Air and Sea Power in World War I: Combat and Experience in the Royal Flying Corps and the Royal Navy 9780755623662, 9781780761510

Citation preview

This book is dedicated to the memory of my grandparents Claude and Mary Philpott

Philpott_prelims.indd v

3/24/2013 10:33:52 PM

Philpott_prelims.indd vi

3/24/2013 10:33:52 PM

ACK NOWLEDGEMENTS

So many people have contributed to the development of this book and it would be impossible to list them all. Some have shared their academic ideas and others provided useful distraction, both of which, at times, were hugely valuable. My most sincere thanks to my supervisor, Joanna Bourke, who saw the potential in this project many years ago and has been unstinting in her support ever since. Thanks also to David Edgerton for guiding me through the history of technology and providing useful discussion. My colleagues at Imperial College London, first in the Graduate School and then the Innovation & Entrepreneurship Group, have been encouraging throughout and extremely flexible, for which I am most grateful. Thanks to the people who read chapters, or generously provided useful direction, insight or diversion in London and Cambridge, including Renee Peck, Melanie Woodward, Charlotte Forsyth, Simon Elliston Ball, Catherine Robinson, Philippa Shallard, Kelly Hayes, Duygu Ozcan, Cher Li, Rudi Eliott Lockhart, and Maria Margonis. And thanks, of course, to my family Gillian, Kevin and Laura. This book could not exist without I.B.Tauris who waited a long time for it to be written but always saw its value. Thanks particularly to Lester Crook and Tomasz Hoskins for their help in its development.

Philpott_prelims.indd x

3/24/2013 10:33:52 PM

INTRODUCTION

There are no British survivors of the Great War. On 25 July 2009, a turning point in the history of this conflict, the last soldier, Harry Patch, died and the First World War moved permanently into the past. Patch outlived Royal Air Force veteran Henry Allingham by just a week, but it is the experiences of soldiers in 1914–1918 that have been the historiographic focus. Nearly 700,000 men served in the navy and airforce in this conflict (almost as many as the total British casualties), but their contribution has never been explored. Their knowledge of conflict, encapsulated in the diaries, letters and memoirs of pilots and sailors, reveals the diversity of the war experienced between 1914 and 1918. Unlike war in the trenches, it is ‘jolly nice to land at 10:30 am and feel you are pretty much done for the day’, pilot Charles D. Smart noted in his diary in February 1917. ‘Fritz evidently doesn’t like working before breakfast,’ he continued, ‘and I am inclined to agree with him ... a good solid foundation of bacon & eggs makes a good base to work from.’1 Meanwhile, Douglas King-Harman on patrol onboard HMS Swift for the Royal Navy expressed far less enthusiasm for his role. In a letter to his grandfather in 1917, he wrote of the ‘heartbreaking work patrolling night after night ... [only] to miss the enemy when he does come ... . It has always been their [sic] torpedoes which hit & ours which missed, and that couldn’t go on for ever.’2 The Royal Navy expected to dominate the war and force victory, so the frustration of King-Harman typified the response of sailors who had

Philpott_Intro.indd 1

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

2

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

expected to fight. The Royal Flying Corps (RFC) began the conflict with no significant role, yet the regular patrols over German lines and daily contact with the enemy, recorded by Smart, saw the air force earn a permanent position as Britain’s third service. Still, it has been the soldier who has dominated the academic and cultural study of warfare. Yet the oldest and youngest services made a significant contribution to eventual victory and both were permanently altered by the events of 1914–1918. The Great War retains an emotional hold over modern Britain. From the annual remembrance ceremonies to honour the fallen, through the frequently-quoted poetry of Owen and Sassoon, to representations in popular culture, this conflict continues to fascinate. Whether this is Laurence Binyon’s promise to always remember, or regret that it happened at all, the experience of soldiers in the trenches had a significant impact on British life, and crucially, its approach to later conflict.3 Whilst impressing these events onto the national memory, however, hundreds of thousands of men have been left behind. It is estimated that three quarters of a million British servicemen died in the First World War, and there have been almost one hundred years of remembrance, yet in 1918 there were almost as many men serving as pilots and sailors, and they have simply been forgotten. Without the presence of the Royal Navy and Royal Flying Corps, this would have been a very different conflict. The naval blockade and domination of the North Sea in particular prevented enemy attacks on the British coastline and contributed to the eventual diminution of Germany’s resources. The intelligence-gathering of pilots on the Western Front and their aggressive role in Home Defence and longrange bombardment of German industrial centres was vital to British strategy and morale. Superficially these are two very different services; the navy – old, hierarchical, centralist and in some ways tired – took a defensive role, but was expected to win the war with a decisive battle. Its men were extensively trained to expect glory and to spend their careers as naval personnel. The Royal Flying Corps was young and at the cutting edge of technological development. Its structure, nominally based on the army’s, was more relaxed, and men engaged in personnel warfare after a relatively brief training period. In 1914, few

Philpott_Intro.indd 2

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

INTRODUCTION

3

expected the Corps to achieve anything, or to become much more than an auxiliary service. Yet both services were motivated by duty, and both were challenged by the new technologies of twentieth-century warfare. They also shared, like soldiers, an experience of war that limited actual fighting to contained periods, and spent much of their time waiting, which makes them an interesting comparison. Both services had to grapple with prolonged demands for new technology to match German advancement, and faced the challenge of developing effective systems when machinery alone was insufficient to end the war. The extent to which the oldest and newest services were able to do this is an interesting question, and one which this book examines. Was the navy, with its established methods, ingrained service culture and fearsome reputation, better able to meet the demands of combat, or was the fledgling Royal Flying Corps, in its first conflict, with no proven structure or experience, more able to adapt as the war progressed? Both services periodically struggled, failed and succeeded, and by returning them to the story of the First World War, it is possible to understand, in all circumstances, why servicemen continued to fight.

The Royal Flying Corps The Royal Flying Corps was established in 1912 and existed for six years until it was refashioned into the Royal Air Force (RAF). It was Britain’s first military air service. Prior to this, enthusiasm for aerial development was confined to wealthy enthusiasts giving acrobatic displays to the public. Government investment meant expansion and when war was declared in 1914, the nucleus of an air force went to France with the British Expeditionary Force (BEF), whilst civilian instructors were requisitioned to train new pilot recruits. From this handful of aeroplanes and men, the Royal Flying Corps grew into a permanent third service. By 1918, the RFC’s intelligence-gathering role had expanded to include aerial combat, short and long-range bombardment, home defence, agent dropping and artillery support. Each of these developments was encouraged by the pilots of the RFC, and

Philpott_Intro.indd 3

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

4

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

established the basis of aerial power in the twentieth century. Their pioneering effect is, therefore, worth examining. The existence of the Royal Flying Corps owes much to the arms race of the early twentieth century, and Britain’s belief that it lagged behind other nations in its support for aviation. At the International Conference on Aerial Navigation in 1910 it was noted with concern that Britain was trailing behind other countries in the production of aircraft and a group was formed to investigate the potential for military aviation. In 1912, the Subcommittee of Imperial Defence on Aerial Navigation was reportedly ‘impressed with the evidence which has been placed before them regarding the backward state of Aerial Navigation in this country, when contrasted with the progress made by other great naval and military powers.’ 4 A second, and perhaps more important, concern was the disputed ownership of airspace, indicating a breach with Germany that would be of importance during the war. The Subcommittee on Imperial Defence noted that the British government’s view was that ‘sovereignty over the soil extends to the air above it, while the theory advanced by the German delegates ... was that the air is free to all.’5 In consequence, the formation of the Royal Flying Corps was quickly advanced and plans for its establishment agreed. The Aerial Navigation Act established the Royal Flying Corps on 1 April 1912 under the combined aegis of the War Office and the Admiralty. It comprised a military and naval wing whose duty was to support the work of the parent services. The military wing began to prepare air bases from which the service could grow. The establishment of Farnborough in 1913, as noted in the Aldershot Annual Report for 1913, included the construction of barracks for 300 men, a sergeants’ mess, 32 married quarters, sheds for 28 aeroplanes and a wagon shed for 16 motor vehicles. Meanwhile, it was noted that a flying track at Eelmoor Marsh was in preparation, whilst further improvements were being made at Laffan’s Plain.6 It was recommended that officers were paid 10 shillings a day for flying in addition to their Corps pay. Thus, a Second Lieutenant would earn 14s. 6d. per day from the Corps plus 10s flight pay, a total of £447. 2s per year. The Squadron Commander would earn 25s. per day plus 10s. flight pay, giving him

Philpott_Intro.indd 4

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

INTRODUCTION

5

£638. 15s per year.7 There were lengthy discussions as to whether service in the air was of itself sufficiently brave to warrant the issue of a Distinguished Service Order (DSO), even in peacetime. Yet another committee was established to consider ‘what form the rewards should take and the conditions qualifying for a reward’.8 However, the navy objected to both the awarding of the DSO in peacetime and the creation of a new award for the air service. From the beginning, cooperation between the military and naval wings was, therefore, difficult and the two worked almost independently. They trained their men at separate bases (Farnborough for the military wing and Eastchurch for the naval wing), and pursued their own methods of technological development. The navy, at that time more open to new equipment, employed civilian manufacturers to effectively develop the seaplane. By 1914, separation of the two wings was stark, and shortly before the outbreak of war the Admiralty claimed ownership of all naval flying, forming the Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS). Meanwhile, the military wing became the sole user of the name Royal Flying Corps, and it is with them that this book is primarily concerned.9 At the outbreak of war, the RFC could muster four squadrons, totalling 109 officers and 66 aeroplanes. Their hierarchical structure mirrored the army, increasing from Second Lieutenant as the lowest commissioned rank to Field Marshal at the top.10 Pilots were all officer class, and largely recruited from more privileged families who could afford the initial £75 cost of a Royal Aero Club Certificate, which was a precondition for entry into the military air service. The type of men applying can be seen in the Subcommittee’s report on aerial navigation from 1912, establishing the RFC. It suggested that members of the Flying Corps who own aeroplanes, should be encouraged to bring these to the Central Flying School, when they undergo their training there ... . Owners should be indemnified in the event of a serious accident to their machines, when so employed, or repairs should be effected at the cost of the state. They should, in addition, receive hire for their machines on a scale to be laid down.11

Philpott_Intro.indd 5

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

6

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

The number of recruits in England who could afford a £75 certificate and owned their own plane was relatively small, but men were still eager to join this new group, especially once war was declared. Men joined the Flying Corps often for the excitement of being in the air and the possibility of a quicker transfer to France. James McCudden joined the Royal Engineers in April 1913 and applied for a transfer to the RFC. ‘I felt that I was going to a calling which I thought would suit my rather erratic temperament,’ he recalled.12 Many men transferred from the army, and were proud to have experienced trench life, as William Fry recalled in his memoir. ‘It has always been a source of pride to me,’ he exclaimed, ‘to have served and fought as a private solider with the old pre-1914 Regular Army ... . It was an education and a delight to a youth of seventeen to serve in the trenches and in action with these men, real soldiers.’ Yet, in the winter of 1914, Fry decided to leave the mud and transfer to the RFC where he had ‘noticed the glamour attached to wearing pilots’ or observers’ wings ... . A notice appeared in unit orders that officer volunteers were wanted for the RFC so I put in my name.’13 Similarly, William Bishop, a Canadian, was so eager to get to the fighting before it was all over that he took a friend’s advice and applied for the Flying Corps, having been ‘assured ... it would be easy to arrange a transfer ... . [If] I wanted to get to the front quickly I would have to go as an observer’. Bishop later trained to become a pilot and remembered his time as an observer being tame in comparison to his more exciting time as a fighter pilot later in the war.14 This eagerness to be at war, preferably in the Flying Corps, was shared amongst colonial volunteers. In fact, as R. H. Kiernan recorded, at demobilization it was found that many Americans had posed as Canadians in order to enter the RFC. Consequently, ‘in many of the fighter squadrons, each of which consisted of twenty-five pilots, an average of four were Americans’, Kiernan explained. They posed as Canadians ‘because they judged that by joining our air service that was already in being they would reach the War more quickly.’15 Likewise, Australian F. C. Penny, when visiting an exhibition of farm equipment with his father in 1914, was attracted by the sight of an aeroplane in the centre of the arena:

Philpott_Intro.indd 6

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

INTRODUCTION

7

Under strict supervision people were permitted to walk around to view this wonderful contraption consisting of wood, wires, fabric and engine which they said would fly! ... It was a Bleriot, and carried the first official airmail from Melbourne to Sydney in 1914 ... . After a few months I felt the urge to enlist for service overseas. Penny enlisted in the army in June 1916 but soon became a pilot and travelled to England for training on Salisbury Plain. Once enlisted, men were sent to training establishments and issued their kit. A 1915 Training Manual recorded that the kit should include a ‘leather coat with overall trousers lined with wool. If these are not available, a good substitute is a British-warm coat, with a waterproof or oil skin worn over it.’ Men should also have a leather cap with ear flaps which should be worn with a couple of balaclavas over the top to protect from the cold, with a flying helmet on the top. Men also needed flying goggles to protect their eyes and a muffler to cover their neck and chest. Boots and gloves were essential and should be loose fitting to allow extra socks and gloves to be worn underneath, as ‘woollen gloves worn alone do not keep out the wind ... . Vaseline is useful for the hands and feet as a protection against cold.’16 As technology developed and planes began to reach greater heights, protecting men against the elements became an increasing concern. Since men were required to supply their own kit, greater precautions were taken by pilots to protect themselves from cold. By 1915, the role of the aircraft in war was becoming more firmly established and for the remainder of the conflict, the multiple roles of the RFC included reconnaissance, directing artillery fire, air fighting, aerial bombing to undermine enemy production and aggressive action against troops. The air force sought aerial superiority and the way to obtain it was ‘by moral effect of success in a series of such combats’, the 1915 training manual instructed, to which end ‘there must be no cessation of effort ... until not only the enemy is prevented from carrying out any reconnaissance, but their machines are driven from the element altogether and command of the air is complete.’17 By 1918, the Royal Flying Corps combined each of these methods of fighting to

Philpott_Intro.indd 7

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

8

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

overwhelm the enemy and claim the aerial ascendancy on the Western Front. It was a difficult task, often frustrated by technology and the vigorous defence of German pilots. Yet the RFC, which in 1914 was regarded as an auxiliary service, earned its independence by becoming the Royal Air Force. How men maintained their belief in this outcome, and thereby managed to achieve it, is a subject of this book.

