisitions in kind because they do not serve an immediate requirement of the army. Hence, requisitions in cash are only in the rarest cases justified by the necessities of war.
“The military government by the army of occupation carries with it only a temporary right to enjoy the property of others. It must, therefore, avoid every purposeless injury, it has no right to sell or dispose of the property.”
“Usages of War on Land” makes interesting reading throughout, though the conclusions that the impartial reader will draw from it will not be in every case those which the German military authorities would have him draw.
DUMB ANIMALS PRESSED INTO SERVICE — PART PLAYED BY HORSE IN WAR — AMERICAN STOCK DEPLETED.
So overwhelming has been the thought of human suffering in Europe, so anxious has the world been to relieve it, that little thought has been bestowed on the dumb sufferers. Various war photographs have shown us the novel sight of the dogs of Belgium impressed into service for dragging the smaller guns; but all contestants use horses, and when we reflect that the average life of a cavalry horse at the front is not more than a week, if that, we gain some idea of the sacrifice of animals which modern warfare demands.
One of the pleaders for the horse is John Galsworthy, the English novelist, who gives in the London Westminster Gazette this moral aspect of the use of the horse in warfare, with the attendant obligation:
“Man has only a certain capacity for feeling, and that has been strained almost to breaking-point by human needs. But now that the wants of our wounded are being seen to with hundreds of motor ambulances and hospitals fully equipped, now that the situation is more in hand, we can surely turn a little to the companions of man. They, poor things, have no option in this business; they had no responsibility, however remote and indirect, for its inception; get no benefit out of it of any kind whatever; know none of the sustaining sentiments of heroism; feel no satisfaction in duty done. They do not even—as the prayer for them untruly says—‘offer their guileless lives for the well-being of their countries.’ They know nothing of countries; they do not offer themselves. Nothing so little pitiable as that. They are pressed into this service, which cuts them down before their time.”
The horse still plays an important part in war, as every army service corps officer who has had anything to do with them well knows. The men love their mettlesome beasts, and much trouble and worry is pardoned and lost sight of in the comradeship which arises between man and beast. The great part played by motors and motor-driven vehicles in the present war has tended to draw attention away from the work of horses at the front, yet motor cavalry has not been evolved. While recognizing that for moving big guns along a well-made road motor power is very valuable, it is still equally true that once the roads are left it is found in practice of little use.
A remarkable feature of the European war, new, so far as we know, to military experience, has been the use upon an extensive scale of the heavy draught horse, whose stately pace admits of no hurrying, but whose great strength permits of his hauling very heavy weights where the nature of the road does not admit of the use of the motor.
That the European war threatened to deplete the stock of horses even in the United States is emphasized by a careful computation which fixed at 185,023 the number of horses shipped to the warring nations from July 1, 1914, to March 31, 1915. The value of the animals, according to an inventory compiled from the manifests of ships transporting the horses is placed at $40,695,057. During that same period 26,976 mules, valued at $5,143,270, were sent abroad.
Buyers representing the British, French and Russian governments were reported as searching the country for more, and, according to estimates made by shippers, at least 120,000 animals were to be shipped to Europe during the summer of 1915.
Frank L. Neall, statistician, asserted that few persons realized the extent of the raid made by European buyers on the horse market. “Shipments,” he said, “have been made from New Orleans, Newport News, Portland, Boston and New York. During the month of March, 33,694 horses were shipped, representing a value of $8,088,974.”
Shippers were deeply interested when it became known for a certainty that the German government had representatives purchasing horses in the West. Wood Brothers, the largest horse dealers in Nebraska, were asked to bid on a 25,000-head shipment. Ruling prices for the grade of horses desired by foreign buyers have ranged from $175 to $200 per head.
The stockyards in New Orleans, where these animals were assembled, cover about eight acres and shed 3,500 animals. Horses were thoroughly examined as to their fitness for service, both at the point of purchase and at New Orleans.
The last step before placing the horses on shipboard was to adjust special halters to them, so that, as in the case of many horses purchased by France, it was only necessary, when the animal reached the other side, to snap two straps to his head-stalls and make him instantly ready to be hitched to a gun limber or a wagon of a transport train.
THE COMMON ENEMY, DISEASE — SCOURGES OF MODERN WARFARE — RAVAGES OF TYPHUS IN SERVIA — NO WORD OF COMPLAINT — AMERICA TO THE RESCUE.
In many campaigns of the past, disease has slain its thousands where bullets and shells have killed hundreds, and even the twentieth century with its marvelous science of sanitation has not defeated the direful common enemies of allies and foes. Why disease should attack masses of men in the prime of life, living in the open air, and on the whole well fed and clothed, at first sight seems strange, but when we remember that modern fighting begets an intolerable thirst, which the soldier is naturally tempted to slake as best he can and when he can, at least one reason is not hard to find.
All modern armies, since the striking experience of Japan in the Manchurian campaign, pay special attention to the drinking water, and with good results. But an irremovable source of disease remains in the typhus-carrying vermin, in the myriads of flies bred in the rotting carcases of men and horses and in the filth that inevitably collects around perpetually shifting camps and bivouacs. As everyone now knows, these insects are ceaseless and tireless carriers of infection, and it is difficult to see how, under conditions of war, the plague of them can be utterly wiped out.
Of the diseases which assail an army in the field, a few stand out so prominently that all others may practically be neglected. These are cholera, typhus, typhoid fever, dysentery, and pneumonia; and they have this in common, that they are all caused by specific bacilli. Thus cholera is the child, so to speak, of the dreaded vibrio, and pneumonia that of the pneumococcus; while typhus, typhoid and dysentery have each their own special microbe. The modes of attack are, however, different, for the pneumococcus can enter the organism by the nose and mouth only; typhoid and dysentery through the alimentary canal; while the way in which cholera is propagated is at present unknown. All have this in common, that while the microbes causing them are probably always present—that of cholera being a doubtful exception—they seem only to assault a subject previously weakened by exposure, bad food, or intemperance.