The Royal Navy The Royal Navy, by contrast, had existed for centuries, but was unexpectedly undermined by its role in the First World War. Its potent combination of history and power created high expectations of victory in the Great War. However, no major sea battle ensued and the navy was relegated to a supportive role. This affected long-standing public enthusiasm, even though the blockade of German ports had significantly aided the Allied victory. This was not the role that sailors had hoped to play, and their own memoirs speak of disappointment and regret. The cost of the First World War to the Royal Navy was significant and left it unsure of its future role. In 1914, the Royal Navy had little to prove. It was the most advanced technological service in the world with an established reputation as the preserver of the British Empire. Founded in the sixteenth century by Henry VIII, it was tested most notably by the coming of the Spanish Armada in 1588 during Elizabeth I’s reign, and later at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805, under Nelson’s command. Consequently, the navy was at the forefront of England’s defence plans. Its role in the creation and sustenance of the Empire was firmly established during the Interregnum when the beginnings of British rule abroad were emerging. From this point British colonial plans grew rapidly, bringing not only power and wealth to the home nation, but encouraging trade links that affected Britain’s economic and cultural future. Running parallel to this was a role in scientific exploration in all corners of the world. Beginning with the Elizabethan explorers, through the discovery of Australia and extending to the Arctic adventurers of the twentieth century, the Royal Navy had long been associated with the development of Britain’s understanding of, and role in, the

Philpott_Intro.indd 8

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

INTRODUCTION

9

international context. In many ways, by 1914 the navy was the ultimate symbol of Britain. It represented the power and might of its forces, the intellectualism and scientific understanding of the Enlightenment, and the cultural transmission of the Protestant ethic to the world. Above all the Royal Navy embodied success, in the memories of its greatest battles and most celebrated heroes. In the first decade of the twentieth century, its purpose was to seek battle, to emulate these expectations, and to win the First World War. Men joined the Royal Navy for all these reasons. Unlike the other services, sailors enlisted for a career, intending that they would move through the ranks during their working life. More than this, however, it offered a way of life, a code of gentlemanly values which men wanted to live by, established through the various customs and traditions. The value of discipline, encoded in the hierarchical system and the often brutal punishments were also used to maintain this sense of order. The strict regulations and belief in hierarchy gave its men a behavioural guide for all situations, creating a structured and ordered system. The experience of the navy in the First World War is arguably one of the most complicated of the services. On the one hand, Britain dominated the High Seas Fleet, was rarely engaged in battle and maintained its control of shipping and supplies throughout the conflict. As several historians have recently shown, Jan Rueger and Niall Ferguson amongst them, the technological position of the Royal Navy and its public estimation were practically unassailable at the start of the war.18 Yet the experience of sailors in this conflict suggests that they were far less satisfied with its outcome. For men trained to expect conflict and hopeful of a climactic victory, the quiet nature of the war at sea led to some disappointment. There were three notable encounters with the enemy, at Heliogoland Blight in 1914, at Dogger Bank in 1915 and at Jutland in 1916. None proved to be the war-ending engagement the navy had expected. The encounter at Heligoland Blight on 28 August 1914 was considered an early victory for the Royal Navy. Although the fleets remained in their ports, both sent patrols to survey the area around Heligoland in the first months of the war. Britain ambushed one such patrol and both lost four ships. However, over 700 German sailors were killed,

Philpott_Intro.indd 9

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

10

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

over 500 were injured and more than 300 were captured. By contrast, the Royal Navy lost just 35 men, with 40 wounded. As a consequence of this action, the High Seas Fleet was ordered to remain in port and not to engage with the superior fleet. For the remainder of the war, it was increasingly difficult for Britain to lure its enemy into an open sea fight. Following their new conservative policy, the German navy limited the number of ships it sent out on patrol. The Battle of Dogger Bank was little more than a skirmish fought on the 24 January 1915 when the Royal Navy intercepted a party of German raiders, after receiving advanced intelligence. Britain gave chase, successfully sinking a German ship, but sustained damage to its own flagship which took months to repair. Although this was considered a victory for the Royal Navy, the German fleet escaped and the war continued. The encounter revealed a number of signalling problems between British ships that allowed their counterparts to evade capture and return to their ports. Some of these issues would be repeated at Jutland the following year where the opportunity to end the war was again squandered. The Battle of Jutland was the most famous, and only significant, naval encounter of the Great War. Fought on 31 May–1 June 1916, Jutland was the only engagement involving full-scale battleships. Germany’s purpose was to engage a portion of the British fleet and break the blockade. The Royal Navy lost 14 ships and the High Seas Fleet lost 11 on the first day. Overnight the British forces manoeuvred to come between the enemy and their ports so the battle could be concluded the next day, but, as with Dogger Bank, the German ships escaped and the stalemate at sea continued. Both sides claimed a victory, but the Royal Navy lost twice as many men and its only opportunity to destroy the opposing fleet. After Jutland, Germany remained in its ports avoiding engagement, and switched its attention to unrestricted submarine warfare to covertly undermine the British stranglehold. All of this had a notable effect on the enthusiasm of British sailors. Naval warfare in this conflict primarily consisted of watching and waiting for the enemy to emerge. The few battles that occurred were frustratingly indecisive and British failures affected the morale of its

Philpott_Intro.indd 10

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

INTRODUCTION

11

men, exposing them to the new dangers of submarines and mines. The history of the navy is interesting because although it retained a position of great strength throughout the war and was virtually invincible, the writings of sailors reveal anger, disappointment and regret at a victory which they did not feel part of. This book examines that paradox to understand the experience of the war at sea from the perspective of the men who fought it.

Historiography Since the Armistice, books about the First World War have been prolific, revealing an obsession with this particular conflict that endures almost 100 years after it began. From veterans keen to add their voices to the public recollection in the 1920s, to the twenty-first century historian trying to understand Britain’s place in the world, this conflict has retained an emotional resonance in the national memory. Histories of the Great War have been frequently produced since the Armistice as a means to record, and somehow to understand, the events of 1914–1918. In the ensuing years, these works were created to reassure a war-weary nation that victory had been attained and the conflict had been worth enduring. However, another war in the 1940s showed that the unsatisfactory outcomes of the First World War culminated in a second, and in many ways far more devastating, conflict. In the wake of the Second World War, therefore, the precedent set by the first conflict was reconsidered, whilst simultaneous developments in historiographical methods led to the flowering of individual history, made possible by a wider interest in social reforms (such as the NHS) and a more established role for women and ethnic minorities in society. By the 1960s, with the fiftieth anniversary of the Great War, the individual was becoming firmly embedded in the cultural history of this conflict. This section considers some of the key texts in each decade to show that although the nature of historical study has evolved, works about pilots and sailors have not progressed in the same way. Soldiers have always been the primary focus for historians. From Martin Middlebrook’s examination of men on the Somme to Richard Holmes’s Tommy, soldier experiences have dominated the historiography

Philpott_Intro.indd 11

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

12

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

of this conflict. Partly, this relates to the conditions endured by men in the trenches and how this was presented in the disillusioned memoirs and poetry published in the 1920s. As soldiers were demobilized, they brought home the truth of war, and it was less easy for the public to believe in the jingoistic sentiments of 1914. The evidence was before them in the death toll, the disabled veterans, the unemployment figures and the economic crisis. But the historians’ focus on the army is based on the incorrect assumption that the airforce and the navy played a negligible role in the conflict. Accounts of the Royal Flying Corps fall broadly into two categories – veteran accounts and enthusiast histories, the latter being concerned with aeroplanes and engine specifications rather than pilots. Few historians have recorded or understood the war record of this service and the cultural existence of the airman in France and Belgium. Why men chose to serve their country in the airforce rather than the infantry has been overlooked. Even during the great flowering of First World War history in the 1960s, when oral history first became a driving force in understanding the war experience, the role of the Flying Corps (and indeed the Royal Navy) was largely forgotten in favour of the misery of the trenches. Those historians who did acknowledge the presence of the Flying Corps produced tactical guides to encounters and skirmishes between rival pilots, rather than analyses of the men involved, their culture, background and motivation. Fundamentally, the history of the RFC has always been part of the technical history of flying and mainly used as a preface to the Battle of Britain in the Second World War. It has never been considered as a distinct and vital part of Britain’s total Great War effort. The men of the Royal Navy have also been excluded from the story of the Great War. They too faced the challenges of technology, political machinations and the influx of civilians into every area of their institution. The historiographical reasons for the disregard of the navy are complex. The writing of naval history has been quite different to the army and airforce, reflecting the nature of naval life as a lifestyle rather than a job for its servicemen. Boys were recruited from the age of 12, and stayed until retirement, imbibing hundreds of years of prestigious history along the way, a strict moral and behavioural code for

Philpott_Intro.indd 12

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

INTRODUCTION

13

all occasions, and a deep public respect for the premier guardians of Britain’s shores. During the First World War, each service was popularly regarded in quite different ways: the Army dominated coverage as it contained the highest number of men and thereby focused the emotional investment of millions of mothers; the Royal Flying Corps had romance, and the Navy inspired respect and admiration. These perceptions endure until the present day and have affected written histories. Twentieth-century writing on the Royal Navy has maintained an essential continuity with centuries of naval traditions and history writing, viewing the Great War as just one of many conflicts in which it had participated since its inception. Crucially this does not suggest aberrance, or disconnection with the past, which some works on the Army and RFC in the Great War have stressed. The nature of historical study has evolved throughout the twentieth century, moving from a strategic focus on battles and generals, to understanding the human emotions and motivations of the ordinary soldier in combat. Briefly charting how the Great War has been interpreted and re-imagined by historians will make it be possible to see why pilots and sailors have been largely omitted from these accounts, and how techniques now commonplace in writing about soldiers should be applied to other services to fully understand Britain’s contribution to this conflict. Proud of pilot achievements, the first histories of the air war appeared in the early 1920s including the voluminous The Great War in the Air (1920) by Edgar Middleton of the Royal Naval Air Service. His four volumes provide a detailed chronological insight into all aspects of the war, written with the romantic tone that has long been associated with early notions of aerial warfare. ‘Behind the mask,’ Middleton gushed, ‘burnt incessantly the all-absorbing flame of pulsating Youth. The joie de vivre was ever uppermost. How they enjoyed this poor mortal existence, those gallant boys and youth!’19 The purpose of this work, and the others of this decade, was to record and pay homage to the courage and honour of the men who served, but without dissecting the modes and methods employed by men on active service. Walter Raleigh and H. A. Jones’s seven-volume The War in the Air: Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by The Royal Air Force, written between 1922 and 1937, stands alongside Middleton’s

Philpott_Intro.indd 13

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

14

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

work as a thorough tactical history, placing far greater emphasis on the technical advances made by both the Royal Naval Air Service and the Royal Flying Corps in detecting the enemy and establishing combat systems. In fact, one of the peculiarities of pilot accounts was recognition of their place in the history of flying, rather than personal reminiscences, so Middleton, Raleigh and Jones, like other veteran pilots, wrote to reinforce the permanence of the RAF, by no means assured in the 1920s, and guarantee the First World War pilot a place in the story of aviation. Meanwhile, naval historiography reflected the need to assess the effects of the conflict, praise achievement and deflect the negative attacks of some of its veterans. Henry Newbolt’s text A Naval History of the War 1914–1918 (c. 1920s), therefore, identified the primary subject matter of naval histories for the next 60 years. Naval duties, he wrote, ‘were practical and particular ones ... . The British fleet fulfilled its traditional work ... on a scale never known before.’20 The men who devoted themselves to these duties and their reasons for doing so never really mattered. According to Newbolt, the navy was one homogenous body, driven by honour and proud of its illustrious history. The sailors who fought the war were just constituent parts of the whole, and not even the social changes in British society after the Second World War would alter that historical perspective. It was really from the 1960s that there was significant interest in the First World War as an historical event, and as methods began to change, a new perspective on the individual in history began to emerge. Previously unconsidered aspects of the past came to the fore whilst simultaneous advances in technology produced the tape recorder and established oral history, the recording of interviews (i.e. original testimony) from those who had witnessed events, archived like documents for future use. Most importantly, as a consequence of the government’s 50-year rule, a flood of official records became available to the Great War historian for the first time. Benefiting from this, the Royal Flying Corps was one such ‘unconsidered aspect’ that came under discussion. The Royal Flying Corps: A History by Geoffrey Norris (1965) was one of the first books to make use of ‘the generous help of the men who served in the Royal Flying Corps’. He acknowledged that their ‘willingness

Philpott_Intro.indd 14

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

INTRODUCTION

15

to talk or to write ... or to loan documents’ was invaluable. 21 Norris accentuated the role of individuals who had shaped the development of the RFC, and showed that squadrons had frequently been responsible for their own advancement; for example, he wrote that ‘again it was left to the individuals of the RFC to show what could be done. ... No 3 squadron ... [as] no government funds were available ... bought their own cameras.’22 Home Defence was also examined; Douglas Robinson looked at the division of control between the RFC and RNAS in his book The Zeppelin in Combat: A History of the German Naval Airship Division 1912–1918 (1962), which stressed German unpreparedness for war and the false belief that England would not fight. Thus the success of the Zeppelin and the fear it engendered was primarily psychological.23 The secondary naval works of the 1960s focused entirely on policy, strategy and leadership, reinforcing the continuity of naval life and traditions, in contrast to the direction in which other histories moved in this decade. Sidestepping the personal dimension, Geoffrey Bennett looked at technical elements of warfare in his Naval Battles of the First World War (1968). It was ‘a drama to be played in three acts’, he explained, ‘the first between cruisers overseas, the second in Home waters between the opposing battle fleets, the third ... under the sea’. This book, like its counterparts, dealt with the highest level of decision-making, weighed the advantages and disadvantages of protagonists’ strategies to conclude that both navies wished ‘to avoid an engagement’. To achieve this, the defeat of the U-boat was fundamental to British success.24 What it was like to participate in battles and use these strategies was overlooked by Bennett’s volume, which preferred a top-down view of the fighting process – a perspective shared by Correlli Barnett in The Swordbearers (1963). In the early twentieth century, Barnett mocked, ‘the navy was no longer a deadly functional instrument of policy: it was an exclusive yacht club. Yet by August 1914, in ten years, it had been ... transformed once more into a fighting service’, and this was largely thanks to the direction of Admirals Jellicoe and Fisher. Barnett’s concentration on those in the Admiralty (for all their faults) is typical.25 Despite the opportunities of the 1960s, historians continued to favour a traditional history for a traditional Navy.

Philpott_Intro.indd 15

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

16

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

The 1970s was perhaps the most highly politicized decade in historical study and this was particularly true for writings on the First World War. For many historians, the conflict had been a watershed for radical change in the nation when the Edwardian past had become illusory, and radically different to the uncertain and fundamentally altered post-war world. This decade saw strong political feeling with class disputes, trade unionism and economic complexities dominating contemporary thought, and this shaped the historians’ perspective on the past. ‘History from below’ was at the crux of scholarship in the 1970s, utilizing the oral history interviews from the previous decade and examining questions of motivation and endurance. Fussell believed that a radical break with literary tradition had occurred and soldier-writers created a ‘victim’ character to reflect their time at war. Similarly, historian John Keegan wrote of the blind faith of soldiers in their hierarchy, which removed any notion that men had determined their own war experience. Works on soldiers have much to contribute to the understanding of pilot and sailor experience. Many of the techniques now prevalent in the study of the army can be applied to the other services to offer a complete picture of Britain’s role in the Great War. Martin Middlebrook was among the first historians to use oral history interviews recorded during the 1960s to emphasize the centrality of 1916 to the veteran’s views on the war. His book The First Day on the Somme (1971) used interviews to demonstrate that disillusionment with the war came after the Armistice.26 The histories of the 1970s were united by the notion that 1914–1918 had been a radical watershed in the lives of the individuals in question and in the progress of the country. The use of oral history and memoir by 1970s historians argued that war had dislocated the ideal Edwardian past from a confused and broken present. At the centre of this was the soldiervictim, conscripted, oppressed and continually affected by his experiences on the Western Front. The most notable book on the Flying Corps, Aces High: The War in the Air Over the Western Front 1914–1918 by Alan Clarke (1973), argued that political manoeuvring kept good soldiers out of the RFC, because it was considered inferior to the Army:

Philpott_Intro.indd 16

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

INTRODUCTION

17

[Until] the outbreak of war candidates for the Royal Flying Corps had first to qualify for the Royal Aero Club certificate by taking a civilian course at their own expense (no easy task on a subaltern’s pay and leave schedule). Senior regimental officers discouraged their favourites from applying ... and there was an unspoken implication that those who tried for the RFC were unconventional ... or still worse, ‘unsatisfactory’.27 Consequently, the RFC was perceived as the preserve of the rich and ill-disciplined, upper-class boys without sufficient courage for army life. This upper-class lifestyle, according to Clarke, firmly divided them from the honest working-man soldier. Yet Clarke simultaneously declared these playboy-airmen were victims of an unappreciative High Command who had left them under-staffed with inadequate equipment and increasing stress. Even ‘by the time Bloody April of 1917 came round’, Clarke insisted, ‘the very high casualties ... had left few crews with proper combat experience. The army’s insistence on continuous “offensive” patrols and the total obsolescence of their equipment were causing squadron casualties of approximately thirty per cent per week.’28 Although the 1970s were characterised by the politicization of history, this was, predictably, not the case in naval history. Edwyn Gray produced two notable texts – A Damned Un-English Weapon (1971) and The Killing Time (1972) – both concerned with submarine warfare. Primarily obsessed with tactics and the effect of the submarine on overall strategy, Gray revealed minimal details of onboard life, except that ‘there was little time for boredom and sea sickness was one of the greatest problems’.29 The navy’s attitude was always to focus on their professional role, and this was reiterated by Gray’s later book, a narrative history of U-boats and comparison of British-German strategy. ‘There can be little doubt,’ Gray asserted, ‘that the effectiveness of the British blockade had a strong bearing on the decision to employ the U-boat ... . [T]he submarine was the only available weapon of retaliation.’30 Naval history continued to look at plans and tactics in the 1970s, and, even though it recognized new aspects such as submarines and medical vessels, the focus was always strategic and statistical.

Philpott_Intro.indd 17

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

18

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

However, in their own small way, these works began to look outside the Admiralty and away from traditional battleships – which in naval history was revolutionary enough. With more than 60 years’ distance from the conflict, and veteran numbers dwindling in the 1980s, historians began to use these sources to challenge the idea of soldiers as passive victims of unremitting conflict. Tony Ashworth’s Trench Warfare 1914–1918 argued that serving in different areas of the front affected experience in different ways. Consequently, ‘no “single”, “typical” or “truly common” war experienced existed.’31 This work was vital to studies of the soldier because it showed the variance between the types of warfare they engaged in. Ashworth’s book began to dispel the notion that soldiers were kept in a permanent state of entrenched misery, suggesting that there was far more variation in the experience of conflict than the poetry suggested. Ashworth’s explanation of ‘quiet’ and ‘active’ sectors is extremely relevant to naval and airforce studies where men faced similar challenges. The 1980s also saw greater attention paid to the home front and in particular the suffering of parents and families. Trevor Wilson in his 1986 text The Myriad Faces of War argued that ‘soldiers were not alone in their victimhood’, yet their writing had dominated the memory of war.32 In fact, Britain suffered from many of the exigencies of total war, and the freedom of its citizens underwent numerous restrictions including limitations to the amount of popular entertainment and even food. Wilson helped to broaden the cultural perspective on the First World War, encouraging it to be seen as a conflict that had a resounding effect on all the people of Britain. This book expands Wilson’s examination of the home front to look at the servicemen stationed there and the very different ways in which this affected their experience of war. Pilots and sailors were resident in Britain throughout the war and were tasked with its protection, giving them a very different perspective on the conflict from those stationed more remotely in France. Of all aspects of aerial combat, it is the problems of home defence that have most interested historians largely because of its ramifications for the Second World War. The Air Defence of Britain 1914–1918 (1984) by Christopher Cole and E. F. Cheeseman argued that protecting the home front lacked the glamour of ‘chivalrous combat high above

Philpott_Intro.indd 18

3/24/2013 10:33:16 PM

INTRODUCTION

19

the squalor of the trenches’.33 Their narrative history catalogued the squabbles between the RFC and RNAS, neither of which wished to be responsible for Home Defence because it diverted valuable resources from what they considered their real work. The stress on politics and the inevitable need to reorganize resources was directly related to 1980s centralist political thought, as individual men had little control over the direction of the war and decisions made. Richard Hough focused on sailors’ experience in The Great War at Sea 1914–1918 (1983). The Royal Navy, he argued, never experienced something like the Boer War to knock its complacency, thus Britain lagged behind Germany in training and professionalism. Hough argued that the failure of the navy to successfully wage war was due to a range of reasons from ‘unsuitable material, to lack of imaginative leadership, from inadequate preparations to a deep-seated and abiding national arrogance’. This meant, Hough argued, that many months were wasted in the early stages whilst the Royal Navy prepared itself for a conflict that had pre-empted it.34 ‘The Navy,’ Hough quipped, ‘continued to be regarded as a career for the less intellectually endowed and young men who liked the “clubbable” closed world and looked forward to steady rather than swift advancement.’ This was in contrast to the view of RFC boys as wealthy, unruly, thrill-seekers without the courage to face the slog of the trenches.35 Hough’s book is refreshingly scornful of grandiose naval histories. His book has helped to emphasize the incredible advances that made the navy an efficient, dominant force by 1918. From the 1990s, the historiography of the Great War returned to the trenches to reconsider the process of warfare and its consequences for manliness. George Mosse was among the first to examine the effects of the conflict on contemporary views of masculinity. In The Image of Man (1996), Mosse asserted that volunteers ‘considered the war as a test of their manhood’, and many were excited by the opportunity.36 Joanna Bourke’s Dismembering the Male (1996) and An Intimate History of Killing (1999) agreed with Mosse’s reassertion of the soldier as an active participant in conflict rather than a faceless victim of mechanised war.37 Understanding how men were encouraged to kill, through the ideals of masculinity, and what effect this had

Philpott_Intro.indd 19

3/24/2013 10:33:17 PM

20

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

on their motivation helped place the veteran back at the centre of the war experience. The 1990s also saw a change in the public relationship with history as it became readily accessible through a variety of alternative sources. Popular culture opened history to widening audiences through books, films and the heritage environment. Museums and stately homes were transformed and the heritage industry began to affect academic study. J. G. Fuller channelled these new influences in his examination of trench popular culture. Troop Moral and Popular Culture in the British and Dominion Armies 1914–1918 (1991) looked to trench newspapers as a commentary of intra-unit communication, especially ‘the jealousies and feelings otherwise perhaps too trivial to be generally recorded’.38 He moved from the individualistic ideas of the 1980s and began to look at the unit and mateship as motivators, and in particular the role of the individual in the wider group. Most importantly, Fuller directly challenged the idea of war as a radical divide in society, arguing that soldiers did not feel entirely dislocated from their pre-war selves. Samuel Hynes concurred with this assessment in A War Imagined (1990), in which he argued that literary styles were not disconnected by the conflict. ‘The past may have felt like a heap of broken images,’ he wrote, ‘but in fact much that had been established and secure in 1914 was still intact in post-war English society.’39 This examination of popular culture is relevant to the study of pilots and sailors because as the oldest and newest services, they both used established popular culture language to describe their exploits and affirm their role in the political landscape. Historians in the 1990s and early twenty-first century also considered the role of the combatant in post-war society. From Adrian Gregory’s Silence of Memory to Jay Winter’s Sites of Memory, Sites of Mourning, the consequences of war and the unsuitability of the commemorative process came under examination. Gregory, like Hynes and Fuller, argued that existing modes of remembrance were used after the war but soldier-veterans often felt excluded from this national grief and its memorialization, which did not reflect their experience of war.40 Winter argued that commemoration was less concerned with understanding the war than reconciling the memory of conflict with its social, cultural and economic consequences.41

Philpott_Intro.indd 20

3/24/2013 10:33:17 PM

INTRODUCTION

21

The writings on the Royal Flying Corps (and even the Royal Naval Air Service) have rarely produced more than two serious academic works per decade since the Armistice. The most scholarly book in the twenty-first century has been David Edgerton’s England and the Aeroplane: An Essay on a Militant and Technological Nation. This reexamined the birth of aviation, arguing that Britain was enthusiastic about air power and its technological processes were strengthened by its existence.42 Although this is a key text in positioning the aeroplane in British history, it does not focus on the pilots who experienced, and in some cases influenced, the growth of First World War aviation. In the twenty-first century, even the experience of sailors has begun to be considered more deeply. Jan Rueger’s monograph Great Naval Game (2008) and article ‘Nation, Empire and Navy: Identity Politics in the United Kingdom 1887 – 1914’ have addressed the cultural perception of the Navy in the years leading up to the First World War, and examined public engagement with the navy.43 Rueger’s book looks at the pageantry of fleet displays and the conscious attempts by the Royal Navy to embody the spirit of the British Empire in the early years of the twentieth century in order to appeal to the public. Although not about the First Word War, it has opened the door to greater analysis of the cultural history of the navy in this period. Rueger’s article from 2004 places the navy at the centre of nationalist sentiment in the 30 years preceding the Great War. He showed that ‘the Royal Navy was one of the most important agents of Britishness in the Victorian and Edwardian era.’44 This book contextualizes the sailor experience of the Great War, through the writing of the men who served, to understand the role they believed they performed in the preceding years. The first decade of the twenty-first century has been a challenging one for historians. Contemporary wars raise questions about the purpose of conflict and its role in modern society. With popular culture exploring every aspect of modern warfare, the authenticity of experience now seems to rest with the combatant. For historical study this has meant an increasing number of anthologies collating the various experiences of war. In many ways the role of the soldier in society has come full circle since 1914. Originally a figure to be admired, in the aftermath of war and the ensuing decades the soldier has been both feared and

Philpott_Intro.indd 21

3/24/2013 10:33:17 PM

22

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

pitied. In the light of modern conflict, when public support for war has dissipated, the soldier is again seen as a victim of war created by governments. Joshua Levine published On a Wing and a Prayer (2008), an anthology of pilot testimony from the First World War, to coincide with the ninetieth anniversary of the Armistice and establishment of the RAF.45 Many similar books have been published to celebrate all three services and have returned combatants’ own words to the centre of historical study. Historiography has developed significantly since the 1920s, when first-hand experience gave way to narrative political strategy. However, Levine presents the accounts in vague chronological order, without any criticism of the sources. It is a useful collection, but not a history because it offers no analysis of airmen and the peculiar position they held in the Great War. Aside from charting the progress of flying and narrating the manoeuvres and encounters of each squadron, no one has explored why men chose to join the aerial services and what kept them there in spite of the difficulties of establishing air power. Questions remain over the effect of the long-unresolved ‘fuzzy’ area between the RFC and RNAS (the political ramifications of which left both suffering staff and equipment shortages) and above all the new modes of death, which could as easily come from technological failure and human error as from enemy action. The proliferation of memoirs in the mid-1920s, therefore, attempted to counter a romanticised vision of conflict as veterans attempted to claim ownership of the true war experience. The quest in writing about the Great War, for combatants and historians, has been to understand the conflict and attempt to find meaning in the experiences. Running parallel to this has been a cultural concern with the meaning of ‘Britishness’. The twentieth century has been seen as slowly eroding Britain’s position in the world, starting with the First World War, through the loss of empire, to the social welfare system of the past 60 years. All of which has cast the values and purpose of the country into question. The individual testimony of men, who have embodied British patriotism, is used as the only truth about war. The challenge for historians is to reassume their role in interpreting the past. ***

Philpott_Intro.indd 22

3/24/2013 10:33:17 PM

INTRODUCTION

23

This book expands the understanding of soldiers’ lives, crafted over 90 years of historiographic focus, to include pilots on the Western Front and home front, as well as sailors in the North Sea and English Channel, whose contribution has rarely featured. To fully understand Britain’s role in the Great War and the consequences for the development of Britain as an international power in the twentieth century, the role of the pilot and sailor is valuable. The effects of the First World War are still felt. Britain lost an empire but gained a political presence on a newly-created world stage. That position owes much to the growth of civilian air transport and improved international communications that were developed by the pilots and sailors of the Great War. The testimony of these men offers insight into the lived war experience and its later reconstruction in memory. The Western Front has dominated the academic exploration of soldiers in this conflict, so demonstrating that two other forms of warfare were happening simultaneously in this theatre of war is the first step towards widening the army-centric view of the Great War. Comparing the experience and motivation of the pilot and sailor in the Great War will aid the understanding of why men fought, and continued to fight, despite the conditions of combat. The two services were separated by age, the nature of conflict each was engaged in, and the attitude and the demands war made upon their men. They started and ended the war in quite different positions, and this makes them an interesting comparison. Their composition was also very different; the Flying Corps with new, recruited wartime volunteers, was at the cutting-edge of modern science, was in combat for clearly-defined periods of time, and enjoyed a relaxed structure. The navy, by contrast, was comprised largely of career-sailors, many of whom had been in service since the age of 12. They had a stringent hierarchy and discipline, were controlled from the top and endured long periods at sea with a relatively consistent level of danger. Seemingly quite opposite to one another, both services created the feelings of loyalty necessary for men to remain at their posts, and the enthusiasm for victory that sustained them. Using the diaries, letters and memoirs of servicemen creates various problems for the historian. Each, in some sense, can be considered