The dread aftermaths of war made their first visitations upon the Servian nation. One read with dismay that Belgium was later outdone by Poland, and Poland seemed almost fortunate beside Servia. The account sent by Captain E. N. Bennett, Commissioner in Servia for the British Red Cross Society, of the conditions prevailing in Servian hospitals and prisoners’ camps filled the whole world with dread. “Fires are needed to clear Servia of typhus, just as fires were needed to stop the great plague in London,” reported Sir Thomas Lipton, who spent considerable time in that country. He said:
“I met on the country roads many victims too weak to crawl to a hospital. Bullock-carts were gathering them up. Often a woman and her children were leading the bullocks, while in the car the husband and father was raving with fever. Scarcely enough people remain unstricken to dig graves for the dead, whose bodies lie exposed in the cemeteries.
“The situation is entirely beyond the control of the present force, which imperatively needs all the help it can get—tents, hospitals, doctors, nurses, modern appliances, and clothing to replace the garments full of typhus-bearing vermin.”
His picture of the hospital at Ghevgheli, where Dr. James F. Donnelly, of the American Red Cross, died, is appalling. Sir Thomas called Dr. Donnelly one of the greatest heroes of the war:
“The place is a village in a barren, uncultivated country, the hospital an old tobacco factory, formerly belonging to Abdul Hamid. In it were crowded 1,400 persons, without blankets or mattresses, or even straw—men lying in the clothes in which they had lived in the trenches for months, clothes swarming with vermin, victims of different diseases, typhus, typhoid, dysentery, and smallpox were herded together. In such a state Dr. Donnelly found the hospital, where he had a force of six American doctors, twelve American nurses, and three Servian doctors. When I visited the hospital three of the American doctors, the three Servian doctors, and nine of the nurses were themselves ill.
“The patients were waited on by Austrian prisoners. The fumes of illness were unbearable. The patients objected to the windows being opened, and Dr. Donnelly was forced to break the panes. The first thing Dr. Donnelly did on his arrival was to test the water, which he found infected. He then improvised boilers of oil-drums, in which to boil water for use. The boilers saved five hundred lives, said Dr. Donnelly. He also built ovens in which to bake the clothes of the patients, but he was not provided with proper sterilizing apparatus.
“No braver people exist than the Servians. They have never a word of complaint. In one ward I saw a fever patient, his magnificent voice booming songs to cheer his comrades. Some were in a delirium, calling for ‘mother.’
“One source of infection is the army black bread, which is the only ration of the troops. The patients in the hospital receive only a loaf each, which they put in their bed or under their pillow. Later the unused loaves are bought by pedlers and are resold, spreading disease among the people, who are mediæval in so far as sanitation is concerned. A Servian soldier receives a rifle, some hand-grenades, and perhaps part of a uniform, but otherwise looks after himself.
“The street-cleaning and hospital-waiting are done by Austrians, who are rapidly thinning from typhus and other diseases.
“The best hospital in the Balkans is at Belgrade, under Dr. Edward W. Ryan, of the American contingent, where there are 2,900 patients. Dr. Ryan kept the hospital neutral during the Austrian occupation, and accomplished wonders diplomatically at that time. He is worshiped by the people.
“Dr. Ryan says that the greatest task is to keep the hospital free from vermin. The typhus affects men the most severely. Women come next, and children for the most part recover. The symptoms begin like those of grip. The disease lasts fifteen days, with fever and delirium.”
In the spring of 1915, a large sanitary commission was organized by the American Red Cross and the Rockefeller Foundation, each of these organizations donating $25,000 to the prosecution of the work. The commission included a group of distinguished bacteriologists and physicians, among them William C. Gorgas, surgeon-general of the U. S. A. An initial supply of 10,000 anti-cholera treatments was carried to Servia by the commission, for there was danger not only of a spread of typhus but also of an outbreak of Asiatic cholera or some other infectious disease that might sweep across all Europe. Heavy indeed is the price of warfare.
EFFICIENCY OF THE RED CROSS SERVICE — THE BANDAGING CAMP — THE SANITATION COMPANY — THE HOSPITAL BARGE.
Amid the dreadful welter of carnage and its attendant agony which spells modern warfare one ray of brightness appears in the universal gloom in the shape of the highly organized efficiency of the Red Cross Service, which waits upon battle. Die Umschau, of Berlin, printed an admirable description of its activities from the pen of Professor Rupprecht, one of the chief organizers of the German Military Hospital Service, of which we give an abstract:
“The stretcher-bearers of the infantry—four to each company—who bear the Red Cross symbol on the arm, when a battle is on hand, gather at the end of the battalion (sixteen men with four stretchers) and then proceed to the Infantry Sanitation Car. As soon as the ‘bandaging camp’ is made ready . . . they go to the front with stretchers and knapsacks in order to be ready to give aid to the wounded as soon as possible. Musicians and others are employed as assistant stretcher-bearers. These wear a red band on the sleeve but do not come under the provisions of the Geneva Treaty.”
Similar arrangements are made for the cavalry. The so-called “bandaging camp” is for the purpose of gathering the wounded and examining and classifying them. It should be both protected and accessible, and if possible near a water supply. At the end of a battle it is the duty of the troops to search trenches, woods, houses, etc., for the wounded, protect them against plunderers and carry them to the bandaging camp, as also to bury the dead.