Philpott_Intro.indd 23

3/24/2013 10:33:17 PM

24

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

an ‘unreliable’ source because of its highly subjective nature and reliance on memory. However, they are the best and only sources that give insight into individual experiences of war and the ways in which men understood their role. Letters were often produced under difficult circumstances, were censored by senior officers, and assumed to report an idealized version of combat intended to bring comfort to the recipient. Historian Aribert Reimann complained that servicemen were often inexperienced with writing and adhered to a ‘widespread reluctance to tell family members about the horror of war’. All of which, he concluded, were ‘ample reasons not to read soldiers’ letters as an “authentic” documentation’ of experience’.46 However, soldiers’ letters in particular contained graphic descriptions of their experiences at the front and it was natural to suppose that men would look to their family for support. Letters were vital to the maintenance of motivation because they provided a link to each combatant’s pre-war self and constantly reminded him why he had volunteered to fight. Importantly, by writing letters to loved ones, combatants could also be sure they were being heard and would be more likely to be truthful. The flood of recollections in the inter-war period affirms that soldiers wanted the public to understand their experiences, providing motivation to write honestly to their relatives. Candid letters were sent from personnel of the Royal Flying Corps and Royal Navy, so their use here supports their value in motivating men to fight. Diaries introduce similar problems of reliability and were officially banned in the First World War. The use of the personal diary was different from today; they were not used to unburden the emotions of the owner, but as a means to record events. They often dispassionately noted the key actions of the day but with little discussion of their meaning or more introspective considerations of their effects. Used in this way, diaries give the clearest indication of the combat experience, as lived day to day, and the tasks of the men involved. The perfunctory recording of events is exemplified by two entries in pilot A. J. Robinson’s diary from 1918. On 3 August he wrote: ‘Got fed up with keeping a diary so didn’t for a few days.’ A few days later he reconsidered and on 8 August wrote: ‘Two more dud days except that on the latter I developed toothache.’47 The brevity of these

Philpott_Intro.indd 24

3/24/2013 10:33:17 PM

INTRODUCTION

25

entries are revealing in themselves. The first suggests that pilots had other amusements that meant keeping a diary became a burden for Robinson, whilst the second indicates that as there had been no flying in recent days, nothing worth recording had occurred. These two short lines suggest the breadth of the war experience, in that when patrols were impossible, pilots had alternative duties or diversions that distracted Robinson from diary-keeping. The value of the diary to the historian is for the insight it offers into the daily lives of servicemen, and as much for the information men chose to record as to omit. The time for reflection would be after the war had been won, when the perfunctory entries in their diaries could be expanded. Diaries, however, became more problematic sources when published, as the original text was often embellished with later reflections. These diaries, like memoirs, pose questions of reliability in their sanitization or exaggeration of events. Like memoirs, however, the published diary also offers insight into the attitude of servicemen to their war experiences, and the ways they chose to remember the conflict. The Great War was one event that many veterans felt shaped their lives in some indefinable way and the memoirs they wrote often reflected this perspective. Paul Fussell in his definitive 1975 text The Great War and Modern Memory described the memoir as a ‘kind of fiction, differing from the “first novel”... only by continuous implicit attestations of veracity or appeals to documented historical facts’.48 The memoir, Fussell suggests, is influenced not only by the writer’s knowledge of his survival but by the time of writing, both of which have altered his perspective on the war. Historian Ken Plummer expanded on the problem of memories, describing them as ‘simply our most habitually told stories ... . It is what we have said so often that we literally come to believe it is true (even when not).’ 49 Men repeatedly recreated the war in various forms, reliving and repeating their stories that with each telling would have become increasingly distorted. However, the memoir is testament to the lifelong obsession highlighted by Fussell, and although the war was not a radical break with the past in the cultural or political sense, within the lives of these men it was. It was an experience which many wished to relive and re-visit throughout their lives, searching for its meaning.

Philpott_Intro.indd 25

3/24/2013 10:33:17 PM

26

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Most works on the airforce have been retrospective, taking the Battle of Britain or development of civilian air routes as a predetermined end point and fitting the 1914–1918 airman into these later developments. Yet the men of the Great War focused on the immediate moment, with no knowledge of the future, and it is this that makes their experience, as they wrote it, worth exploring. The development of the air force in the Great War was the direct result of pilot actions. Exploring how men responded to conflict and what drove them to improve and develop the weapons and tactics used to fight Germany is essential to understanding how the Royal Air Force came to exist. Most importantly, the events of the Great War were the basis for the development of military and civil aviation in the twentieth century, not by predestination, but because of the pilots of the Royal Flying Corps who made it possible. Historical study has evolved significantly, and naval history must also now engage with the socio-cultural practices prevalent in other fields of Great War understanding. Whether Jutland was a success or a failure, the effectiveness of Sea Lords and of the Admiralty will continue to be debated, but what sailors felt they were doing, their motivations, intentions and reasons for endurance, are far more interesting questions vital to understanding Britain’s role in the Great War and the effect it was to have on the country in the subsequent years. To understand the nature of conflict entirely, and why the naval position as the perceived saviour of Britain was blemished by this conflict, is essential to understanding how the twentieth century developed. This book addresses the question of endurance as expressed by officer airmen and sailors during the conflict and what motivated them to remain in the conflict in spite of the deprivations they experienced. It is time to focus attention on the men who experienced the war and how they learnt to fight.

Philpott_Intro.indd 26

3/24/2013 10:33:17 PM

CHAPTER 1 TR AINING

During the Great War the military authorities faced a bewildering task – that of turning civilians into fighting men in just a few months. When it was realised that the conflict would last beyond Christmas 1914, the demand for recruits became acute. New methods of enrolment were required to encourage thousands of men – who would otherwise not have joined the army, navy and air force – to sign up for the duration of the conflict, and learn to be effective personnel. As Joanna Bourke has asserted, ‘in all these training programmes, the fundamental process was the same: individuals had to be broken down and rebuilt into efficient fighting men.’1 This chapter examines the training process in the navy and airforce to understand how effectively it prepared men for conflict. The Royal Flying Corps and Royal Navy fulfilled quite diverse purposes in the war, and consequently offered different training programmes. The RFC’s system taught men to fly. Instruction in service and the development of professional culture were left to develop ‘naturally’ and unofficially amongst squadrons at the front. In this sense, the Flying Corps’s training system can be described as pragmatic because it prepared men to understand their technology and enabled them to master it effectively. Pilots were taught how to do their duty through practical instruction in the use of their craft, and could enter service fully cognizant with the work they were expected to do. Training centres provided pilots with the skills they required

Philpott_Chap01.indd 27

3/24/2013 10:30:41 PM

28

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

to perform their role, be it photography, wireless or skilled use of aircraft. In contrast, the Royal Navy taught sailors the prestige of their service. Focusing on discipline, order and hierarchy, the navy inculcated the history and purpose of the service. Recruits were being trained for a long career in which it was hoped they would emulate the great heroes of the service and attain climactic victories. Consequently, this training programme was different of the RFC’s because it supplied more than the technical knowledge of shipping; it taught a way of life. Pilots were recruited to perform a specific role just for the duration of the conflict. Yet for the purposes of the First World War, naval training can be described as ‘defensive’ because it did not encourage men to initiate hostile action when the opportunity arose, but instead to rely on the traditions of strategy, hierarchy and command that had served their predecessors so well. This chapter compares the practical and immediate training programme of the Royal Flying Corps with the more theoretical grooming of men for a life in the navy, and discusses how effectively they prepared men for conflict.

Royal Flying Corps Training The Royal Flying Corps training programme had two main purposes – teaching men to fly and creating loyalty. The programme was divided into three sections: creation of military identity, theories of flight and weaponry, and flight training. Prior to this, as a condition of entry, men had to earn a Royal Aero Club Certificate, funded at their own expense, from one of the numerous civilian flying schools. ‘To join the Royal Flying Corps officers would first have to have the consent of the military authorities,’ historian Geoffrey Norris explained, and ‘be medically fit, and then obtain a Royal Aero Club certificate. The cost of this, some £75, would have to be borne by the officer, who would be refunded if he passed and was accepted into the RFC.’2 Consequently, only those who could afford the initial outlay of £75 would have a chance to enter the newest military service.

Philpott_Chap01.indd 28

3/24/2013 10:30:41 PM

TR AINING

29

The civilian flying schools based at Hendon soon became Britain’s most important aviation centre. ‘Before the war,’ historian Peter Hart enthused, ‘Hendon was the home of a dramatic series of aerial flying displays that provided entertainment for huge crowds. It was the absolute cutting edge of modern science; yet wildly unpredictable and dangerous to boot.’3 Leonard Rochford, awaiting his nineteenth birthday in order to join the Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS), travelled to Hendon to obtain his certificate or ‘ticket’. Rochard had a choice of five civilian schools – the Grahame-White, Beatty, Ruffy-Baumann, Hall and London & Provincial: After visiting them all and reading their brochures I eventually decided on the London & Provincial, although their fee was £100 whereas the other schools charged £75. I think I preferred it because it was the only one that did not use dual control, its methods being to put the pupil into the machine alone and get him into the air by stages, giving him verbal instructions on the ground at each stage.4 Rochford’s class included approximately a dozen other men, a combination of civilians, army officers and RFC aspirants. ‘I never had any dual control work before I took my licence, which I succeeded in obtaining about three weeks after I started,’ L. A. Strange boasted in his 1933 memoir, ‘this was about the average time it took in those days.’ To gain a Royal Aero Club Certificate, Strange had to ‘learn thoroughly (by instinct rather than any experience based on vision) what should be the machine’s altitude in regard to the ground when taxying [sic], how to get the tail up to the correct height to gain flying speed in the shortest possible distance and how to take off.’5 Within three weeks of first stepping into an aeroplane, a pupil would be qualified to fly and could join the Royal Flying Corps for military instruction. Men clamoured to enlist in the Royal Flying Corps, eager to ally themselves with Britain’s newest military service. When war began in 1914, the RFC had existed for only two years and training was undertaken at the Central Flying School (CFS) at Netheravon, but this

Philpott_Chap01.indd 29

3/24/2013 10:30:41 PM

30

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

would soon be inadequate for the numbers demanding instruction, as the War Office noted in 1922: From the beginning of war applications for commissions in the Royal Flying Corps were very numerous, and there was in May, 1915, a waiting list of 500. Instruction, during the first six months of the war, was hampered by the paucity of experienced pilots available at home to act as instructors, and by the shortage of serviceable aeroplanes ... . In August, 1914, the Central Flying School provided accommodation for 20 military pupils, and was our only source of supply.6 With limited means, the programme was designed to quickly create identity and loyalty in the newly recruited civilians who could be moved rapidly through the stages of training and ultimately shipped to France. The first stage of RFC training was instruction in military bearing and attitude. To create an effective fighting force, the RFC needed to encourage trainees to think and act like pilots, putting their military duties above personal fears. The process of ‘rebuilding’ the trainee thus began from the first moments of his entering the Royal Flying Corps. With three weeks of civilian flight training, the officer-pilot was first sent to a Cadet Training School for basic theoretical training. ‘We soon settled down to the task in hand,’ Australian farmer’s son, F. C. Penny wrote, which first meant ‘attempting to digest that prodigious volume known as Military Law, which contains every conceivable subject that an officer must know. Correct words of command in drill. Practical demonstrations in that we were expected to take charge of small and large numbers of troops in different formations.’ Officers were taught elements of command immediately to encourage a feeling of responsibility for their men from the beginning, to learn how to manage a platoon or squadron, and to form a bond of trust with their charges whose lives they would direct. RFC officers were simultaneously reminded of their own place in the hierarchy and the loyalty they, in turn, would owe to their commanders. ‘For drill and discipline’, Penny continued, ‘we had a

Philpott_Chap01.indd 30

3/24/2013 10:30:41 PM

TR AINING

31

S/gt Major Sunshine, one time champion heavyweight boxer ... a real martinet and a stickler for discipline in every way, even to making sure that on the first bugle call we were promptly out of bed for P/T and drilling sessions.’7 The training in military instruction would last approximately two months, ending with an oral and written examination in military law and command abilities. It was expected that trainees would understand the role they had volunteered for, and be able to demonstrate comprehension of their military responsibilities in combat. Penny duly passed this examination, as did about 90 per cent of candidates, and could progress to the next stage of theoretical instruction. For stage two of the training process, learning the theory of flight and weaponry, Penny was sent to the aeronautical school at Oxford for a two-month course. Here he studied the science of flight, the workings of engines and machine-gunning. Building on the knowledge gained in stage one, of command structure and mutual responsibility, men were further induced to develop their military identity through a variety of methods in their daily study and leisure time. To aid his induction into the Flying Corps and to encourage the feeling of being a pilot, Penny was first issued with a uniform and recorded that ‘most of us were so optimistic about qualifying that from a well-known military tailor in Oxford we ordered new uniforms, Sam Browne belts and one star for our shoulder’.8 Pupils had to purchase their own kit, which required a monetary investment in their own training and reiterated their dedication to becoming an airman. In some cases, however, having already funded the flying certificate, the family would need to assist with the costs. ‘I have received my flying tunic from Folkestone and told them to send the bill to you but they have omitted to put a pair of RFC badges on it so do not be charged for them,’ trainee Dudley McKergow instructed his family.9 Costumes were an important aspect of military training, embodying both a sense of achievement in the elite status of the Royal Flying Corps, and recognition of loyalty to those also wearing the uniform. The introduction of appropriate dress at this stage was well placed; in stage one men had been given general instruction in military

Philpott_Chap01.indd 31

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

32

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

behaviour, but it was in stage two that the real business of flying was taught. Issuing uniforms at this point in the training process emphasized the combatants’ attachment to the RFC. Thus, as men were becoming familiar with their role in the service, they were also encouraged to feel pride in wearing the uniform. It was important for the RFC trainers to increase the recruits’ commitment and feelings of loyalty to those they would fight alongside. Issuing uniforms was the quickest and most visual method to promote commonality amongst recruits but this was reinforced by a number of group activities. Sports particularly were used to create a group mentality in leisure periods that would be valuable for the ample non-combat time on the Western Front. Penny, being stationed at an Oxford college, was delighted to see the rowing teams from his window. ‘We were privileged to be given the use of their boats for recreation and made up an eight from our own college and spent many enjoyable hours in this way,’ he reminisced.10 A Central Flying School training manual from this period recommended instructors focus on the health of their pupils and should keep your own liver and that of your pupils in order. Do so by exercise, if your pupils are slack, give them drill, and see it is carried out vigorously. Encourage and play all games conducive to health. If you keep fit, work hard and play hard, you will produce good pilots, which is the raison d’etre of your existence.11 Sports were a useful physical contrast to the theoretical courses in machinery which men studied in their second stage of training, giving them both a reason to form links with one another and an outlet for their energies ahead of the practical flying training to come. This phase was an intense period of learning as Dudley McKergow wrote, explaining that ‘to learn 7 different engines, 2 machine guns and a thousand other things is rather a tall order, in 9 weeks. However most fellows manage to pass.’12 With so much to cover, it was important for the Central Flying School to maintain the enthusiasm of its recruits and enforce their loyalty, hence the introduction of uniforms and games to create the valuable pride in the service. Having invested

Philpott_Chap01.indd 32

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

TR AINING

33

so much of their time and energy, men were eager to achieve the required standards in order to pass to the third and illustrious stage of training – flying. The last stage of a pilot’s training finally involved learning to fly aeroplanes. Flying Corps recruits were keen to get into the air as this had enticed them to enrol. Although previous stages had been concerned primarily with the creation of military identity and giving men a basic grounding in the business of flight, this stage was almost entirely practical, teaching them how to handle the aeroplane. This was the most important test of the individual’s potential ability in combat. The Central Flying School Training Manual from 1916 is one of the most crucial sources for understanding what was expected from trainee pilots. Teaching flying, the CFS advised, should be taken slowly by instructors to ensure competence. ‘When a pupil joins, the type of machine he is to learn to fly should be explained to him by his instructor,’ the CFS explained, and within seven days He should be ordered to make an accurate sketch of the machine, showing every wire &c ... . He should be flown several times round the Aerodrome to show him the use and effect of the various controls ... . Having done this, he should be allowed to take charge separately of the control lever and rudder, and then finally, a combination of both.13 Within a few weeks of practice, pilots would qualify for their wings. This stage would also consolidate the formative military identity that had been forged during the early courses. The aeroplane would be the pupil’s weapon and protection, and, as the Central Flying School suggested, pupils were encouraged to familiarize themselves with every aspect of the machinery that would, in battle, become an extension of themselves. At this stage, trainees would also come into contact with more senior servicemen, either as instructors or awaiting overseas postings, who initiated the new pilots into the professional culture of the Royal Flying Corps. This would begin to give the novice pilot some understanding of life on the front lines. As a result, Penny found his

Philpott_Chap01.indd 33

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

34

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

first experience of flight was ambushed by a seasoned pilot keen to amuse himself at a new recruit’s expense: Before leaving the ground he said he would take me up for ½ hour just to let me get the feel of the air. It was [a] rather ‘hairraising’ experience, for he performed all the aerobatics that the machine was capable of (not the sort of thing a good instructor should do with a new pupil). My reaction after landing was – perhaps I would have lived longer had I remained in the AIF. I discovered later that he was not an instructor but just a good pilot who wanted to try out a new machine! Once Penny recovered from the surprise, he noted that he was ‘allotted another instructor who continued my training and I began to enjoy flying’.14 Such rituals were considered an acceptable part of the initiation of men into the service culture of the Royal Flying Corps. Trainee John Ross endured a less savoury prank at an inconvenient moment: The lavatories were the worst contraption I have ever seen ... . For its use one had to sit on the horizontal pole ... the overseas posting men used this toilet too and some ... [of] the big heavy ones, would sit on the pole ... . At a given moment these heavy men would bounce the pole up and down as they sat down on it, with the result that the small boys with their feet off the ground lost their balance and fell backwards into the trench behind and below and became immersed in rich, messy, stinking manure.15 These rituals were an introduction to life in the RFC and contributed to their identity with the military life. Although the new recruits were at the lowest point in the hierarchy, both militarily and in terms of combat experience (always an important aspect of the RFC structure), students were taught to respect the experience and knowledge of their seniors. Penny was certainly impressed by the skills of his ‘instructor’ during his first flight, who demonstrated actions he would hope to emulate when eventually in combat.

Philpott_Chap01.indd 34

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

TR AINING

35

Yet these rituals also had another important function and acted as a badge of acceptance into the Royal Flying Corps by making the ‘victim’ a part of the elite body of pilots. Crucially, like sports, these practices created bonds of loyalty between men who would one day fight together. Teaching airmen how to handle themselves in combat was essential, but for the many hours between flights, they would coexist within a squadron structure, bond with their fellows and distract their thoughts from the tasks of war. These processes, therefore, were an introduction to the life to come.16 During the three stages of training, the RFC was responsible for equipping men with the means to fight and creating a cultural arena in which they could feel and act like servicemen. To graduate from the Central Flying School entailed a final flying examination in which the entrant ‘first had to fly solo in five figures of eight, this involving right and left-hands turns, and finally stop on landing within fifty yards of a given mark’, W. T. Blake recorded in his 1918 memoir. ‘He then has to ascend and repeat the performance; and finally, rising a third time to the height of over 350 feet, he must switch off his engine and to make a volplane or glide to earth,’ Blake noted.17 The total flying time required to pass in the first two years of war was approximately 15 hours. Trainee Mckergow also passed out of Hendon successfully, but not before enjoying an inspiring trip with a famed pioneer just before his final examination: ‘I took my ticket in record time’, he boasted to his mother in May 1917, taking ‘the final 5 figures of eight in 6 minutes, the second lot in 7 and the vol-plane in 4 minutes, making 17 minutes for the whole thing ... . I had the honour of going up with the great Claude Grahame-White himself last Thursday and he taught me quite a lot’.18 Licence thus obtained, the successful pilot would be posted to a Service Squadron where he could fly current service planes rather than the outdated ones used for training. From here, he would be seconded to an active squadron and sent to France to put his education into practice. The rapidity of the process meant that training had to provide men with everything they needed to perform as effective servicemen. Being able to fly aeroplanes was only one part of their life in combat. Therefore, the creation of military identity was a consistent aspect

Philpott_Chap01.indd 35

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

36

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

of the instruction of trainee pilots during the First World War, and was achieved during their training by a variety of subtle methods. The trainees were not overtly forced to form links to one other, but with the encouragement of sports and recreational activities, running alongside their formal training, these bonds were left to develop naturally amongst the trainees. It was an overwhelming task to turn a civilian into an effective fighting man in approximately six weeks and the question that remains is how effective was the Royal Flying Corps in training pilots to fight in the Great War?

Effectiveness of the RFC Training Programme The theory of Royal Flying Corps training, as outlined above, aimed to create a reasonable system that would provide recruits with the practical skills required to fly, and encourage commonality within the squadron. In the first months of the war, the infant RFC found it difficult to process the large number of recruits who required training. All effective men and machines had crossed the Channel with the BEF in August 1914, and this left training centres poorly resourced. ‘There were no trained instructors and our flying instructors were detailed to teach us subjects about which they knew little or nothing,’ Commander William Fry complained in his 1974 memoir, ‘so we did not gain much knowledge about navigation and other topics. Our one idea was that we were there to learn to fly and that the rest could come later.’19 The problem of adequate instruction was a continuing one for the RFC, as McKergow noted as late as 1917. ‘My instructor is useless,’ he complained to his mother, ‘I have just been up with him for fifteen minutes and he will not let you have control at all ... . I learnt more in 12 minutes with another fellow than I have in an hour and ¾ with my present instructor. It [sic] absolutely waste of time.’20 The problem of instruction was due to the confusing use of civilian trainers from the pre-existing training centres, and of weary pilots recovering after service on the front line. Whilst civilians could teach a man to fly, they could not inculcate military values. In a letter to his mother in the spring of 1917, McKergow explained that he was learning to fly at the GraemeWhite school where ‘all the instructors are civilians. They take you

Philpott_Chap01.indd 36

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

TR AINING

37

extraordinarily steady at it and they have not had any body killed here yet, so that is more cheering.’21 To qualify for an Aero Club Certificate a pilot needed only to achieve five hours of flying, whereas the military standard in April 1917 was 17.5 hours, rising to an average of 48.5 hours per pilot by September 1917.22 Civilian tutors, hired by necessity, were unable to provide the detailed instruction required and lacked the experience to advise on war flying. Although veteran pilots could speak with authority on combat conditions, they also provided inconsistent instruction. Unfortunately for trainees, the RFC used serving pilots not to capitalize on their greater knowledge and experience of combat flying, but to ensure the continuing value of the veteran-trainer as an efficient fighter. William Fry, himself an instructor in 1917, explained that being seconded to training duties was relatively uninteresting. Veteran-instructors only wanted to return to their squadron as quickly as possible and continue their real war work. ‘There was not [a] set procedure for instruction: assistant instructors like myself were allotted a number of pupils and left to teach them in our own way,’ he revealed, but as a professional fighter, ‘the daily routine of instructing and the stricter discipline of a home station soon began to pall and after a month or so several of us put in applications to return to France.’23 The limitations of teaching were frustrating to experienced servicemen used to the conditions of combat and the company of the men with whom they shared strong loyalties. Veteran-instructors were therefore eager to pass the time as quickly as possible before they returned to proper fighting. To the detriment of their pupils, they often gave the minimum effort required. Geoffrey Wall, a veteran-instructor at Netharavon, explained his daily routine in a letter to his father in July 1917: Here the Powers that Are make a fetish of ‘time’. As long as you are putting in more hours than the other squadron, all is well, so I oblige them, and at the same time earn immense popularity among the pupils by going behind the nearest hill and sitting down for half an hour or so. If any too inquisitive aeroplane comes along, I am always discovered looking for an oily plug or a choked jet. Most of the instructors do this more or less.24

Philpott_Chap01.indd 37

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

38

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

In three years of war, the RFC failed to develop a system of consistent instruction and could not guarantee the quality of graduate pilots. Those charged with their training were civilians, with little military knowledge, or experienced airmen more concerned with their own war progress than the effectiveness of their pupils. Understandably, veteraninstructors would prefer to be killed in action than at the hands of an inept student. This inconsistent training meant that new pilots assigned to duties at the front were in some cases a liability to their squadrons.25 Ineffective servicemen were a costly problem for the Royal Flying Corps. With the shortage of men and limited machines, the air service could not afford to lose either. Accidents resulting in damage to machines were common amongst trainee and newly-qualified pilots, which stretched resources even further. Some local ladies rescued Philip Brereton Townsend when his plane caught a tree and smashed during a flight in Britain: Concussed and still in my cockpit I must have passed out for a minute or two, recovering to hear a voice saying ‘Are you alright?’ Regaining my senses I realised that two ladies were alongside the wreckage and in no-time they helped me out, led me to their nearby home – a beautiful farmhouse – where I rested for about two hours after having been given a tot of brandy. By this time it was about noon and Mrs Bate and her two daughters kindly gave me a light luncheon ... . Round about 18.00 hours the breakdown vehicle with the salvage crew arrived at the farm but unable to complete the salvage that day the crew was accommodated in the barn, sleeping in the hay. I was gracefully given a nice bedroom.26 Such generosity was far less likely on the Western Front where accidents were rather more costly. Here the risk of fatalities were much higher, historian Jay Winter explained, with approximately one Royal Flying Corps officer in six being killed during the war, compared to one in seven in the army and one in 20 in the navy.27 The dangers faced by pilots were immense, but their training programme was not detailed enough nor entirely adequate for some

Philpott_Chap01.indd 38

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

TR AINING

39

airmen to protect themselves in flight. Various accidents were reported in France, including those by Lieutenant Walter Porkess, one of the unluckiest pilots 12th Squadron had ever received. In his first eight days of service he crashed twice: 18th June 1916 – First flight for practice landings crashed on high banking aerodrome smashed tail + 2 longarons. 20th June 1916 – Second Flight caught tree on take off after over judgement on first landing. Engine choked flying speed was not fully obtained. Information from C/O Major Hallahan that I would have to return to England for further instruction. On 26 June, Porkess was returned to Britain for more training, but this was not the last of his misfortunes. Returning to France in August 1916 to join 10th Squadron, Porkess crashed three more times: 3rd August 1916 – First trip over lines, 10,000 BE26 2610. Made dud landing & twisted fuselage and instructed to do more landings. 22nd September 1916 – Had been up for 3½ hours doing registration with 31st Div Centre and on returning to aerodrome just about 500 yards outside of aerodrome tried to open engine – but it would not pick up. So had to land in a ploughed field just outside. Zoomed over ditch and pancaked in plough, bent axle and plane skies. 23rd September 1916 – Just leaving aerodrome for registration over lines and was only 30ft up when engine cut right out. Tried to land in ploughed field straight in front bounded by road and 2 ditches. Only sufficient speed to get over first ditch and road and so wheels caught on bank of 2nd ditch & pitched machine on its nose and broke the propeller undercarriage & left bottom wing was also smashed ... . Machine (2610) was rebuilt.28 These accidents were a reflection of the inherent problems of the RFC’s training programme. With a minimum number of flying hours required before men were qualified to join a service squadron and a

Philpott_Chap01.indd 39

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

40

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

lack of dedicated instruction, the quality of pilots produced and their preparedness for war was questionable. With only the most basic flying knowledge, men had to learn from their squadrons who bore the brunt of accidents and mistakes in the first few months. Senior officers of the Royal Flying Corps were aware of and responsive to these problems. Major Robert Smith Barry was charged with reforming the training programme. Official Historian H. A. Jones felt that procedure in ‘the Royal Flying Corps was severely handicapped by the War Office policy, which was based on the assumption that the war would probably be of short duration.’ Consequently, there was little initial investment in the future of the air service, and ad hoc amenities meant they had to rely on civilian instructors and their facilities to help them train the influx of new pilots. The problem of inconsistent instruction was one that the Air Ministry could not address during the Great War, but several attempts were made to improve the quality of pilots in the middle years of the conflict. Major Robert Smith Barry learned to fly in 1911, before the Royal Flying Corps was formed, and volunteered for service in 1914. His war record against Zeppelins and in command of 60th Squadron earned him rapid promotion, and in 1917 he returned to England to establish a new training school at Gosport. ‘A large part of Smith Barry’s training philosophy was the necessity to teach every pilot not how to avoid dangerous situations,’ historian Peter Hart argued, ‘but how to get out of them with assurance and to build up the self-confidence they would need to throw the aircraft about the sky if they were in extremis.’29 The teaching at Gosport combined aerial practice with a theoretical base taught in the classroom, which gave trainees more confidence in the air. Civilian instructors shied away from allowing pupils too much control of the aircraft, as McKergow complained, but under Smith Barry’s Gosport regime, students were encouraged to learn by experience and to tackle dangerous manoeuvres and situations in the controlled training environment.30 They could then replicate these actions in combat. Fundamental reforms included increasing the practise time before a pilot could qualify, which by December 1916 was between 20 and 28 hours. Biographer Andrew Boyle showed how Smith Barry introduced

Philpott_Chap01.indd 40

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

TR AINING

41

a stricter set of tests intended to demonstrate the variety of skills the pilot would require when in combat: They revolutionised the existing hit-or-miss system of tuition ... . With the object of applying first principles in the air and inculcating them by trial and error until they became second nature, he threw existing rules out of the window and taught his pupils ‘every possible manoeuvre including flying etc,’ by dual control. Original, unconventional but practicable, the Smith Barry technique grew into a uniform system which spread from Britain to other countries.31 The stages of training placed a stronger emphasis on the theoretical basis of flight and practising the reactions of the aeroplane in a variety of warlike situations. Vitally, instruction became more practical and relevant to the tasks pilots would perform. The effectiveness of the Royal Flying Corps training programme can be measured by these changes; not only did senior officers recognize that their original efforts were inadequate to meet the demands of their work, but they based the changes on their direct experience of combat. The RFC was slow to develop and lacked the resources to do so immediately, but can be said to have been ‘proactive’ in the development of the training programme. Responding to the need for change, the senior officers of the RFC combined both their experience of war and the changing role of airmen to develop a suitable, progressive training programme. The RFC did not just teach civilians how to fly, but taught them how to be pilots, with all the skills and knowledge necessary to act effectively in combat.

Royal Navy Training Unlike the RFC, the Royal Navy was perceived as a career for life, where men were taught not just the practical attributes of shipping but given a set of values by which to conduct their lives. Above all it was training in character. Boys as young as 12 years old were taken from their families and taught the value of discipline and pride in service

Philpott_Chap01.indd 41

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

42

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

that would make them successful seamen. Like the Flying Corps, the navy had a three-stage training programme for their young recruits. First, boys were sent to Osborne House on the Isle of Wight for two years, followed by a further two years at Dartmouth Naval College, then finally a six-month placement on the training ships Cornwall and Cumberland. At the start of the conflict, the navy did not need extra recruits because its structure meant they could quickly be ready for war. Therefore, the majority of men in the service had been trained using the traditional system. Unlike its aerial counterpart, the naval programme openly acknowledged its wider purpose as a tool to create gentlemen officers – fighting men with the refinements of society. ‘What is the ultimate object of naval education and training?’ Sir H.W. Richmond asked, and if ‘it is to produce a fighting sea officer ... . He must be a seaman, having all those arts which are summed up in that word ... at his finger’s ends.’ The true purpose of naval education was the man it created and learning how to manage a crew and sail effectively was merely a fraction of the ideal type. ‘He has to learn the real meaning of discipline and subordination, what it is, why it is needed, how it is developed and how grossly it may be misused by bad officers,’ Richmond asserted: It is insufficient to imbue him with pride in past achievements of the Navy, if he is not taught at the same time that it rests with him to repeat those achievements, and this can only be done by a life of self-abnegation, industry and devotion equal to that of the great men of the past. He should know that to read and know about Nelson, to wear his portrait on his cabin wall is the shabbiest insult to the hero’s memory if no effort is made to master and apply the lessons which the careers of Nelson and his like furnish.32 In this view, the training of naval officers was designed to inspire the next generation of national heroes; every man was a potential Nelson in the making. This attitude filtered through the training programme, encouraging discipline and duty in recruits at all three stages of their induction into the service. Like the Central Flying School Manual for

Philpott_Chap01.indd 42

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

TR AINING

43

the RFC, Richmond’s book was a blueprint for naval training, demonstrating the many characteristics the perfect naval officer was required to incarnate. During the first stage of naval training, 12- and 13-year-old boys were introduced to the discipline they would require to be successful officers. The creation of a solid naval identity was vital to maintaining discipline in the boys. Given their youth compared to recruits in other services, it was necessary to teach them to subordinate their personal needs to the larger good. Young cadet Victor Hayward quickly found that any illusions he harboured were shattered. ‘I got a rude awakening and the excitement of the day was very much on the wane,’ he complained, ‘I was really frightened. Wham! The officialdom of the Navy clamped down on us with an iron hand. Harsh, barking orders ... . It seemed like a fantastic nightmare.’ There was no respite for Hayward who then found that the ‘next morning at the crack of dawn, I was rudely awakened by the raucous voice of some huge petty officer “calling the hands”... my day had started with a vengeance.’33 The routine was intended to be tough, as Richmond stated, teaching the boys the ‘real meaning of discipline and subordination’.34 Recruits were woken at 5:30 a.m. to wash with 16 others in cold water from the mess-tubs. At 6 a.m., ship cleaning began, much to the chagrin of Hayward: We used to have to line up two deep in bare feet, with our trousers rolled up well passed [sic] the knees. We would collect two sandstone blocks, one for each hand ... and kneel in two ranks ... we would slowly advance, rubbing the square stone blocks on the wet decks to clean away the previous day’s dirt. We would take about an hour to complete the ‘upper floor’... . Lastly with the aid of rope swabs, the deck would be dried. This job caused many of my classmates, including myself, to get an attack of housemaid’s knee; the cap of our limbs were swollen like great billiard balls.35 Captains were concerned with appearance and believed that cleanliness meant efficiency. The constant cleaning taught the boys the value

Philpott_Chap01.indd 43

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

44

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

of order, and suggested they should take pride in the physical appearance of the ship. These tasks introduced them to the professional culture of the service, teaching them how they would be expected to live during their career. Simultaneously, they would be reminded of their place in the large hierarchy of the navy, which some could slowly ascend. In addition to learning the professional culture of the navy, recruits would also spend their days in seamanship classes, learning the theoretical and practical aspects of navigation. ‘Under the former heading,’ Sir H. W. Richmond explained, comes instruction in the ‘tides, of magnetism as applied to the compass, of stability ... the rules of the road and the basic principles of the organisation of the ship’s company.’ Practical lessons included the use of instruments, signalling and the mechanical workings of the ship. A professional sailor would become a success only ‘through constant familiarity with responsibility in charge of the decks’, Richmond continued, so that ‘[he] feels at home on the bridge in any circumstances, and instinctively knows what to do and how to do it in all multitudinous situations in which a seaman may find himself’.36 The first stage of training, therefore, was designed to instil discipline and respect for naval hierarchy through the strict routines and physical labour, but also to ensure that naval codes and practices became second nature. Like the RFC, the navy needed to rapidly create identity and loyalty to ensure the recruits became a working part of the service. Yet naval instruction was a much longer process, and after two years at Osborne the young trainees, already grounded in the fundamental principles and routines of naval life, would have moved to Dartmouth. The training received between the ages of 15 and 17 was consistent with what had come before – physical drill, seamanship and boat work for eight hours every day – but boys could employ their free time more independently. By this stage, boys had been inducted into the navy and felt part of the service. This stage reinforced the loyalties they were developing with their fellow apprentices. At Dartmouth, sports and team games were encouraged to build bonds of loyalty between the trainees and teach them about teamwork, a skill which would be transferred to ship management later in their career. ‘Work over, the cadets were free to land in the extensive playing fields,’ C. L. Kerr

Philpott_Chap01.indd 44

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

TR AINING

45

noted in his 1939 memoir, and ‘in order to encourage boat management we had, for the asking, the use of quite a flotilla of gigs, skiffs and sailing boats.’37 Like the Royal Flying Corps, sailors were encouraged to participate in team activities as an outlet for their energies and as a useful tool for creating military identity. Through healthy competition, boys were able to measure themselves against one another and ascertain their position in the team structure. The Navy wanted to create effective fighting officers and men competed for promotion in order to reach the few coveted positions at the top of the hierarchy. In terms of the wider service, the Royal Navy had a prestigious reputation as a successful aggressor. To maintain its place as the elite seafaring service, it also wanted to replicate that aggression in its young officers. The regularity of sporting competitions at Dartmouth aided the introduction of those principles into the education of recruits. Douglas King-Harman wrote often to his mother, detailing his sporting prowess: 26 January 1905 – Last Tuesday we played a hockey match against the cadet-captains, and Drake lost 2 goals to 1. I was playing forward and had a very good game and not a few bruises. I am going in for hockey more than footer this term ... . Our first XI played a match against Eartmann’s yesterday, on their ground, and though they were a much heavier team than ours, we licked them 10 to 0. 19 February 1905 – Yesterday our soccer 1st XI played a match here, and we won easily by 14 goals to nil. Six of the 1st XI are in our term. It was raining hard during the match, but there were crowds of chaps watching it. 28 May 1905 – Yesterday afternoon our dormitory played the other dormitory of our term ... [I] was captain of our second [XI]. We did splendidly in the first XI match ... . In the second match, we were beaten hopelessly by 123 to 169 ... . I stayed on till the last wicket but one, having made only 21 in over an hour’s batting.38 Hockey, football and cricket featured largely in a cadet’s education, as King-Harman’s letters demonstrate, and boys were encouraged to

Philpott_Chap01.indd 45

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

46

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

watch, participate and, where possible, to lead teams. ‘The perfect officer,’ Sir H. W. Richmond asserted, ‘must know how to command the respect of his subordinates and must therefore have a high sense of honour and duty. He must have a cultivated judgement and a character which does not shirk from responsibility.’39 Sport offered opportunities for trainees to experience both leadership and competition, and to develop their skills as effective officers. For the final part of their education, the recruits were sent to training ships and given the chance to practice the many skills they had learned during their four years in the navy. Once again, this aspect of training has parallels with the Royal Flying Corps system, as this would be the recruits’ first encounter with experienced servicemen, keen to induct the new arrivals into the professional culture of the navy at sea, as Frank Layard recalled: Shortly after our arrival in Indomitable we were ‘christened,’ one by one we had to kneel in front of the Sub with a ship’s biscuit balanced on our heads and singing the christening hymn, ‘Lord of Power and Lord of might at this festival tonight.’ We reached the line ‘Till the hand of grace comes down’ the Sub brought his fist down with a tremendous bang breaking the biscuit and nearly knocking you out in the process. Layard also recalled another ceremony in which his Commander James Moreton ordered him to perform a ‘capstan drill’. This involved ‘jumping down from the capstan with stiff legs and heavy on our heels. The spine jolting performance was said to be a sure way to make our voices break. It had no effect whatsoever.’ Contact with professional servicemen also introduced recruits to the less savoury practices of men at sea. ‘We were taught all the bawdy gunroom songs and jokes,’ Layard boasted, ‘and we learned to drink, sometimes to excess and to smoke.’40 For Stephen King Hall the introduction to naval vices during his time at Portsmouth was excessive and ‘in the evenings the chief diversions were smashing lamps on Southsea Common, drinking beer with tarts on the pier or causing an uproar at the local musical.’41 Such rites were an accepted part of naval life that typified the frustrations

Philpott_Chap01.indd 46

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

TR AINING

47

of men confined to ships for much of the year. Life in the navy was quite unlike that experienced by any other military service as hundreds of men were crammed together for weeks or months at a time, usually without being engaged in battle. Men developed distractions from the hard daily routine, which explained their excesses in leisure time. Exposing the trainees to these activities in the final placement showed them the true nature of naval life. Like flying training, it gave them practical preparation for the life to come. Training did not end when the newly-qualified sailor left the training ships but continued informally throughout his career. The training of sailors was grounded in a clear theory of educated gentlemen, expounded by Richmond, and there was a strong idea of the type of man they wished to produce. ‘Commissioned rank was traditionally the expression of confirmation of social status,’ argued historian Martin Petter, whereby ‘the fact that one was an officer made it possible to assume one was also a gentleman.’42 The four-and-a-half year training programme was substantial by comparison with the three months offered by the Royal Flying Corps. During that time, the navy took children from the age of 12 and turned them into men steeped in the theory and history of their service, and fully cognizant of the intricate aspects of command. The most talented officers would continue their education and development. ‘This high part of an officer’s training must be a never ceasing process throughout his life,’ Richmond affirmed, and ‘it is he alone who can teach himself ... . The education of an officer begins when he enters the Navy. It does not end till he retires.’ As Richmond rightly asserts, ‘it is only by practical work that any one becomes anything more than an amateur in any profession.’43 Training in the Royal Navy was designed to create a career officer, a man who would devote his life to his service, live by its rules, conduct himself in an orderly fashion and continue his instruction throughout his working life, for the glory and honour of the Royal Navy.

Effectiveness of the Naval Training Programme The naval training programme was a very long, intense experience that conditioned naval officers before they reached adulthood. The

Philpott_Chap01.indd 47

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

48

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

teaching was rooted in the traditions of the service and with the belief that these methods had created the great heroes of the past. In the early twentieth century, however, the nature of warfare was changing for all three services. New weapons and technologies challenged the established order but, unlike the RFC, the naval training programme failed to reflect the changing conflict environment. Men were encouraged to use known strategic plans in battle and to look to senior officers for inspiration. This created a number of problems during the Great War which were recognised by official historian Arthur Marder: The number of officers of flag rank who failed in some respect during the war was high ... there was no system of weeding out unfit Admirals ... . There was an extreme reluctance to remove men who had failed, whether from consideration of friendship, the natural distaste for sacking or transferring such an officer, or the fear that this would hurt fleet morale ... . Another obstacle to getting the best qualified officer into a particular job was the prejudice in the Navy generally and certainly at the Admiralty against independent thought ... . Officers who expressed independent or unorthodox opinions were viewed with suspicion by Authority ... . Indeed, intellect itself was suspect, and ‘character’ and gallantry were valued far above it ... . One of the curses of the service with deep roots was ‘senior officer veneration’: that is blind obedience to, and blind confidence in, a superior ... . The young men learned to treat everything said by their superior officers as the gospel truth.44 The naval training programme taught sailors the value of hierarchy and to obey all orders from above them. In practice this meant, as Marder showed, that initiative was quashed and men were expected to wait for orders before they could proceed. The centralization of power, contained within the Admiralty, prevented individual commanders from making tactical decisions in battle and caused loss of momentum. Most famously at the Battle of Jutland in 1916, the failure of officers to pursue the German ships meant the battle petered out and no decisive victory was possible.45

Philpott_Chap01.indd 48

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

TR AINING

49

Criticism can therefore be levelled at the navy for failing to respond to the changing climate of the twentieth century and acting ‘defensively’ in the production of traditional officers. By retaining its determined link with the past and teaching men to emulate the methods used by great heroes a hundred years before, the Royal Navy was blind to the technological challenges a new century had brought. The Navy’s defensive role in the First World War was therefore based on its defensive training policy. Whilst the fuller naval training programme provided a deep understanding of the Royal Navy and was suitable to instil discipline in its child-recruits, it offered little practical instruction in twentieth-century warfare. Although sailors were able to fulfil their role in the war, the navy, arguably, did not instigate hostile action or force Germany to fight openly. This ‘defensive’ reaction to war was the responsibility of the training programme that taught men to respect and await orders from their superiors and not to deviate from the commands given through the hierarchy. For men to act effectively in combat, they had to undergo a relevant training programme that prepared them for the roles they would assume in service. The fundamental purpose of instruction for all personnel was the creation of a military or naval identity, to encourage the pride and dedication that would give men the motivation to perform in battle. In the air service, men were taught the practical skills necessary to perform on the Western Front. They needed to know how to use their weapons and how to repair them. The aeroplane was an important weapon and pilots were taught its offensive and intelligencegathering functions. The Central Flying School, for all its failings, provided a training programme that reflected the work of the active pilot and prepared men for their postings to France. Whilst resources were stretched, it was a challenge to provide consistent instruction. The senior officers of the RFC sought to improve the quality of graduates throughout the war with a number of reforms, including increasing flying hours and improving the theoretical basis of training. With the practical flying knowledge to perform as pilots having been obtained, the production of military identity was encouraged informally, through sports and other group activities. The military

Philpott_Chap01.indd 49

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

50

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

importance of physical ability was a key concern after the Boer War where it was felt that the nation’s manhood was under threat and Britain risked being unable to perform effectively in a future war. However, nineteenth-century public schools had long associated sport with military behaviour, where, according to historian Colin Veicht, they taught ‘loyalty, consideration and selflessness ... . Organization of the games by the boys themselves encouraged responsibility and fostered their ability to lead by example and to obey with gentlemanly deference.’46 Games, it was felt, taught boys to subordinate their own will to that of the group, and developed the leadership skills necessary to encourage men into battle. The often-quoted poet Henry Newbolt also reflected this link in his nineteenth-century verses, including the famous Vitaï Lampada, which was used as propaganda in the Great War. Written in 1897, Newbolt used a cricket match to suggest that this was the place a soldier learned notions of military duty and especially the skill of endurance: This is the word that year by year, While in her place the school is set, Every one of her sons must hear, And none that hears it dare forget. This they all with a joyful mind Bear through life like a torch in flame, And falling fling to the host behind ‘Play up! Play up! And play the game!’47 Newbolt suggested that the training men received on the cricket pitch would be something they could call upon throughout their lives, and especially in their military careers. This was the value of sport as training, because it meant that ‘none that hears it dare forget’ and that boys would ‘with a joyful mind’ approach combat, knowing it was their duty to ‘Play up! Play Up! And play the game!’. Newbolt used this technique in a number of his poems, weaving notions of future war with amateur games of football and cricket played in schools.

Philpott_Chap01.indd 50

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

TR AINING

51

Notions of fair play had more than just a military purpose. Historian J. A Mangan felt that games engendered ‘less a moral ideal than a practical need. In the middle of the nineteenth century it served the most basic social functions – social cohesion ... . On and off the playing field.’48 In life as well as in combat, games taught civic responsibility and encouraged men to associate themselves with the idea of the state. ‘Team sports looked like a solution because, to win,’ Michael C. C Adams agreed, ‘the individual had to subordinate himself to the group ... . If civic character was the aim, then they were as good if not better than scholarship.’49 The educational value of team sports is still reported as having a beneficial effect on behaviour.50 With continued belief in the association of sport and behaviour, it is understandable that both the RFC and eventually the Royal Navy encouraged it within their training programmes. The value of physical health to the RFC was fundamental during the war because pilots’ motivation was seen as a combination of mind and body. ‘Physical fitness was the gospel of the RAF; it was the first quality,’ Official Historian Edgar Middleton explained, because the strain of flying had a significant effect on the body and the nerves. ‘Head, heart and lungs had to be flawless in this incessant struggle, when the merest slip meant sudden and awful death,’ he continued.51 To ensure men held their nerve in the air, they needed to be at the peak of their fitness, hence the emphasis on youth in recruitment. Yet they also had to believe in their affiliation to the service. Sport and games, as shown above, were synonymous with the hierarchy and group loyalty of military life and were therefore necessary to help men perform in combat. Through these competitions, they learnt loyalty, teamwork and rivalry, but more importantly they learnt to control these responses and direct them into their flight work. By contrast, the Royal Navy had a more inconsistent association with sport. Although team games were an essential part of the training system, some members of the Admiralty feared that the physical development encouraged by sport threatened the ruminative qualities required by good officers to consider strategy and planning. A report of the Osborne and Dartmouth Committee in May 1905 felt that in ‘regard to sports, My Lords desire that they should not take a position of

Philpott_Chap01.indd 51

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

52

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

exaggerated importance in the minds of the cadets.’52 More important to the navy was that the officer should be an educated gentleman, one versed in the strategy of war and its intellectual application. A report from 1913 on public school recruits emphasized the need to ‘teach the junior officer the principles of the art of the war as soon as he has finished the school part of his education and the professional training in material ... before reaching the rank of Lieutenant.’53 Whilst sport had some role to play in the development of the naval character, most of the training would come from the ship. The experience of war would alter that greater emphasis on intellectual pursuits and a Conference on Physical Training in the navy was held in 1919. ‘Experience gained during the war has shewn [sic] that the Physical Education of the nation at large is of the utmost importance’, the minutes reported, because the ‘hostilities only’ men who had less physical training had not been entirely prepared for the navy. This ‘demonstrated clearly that something more than mere Drill was necessary in order to produce the right type of disciplined man’, the conference concluded. Consequently, it was recommended that sailors form ‘The Navy Sports and Games Board’ to ‘encourage Recreational Clubs to be run by the men with every encouragement for Officers to join. These Clubs should be instituted in all Fleets, Stations and Ports.’ The Board would promote all athletic activities including boxing, wrestling, fencing, cricket, football, aquatics and boat pulling.54 Ultimately, the role of sport in forming and supporting military identity was recognized by both the RFC and Royal Navy. These activities, therefore, had three purposes; first, they gave trainees the physical strength to undertake their role and perform at the height of their fitness. Secondly, games created a theoretical basis for men to learn the nature of discipline, hierarchy and group identity, which they would transfer to their squadron or ship. Finally, as Newbolt acutely observed, it offered men a reserve to call upon during combat, and to be able to ‘play the game’ as bravely as they had on the cricket and football pitches of England. Ultimately, the Royal Flying Corps was most ‘offensive’ in the development of its training programme. It recognised the inherent flaws in its original systems, and made repeated attempts to improve the

Philpott_Chap01.indd 52

3/24/2013 10:30:42 PM

TR AINING

53

quality of graduates. The system was responsive to the staggering technological advances made by the air services during the conflict, including developments in weaponry, reconnaissance materials and tactical flying, all of which training pragmatically covered. Pilots had to learn a great deal at the front from the experienced airmen in their squadron. Although practice could not replicate battle conditions entirely, the military identity and motivation of pilots was more closely associated with their squadron. Fundamentally, therefore, the Royal Flying Corps was able to turn civilians into effective members of the service in a matter of weeks. The training programme was effective because it created group loyalties and taught the practical skills combatants required to be pilots. The effectiveness of the Royal Navy’s training programme is somewhat more complex than that of it’s aerial counterpart. The period of instruction was also far longer than any other military body, by the end of which it was hoped that the traditions and purpose of the service would have been ingrained in the men. Due to the navy’s less active role in the First World War, the training system proved adequate. Men were not tested in battle but did not rebel at the long periods of inactivity. The navy remained unengaged by the German High Seas Fleet and consequently, recognition of and response to the new demands of twentieth-century conflict within the training programme was almost entirely lacking. If Germany had possessed the means to pursue the submarine and similar aggressive technologies, the conflict could have been extremely challenging for the Royal Navy. Resistant to change and sceptical of development, the Admiralty dismissed the submarine and the aeroplane as toys for the rich, rather than crucial developments in twentieth-century weaponry.55 This blindness to the changing face of modern warfare had an impact on their training programme, which remained traditional and stiflingly hierarchical. In training therefore, commanders were not given the means to act offensively in battle, even when the opportunity presented itself, and orders continued to be centralized. Achievement was compared with the heroes of a hundred years before, as an alternative to perceiving what changes the future would bring and adapting methods accordingly. Unlike the RFC, the navy was less responsive

Philpott_Chap01.indd 53

3/24/2013 10:30:43 PM

54

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

to the developments in weaponry. Both programmes prepared men for their role in the Great War and gave them the various skills they would need to perform, the navy by default because it did not inspire action. Despite their differences, most of the pilots and sailors of the First World War continued to fight and maintained their motivation throughout the conflict. The true test of the training programmes was how effectively servicemen performed on active service and the next chapter examines the combat experience.

Philpott_Chap01.indd 54

3/24/2013 10:30:43 PM

CHAPTER 2 NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

Inaction was the primary experience of servicemen in the Great War. As the sophistication of weapons increased, the periods of combat were reduced. From the deployment of the long bow through the creation of the New Model Army to the atomic bomb, an increased efficiency of killing has been the result of advances in weaponry. On the eve of the First World War, nations were on the brink of employing several new weapons that would imperil people on an unprecedented scale. In the Great War, enhancements of pre-existing and new technologies meant ‘the circumstances and conditions of combat were ... completely transformed’, historians Stephane Audoin-Rouzea and Annette Becker explain. The ‘disparity between the methods of killing and methods of self-protection became overwhelmingly disproportionate’, they continued, and ‘escaping the onslaught became a mere matter of chance’.1 Twentieth-century warfare was also characterised by a blurring of the distinction between those who had chosen to participate in conflict and the millions more who by an accident of nationality inhabited the same piece of land. Yet the pilots and sailors of the Great War spent the majority of their time not in combat and this required a different level of courage. This chapter is concerned with the motivation of men whose role in war, contrary to their expectations, left them mostly in non-combative situations. Understanding service motivation in the Great War is central to comprehending the nature of warfare. Historians such as John Keegan,

Philpott_Chap02.indd 55

3/24/2013 10:31:07 PM

56

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Joanna Bourke and Stephane Audoin-Rouzeau have gone further than any other historians in exploring the deep complexity of the infantryman at war, who was simultaneously a combat-killer and a man who combed his hair, paid his bills and played Sunday football. By returning the human aspect to soldiers’ experience of warfare, they have brought us closer to fully understanding what motivates men to fight and why they continue to do so, even when some had repeatedly committed the most savage acts in the pursuit of victory. This chapter seeks to apply this understanding to the rather different worlds of pilots and sailors whose roles required them to kill, to face death and predominantly to cope with extended periods of inaction. This chapter has three sections; the first explores the meaning of courage in the twentieth century, what it is, and its role in helping soldiers sustain their commitment to war. Second, it examines the factors that threaten motivation, including the requirement to kill, the possibility of death and responding to poor leadership. In each case, the ways in which combatants overcame their fears, coped with their actions and maintained their motivation are considered. Finally, the chapter examines those aspects of service life designed to support and enhance motivation, including leisure facilities, service pride and the bonds of comradeship. Fundamentally, this chapter shows that men in both the navy and the Flying Corps, in spite of their differences and the long periods of inaction, were able to maintain their belief that the war had to be won.

Courage ‘Military commanders have for centuries been obliged to deal with problems of motivation,’ argued theorist John Taylor. Encouraging men to fulfil a combative role ‘for which material reward is negligible, and the penalty for becoming a casualty is ghastly’, is a constant concern, he argued.2 Identifying courage and knowing how to promote it was a problem for service authorities, especially in the Great War, when combatants faced weapons that could destroy on a greater scale than ever before. This was especially pertinent to airmen and submariners in particular, who were exploring brand new forms of combat.

Philpott_Chap02.indd 56

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

57

Most modern theorists agree that courage is individual but is closely associated with a number of other attributes and activities that encourage performance. Whilst ‘courageous acts often involve a connection to the world’, argues Katherine Platt, ‘courageous actions begin and end with the self’. However, she continued, people are not innately courageous, nor is courage a personality trait, but an action that can be ‘enhanced and developed through practice’.3 For John Taylor, in his work on American Civil War soldiers, the ‘virtue’ of courage is also separated from regular bravery by its association with the inner self, and the ‘element of endurance’ that it often suggests.4 Courage has many different forms and the types of courage employed, according to William Miller, would depend on the combat situation. For example, he writes, there is a clear distinction between the courage necessary for action and that necessary for defence. ‘The courage of aggression, the courage of offense, for instance, makes very different behavioural and psychological demands from the courage of defense [sic].’5 This is especially relevant to the changing roles of the RFC and navy in this conflict where inaction dominated their experiences. Given that ‘courage of defense [sic] demands a different mix of virtues and talents from courage of offense’, it is feasible, as Miller argues, that there would be servicemen who could cope with resistance, but baulk from attack.6 An added dimension in the explanation of courage is the separation between what Richard Holmes has termed ‘moral’ and ‘physical’ courage.7 People are driven, then, not just by their ability to face action, but, according to Miller, by ‘the capacity to overcome the fear of shame and humiliation in order to admit one’s mistakes. ... It is a frequent theme among soldiers ... [that it is] easier to be shot at than to be laughed at and scorned.’8 Physical courage was easier than moral courage. In this way, therefore, courage becomes synonymous with manly behaviour. As Miller has shown, courage is traditionally associated with male traits, as ‘the word for courage in many languages deriving from the word for man’.9 Contemporary theorists in the First World War, concentrating on physical courage, believed that men could be brought to engage in battle through notions of manliness. Training regimes were structured around these concepts to prepare men for an ‘experience

Philpott_Chap02.indd 57

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

58

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

very different from that of any form of civilian life’, psychologist W. H. Rivers explained.10 Manliness was an inherent part of life on active service, which sought to suppress individuality and enable men to function as an interdependent unit. Army doctors provided the most significant discussion of courage in their writings on the causes of shell-shock. The fundamental role of medical services during the First World War was to somehow return men to combat, whether their wounds were physical or emotional. To do so, they needed to understand what drove men to fight, and what kept them there. ‘The influence of emotional conditions in war psychosis is a complex and difficult problem,’ psychologist H. C. Marr wrote in 1919. ‘[I]n the great majority of the soldiers, the evil results are balanced fortunately by the influence of other emotions, those higher moral qualities which stimulate, sustain and strengthen the mind.’11 Marr was suggesting that the sustenance of fighting men rested on a complex interplay of factors, but fundamentally derived from the depth of their courage. A combatant, Rivers explained, should ‘act in harmony with his fellows ... to enable him to withstand the stresses and trials of warfare.’12 It was this that would boost their courage and return them to the front if they suffered a breakdown. Moral courage, however, can be seen in G. Elliot Smith and T. H. Pear, writing about shell-shocked patients in 1917. They recorded soldiers’ willingness to return to the front before recovery was complete, because men felt compelled to participate. It was ‘not uncommon’, they wrote, ‘for patients to ask to be sent back to duty because they feel that they have been too long with nothing to do, while it is quite obvious ... they are as yet unfit to bear any great strain.’13 The fear of failure, of abandoning their colleagues, made patients wish for a speedy return to the war. This is also applicable to RFC pilots assigned to training duties, discussed in the previous chapter, who were eager to return to what they saw as their real duties in France and Belgium.14 Contemporary medics believed that courage was the product of duty and masculinity. Those who broke down were seen as feminine or cowardly, lacking the ‘moral fibre’ to be a man. Contemporaries, according to T. H. E. Travers, felt that the problems of morale, therefore, rested with the man and not with ‘external forces, such as technology, or a

Philpott_Chap02.indd 58

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

59

real change in tactics’.15 The prevalent feeling at this time was that ‘normal’ men could and would kill because they were tough and any men shirking that responsibility would have a negative effect on the morale of their unit. By the Second World War, theorists gave greater prominence to moral courage and external factors affecting their understanding of why men fought. In particular, individual confidence, strong leadership and national sentiment were seen as the primary motivators. ‘Personal morale,’ according to sociologist Delbert Miller, ‘may be defined as the confidence held by the individual in his ability to cope with the future.’16 Several sociologists associated service motivation with the ability to subordinate the self for the greater good, either nationally, or within each service. Read Bain, writing in Social Forces in 1943, explained that the ‘measure of a man’s morale is the sacrifice he will make to preserve his personal integrity which is correlate of his group identity.’ By this definition, courage was closely related to the collective mood. ‘Morale is self-respect,’ Bain continued, which is ‘derived from the respect one gets from others and gives to them ... it is a sense of duty to preserve and promote values which transcend immediate personal pleasures, profit and reputation.’17 J. Glenn Gray, a Second World War veteran and theorist, examined that relationship between courage and camaraderie. ‘Numberless soldiers have died, more or less willingly ... because they realized that by fleeing their post and rescuing themselves, they would expose their companions to greater danger,’ he wrote, and such ‘loyalty to the group is the essence of fighting morale.’18 The fear of letting comrades down or shirking responsibility was a significant motivator. The ‘powerful bonds’ formed between men meant ‘the guilt and trauma associated with failing to fully support men who are bonded with friendship and camaraderie on this magnitude is profoundly intense’, Dave Grossman argued. Writing about the Vietnam War, Grossman’s explanation is applicable to the First World War as it contributes to the understanding of comradely bonds. This concept of moral courage was further enhanced by strong leadership. In their study of companies, Hamblin, Miller and Wiggins argued that ‘if the leader, the member of the organization with the most decision-making authority, is less competent than other members, then morale will be low, whereas if

Philpott_Chap02.indd 59

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

60

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

he is more competent, morale will be high.’19 Both Second World War and Vietnam War theorists agree that moral courage was enhanced by belief in one’s leaders. Modern historians like Tony Ashworth highlighted the limited periods of activity in the Great War to show that men were not permanently in combat. In doing so, attention has turned to how men coped with periods of inactivity as well as combat. The courage of offence and defence described by Miller took on a third strand worthy of study, the courage of endurance. ‘Even in this greatly dehumanised war, some areas managed precariously to escape the intensification of combat,’ Stephane Audoin-Rouzeau and Annette Becker explained. In the Great War, they conclude, ‘moments of strong tension were broken up by long periods during which the ever-present front line risks became more diffuse.’20 Unaffected by the immediacy of war, historians’ attention has refocused on the preparatory value of training and ideas of manliness in sustaining courage. In order to boost the courage of servicemen, Edgar Jones argued that training was most effective in preparing men for the field. Even in quiet periods, the earlier experience of training and the routines engrained during that time helped to support the men.21 Jones showed that training gave men confidence, encouraging them to trust their chain of command. Consequently, as Jay Winter argued, ‘morale broke down when men lost their belief that the war could be won in the way it was being fought’,22 meaning when they lost confidence in their leaders. Masculine ideals were able to sustain men during fighting and inactive periods according to contemporary historians. George L. Mosse has argued that in the Second World War ‘most volunteers considered the war a test of their manhood ... . [M]anliness meant to do one’s duty, to meet the demands made by any given situation, and to take the measure of the enemy.’23 Those given situations were not necessarily ones associated with fighting but the same code could be used to repress fear during any military duties a soldier was called upon to perform. Richard Holmes highlighted the synonymity of manliness with the ideas of honour and duty, as a means to control the fears of participants. It was better for men to kill and retain the respect of their comrades rather than flee, risk shame and be considered cowardly.

Philpott_Chap02.indd 60

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

61

Manliness and one of its primary components, the courage to do one’s duty, contributed to self-belief. Many servicemen were proud to embody masculine characteristics. ‘The young man in the Army becomes independent in many ways,’ psychoanalyst Therese Benedick argued, because he ‘is earning his own living, he is far away from the family, and if he is good in his work, he achieves an independence through his success.’24 Sport especially fostered group loyalties on the one hand, but they also encouraged men to develop traits considered to be masculine such as leadership skills and to practise the application of courage in competitive situations. Joanna Bourke has discussed the military styling of male recreational clubs such as the scouts and the Boy’s Brigade in the early twentieth century. The latter made a clear distinction ‘between the form of militarism that was the “vile product of Prussianism” and the “inculcation of the military spirit which stood for manliness, discipline, obedience, and the readiness to die for the country”’.25 For J. A. Mangan, the public school ‘games-field [were] the heart of the curriculum, the source of masculine virtue and the instrument of Imperial domination.’26 Manly characteristics linked to courage had long associations in British society before the First World War, but were utilized by the services to impel men to use their physical and moral courage. The combat experience of infantry, which has dominated historians’ interest in the First World War, was very different from that of men in both the Royal Flying Corps and Royal Navy, but the application of courage was similar. For the Royal Flying Corps, that experience was initially of reconnaissance, as their reports and photographs were used to direct the offensive policy of the Army. Pilots had minimal contact with the enemy and very few opportunities to engage them early in the war. But as aerial technology became increasingly sophisticated, aerial combat was regularly witnessed in the sky over the Western Front, and pilots were asked to drop bombs on military and civilian targets. Meanwhile, the navy successfully blockaded German trade routes and resisted the few covert attempts by the enemy to break the stalemate However, the Royal Navy’s role in the Great War was essentially defensive. Despite a few minor skirmishes and one indecisive major battle at Jutland in 1916, the navy was never able to claim absolute victory

Philpott_Chap02.indd 61

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

62

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

at sea and, at times, seemed almost resistant to the application of their technological advantage to modern warfare. By 1918, the Royal Navy and the Royal Flying Corps arguably had little in common except that they were fighting the same war. Irrespective of service, the key motivators for men throughout the war were similar. The remainder of this chapter explores the experience of war for pilots and sailors, and how their courage was maintained in action and endurance.

Coping with Action: Killing This section examines the aspects of conflict which may have undermined the motivation to serve of pilots and sailors. To understand how men dealt with such challenges to their motivation it considers first the problems of active combat – killing, fear of death and poor leadership. This is followed by the frustrations of inaction and contemporary concerns that men lacked the necessary ‘moral fibre’ to perform effectively. Initially, therefore, it is necessary to examine how men coped with their relatively brief time in action, and the techniques used to overcome their fears of killing and death. Sailors fought each other at Dogger Bank, at Heligoland Blight, at Jutland and in covert forms of warfare, whilst pilots were regularly in action later in the war. Coping with the requirement to kill was not entirely covered by the training programme and institutional supports available, and presented a direct challenge to the men’s ability to endure. In both services, distancing language was used to separate the combatant from his actions. Fighting was referred to as ‘knocking them’ or being ‘in the thick of it’, Germans were ‘Huns’ and conducting the war fairly was ‘playing the game’. Fighting in a submarine at Heligoland Blight in 1914, Gordon Maxwell wrote of his distraction from battle: ‘Everyone was merry and we were singing ... . [W]e had not the slightest idea of the number of ships we were fighting; what they were, or how our own ship was getting on,’ he proclaimed, ‘[W]e might have been sinking for all we knew.’27 Eric Wheeler Bush also recalled the loss of a ship at Jutland, but not of the men within: We could see the shells explode as they struck her mercilessly. There was a brief pause, and then the whole ship went up in one

Philpott_Chap02.indd 62

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

63

tremendous explosion. Great clouds of brown smoke soared and billowed hundreds of feet into the air. We saw her foremast fall clear, and then followed some dark object, a boat perhaps, which somersaulted to a great height. When the smoke cleared, the ship was gone.28 His excitement evokes a fantastic scene, emblazoned on his memory, but by not mentioning the people on the ship, Wheeler Bush distanced himself from the reality of what he witnessed. By 1916 King-Harman was desperate to do his duty, writing animatedly about his involvement in the battle. ‘As the fleet drew out into line,’ he enthused in his memoir, ‘more and more of them came into action ... . an extraordinary and wonderful sight – the flames of their broadside was staggering and the general scene was like a regular picture battle.’ 29 Shortly after Jutland, King-Harman wrote an account of the battle for his parents in which the use of distancing language is evident: ‘there was the beast right enough,’ he noted on spotting a hostile submarine; ‘I got my gun on him in a second and got off three rounds.’30 Here a submarine became ‘the beast’ and bullets were ‘rounds’. Sailors already had a physical distance from their enemy, but their language also inserted an emotional distance from their actions. By contrast, because the enemy was more visible, the RFC had a greater requirement to dehumanize the enemy. The need to kill became an increasing priority for the RFC as the role of the pilot was diversified, and fighter pilots took their places alongside reconnaissance men, but the periods of action were not consistent. Men developed the distancing technique but still had limited, and sometimes inconclusive, contact with their opponents. Shortly before his death in 1918, James McCudden wrote of his shock at actually seeing his rival at close quarters. ‘I have always looked upon the German aeroplane as a machine that has got to be destroyed,’ he exclaimed. At ‘times when I have passed quite close to a Hun machine ... the thought often struck me: “By Jove! There is a man in it”... and I have been quite surprised,’ he laughed.31 Like McCudden, Balfour learned to ‘cultivate a detachment of mind which enabled one, not to overcome fear, but to separate oneself from it. Going into fight ... was something like going into a

Philpott_Chap02.indd 63

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

64

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

cold bath,’ he explained, ‘but once in the fight one became impersonal: some secondary person did the right thing at the right time.’32 Men rarely discussed the act of killing in any detail during or after the war. In both wartime writings and memoirs, the words used to describe all aspects of killing are suggestive rather than explicit; aerial battles were referred to as ‘shows’, the enemy as a ‘Boche’ and anti-aircraft fire as ‘Archie’. By denying the truth of what they were doing, men were able to keep going. H. G. Downing wrote saying that his ‘Squadron is doing pretty well and we have bagged quite a lot of Huns lately ... . Still I must admit there is a lot of fun in it.’33 Many pilots enjoyed combat and were able to focus on the ‘fun’ aspects of their work. ‘By virtue of living on the surface, by turning our faces away and refusing to acknowledge death ... we were able to sit down and enjoy a good breakfast,’ Squadron Leader R. J. O. Compston wrote of his time with Royal Naval Air Service Naval 8. ‘How marvellously can the human mind adapt itself, how easily persuade itself that its course is right,’ he concluded.34 For men to maintain their courage and perform these acts, they took each day as it came. Similar to the technique of denial outlined above, this helped men to retain an emotional distance from the work they performed. ‘It was a case of collective self-respect,’ Balfour explained. It ‘was not for us to think of the whys and wherefores, but not to look very much further than the end of our noses whilst any task remained unfulfilled’, he concluded.35 The periods of killing were therefore not a consistent presence in the serviceman’s life, viewed instead as one of the many elements of their day. Carroll Dana Winslow elucidated his technique of concentrating on the present: It is strange how easily you become accustomed to being at the front ... . One day passes like another without special notice. Although daily something out of the ordinary is occurring somewhere along the Western Front ... . It is all in a day’s work.36 Part of that ‘day’s work’ also included contact with the enemy on occasions when they did not kill. On 23 March 1918, Major C. E. Dixon

Philpott_Chap02.indd 64

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

65

was ‘shot at by all my old Archie friends ... . Saw no Huns but put the wind up some troops.’37 This episode exemplifies the idea that men were not consistently required to kill. He spent his patrol being shot at by anti-aircraft fire and, when failing to find enemy airmen in the vicinity to attack, he used his ammunition to tease the ground troops. Whilst the business of killing became more important to the airman as the war progressed, not all confrontation with the enemy resulted in fighting. He did not intend to kill them, perhaps as they were not airmen and he did not feel it honourable to do so, but instead used them to relieve the frustrations of inaction.

Coping with Action: Death Yet each man in the service had to face the possibility that he might die, and knew that his death could come in any number of new ways and at times when he was not personally in combat. These methods of destruction – including mines, gas and air raids – multiplied, and to keep going, men had to harness their fears. Death in war had an unreal aspect for many. As theorist J. Glenn Gray observed, men ‘fall and die in such contorted and unnatural positions ... that even their comrades find it hard to believe that shortly before they were alive.’38 Arguably, therefore, it was more necessary for men to develop the methods to cope with death than with killing. The words with which men chose to express their experience of death are telling; they suggest a physical and psychological disassociation, not only at the point of action, but also afterwards, in the post-war world. Submariners experienced a greater possibility of death than most sailors, and that death could be a more gruesome experience. Kebel Chatterton, who destroyed German U-boats, explained that if his target was prevented from rising, water would flow in ‘all the time compressing the air, and those of the crew who had not already committed suicide suffered agonies’. Additionally, he wrote, seawater could mix with the batteries, causing ‘sulphuric acid generated chlorine, a very deadly gas, which asphyxiated the crew’.39 Yet living in a submarine could have a significant effect on all sailors’

Philpott_Chap02.indd 65

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

66

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

health. Lieutenant Commander G. P. Thompson, serving onboard E35, complained that: The chief handicap to the efficiency of the submarine seaman is his tendency to constipation induced by over-eating, lack of exercise and inadequacy of conveniences. Some boats had no WC at all. Relief [was] generally discouraged until the boat came to the surface at night and I have heard of cases where men went without relief for four or five days.40 The risks to the health and welfare of the men inside were so great that William Carr decided that ‘blind chance seems to have been the only governing factor in the life of the submariner’. Consequently, he continued, a third of men were killed serving in these underwater craft.41 Nearly 3,000 naval officers died in the Great War, but most of these casualties took place during campaigns in other theatres of war.42 As Jay Winter has shown, this amounted to a mortality rate of approximately 5 per cent – almost 10 per cent lower than officers in the army or airforce.43 Lieutenant Brian de Courcy recalled that of ‘the eighty-odd of my term who went to sea in January 1916, nearly a dozen and a half were dead, mostly killed when they were barely sixteen. We were not the only youngsters to suffer.’ 44 This was nothing like the death-toll experienced by other services. ‘There were sixty-six of us in the term,’ Lionel Dawson recalled, and of ‘these sixty-six names but three were killed in the Great War; and of these three only one, Murray Browne, was actually killed in service ... . I wonder how many of a contemporary list at Sandhurst survived even halfway through the War?’45 De Courcy and Dawson, writing many years after the Armistice, chose not to recall the exact sight or experience of men dying around them. Paul Nesham, in his account of Jutland, did the same in 1916: It put the fear of God into you at first to see these bluddy [sic] great shells falling all around – & the light was so bad for us ... .The bluddy awful sight of seeing our ships going up ... and

Philpott_Chap02.indd 66

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

67

seeing nothing but a few bits of wreckage and a man or two – poor devils ... . I never want to go through a night like that again – the most ghastly scene you can imagine.46 Avoiding those memories helped men to maintain their operational effectiveness during the conflict, and protect themselves from the memories later. Eric Wheeler Bush, who also saw a ship sink, recalled just the ‘one tremendous explosion [where] great clouds of brown smoke soared and billowed hundreds of feet into the air ... . When the smoke cleared, the ship was gone.’ 47 The swift disappearance of ships was also the focus of King-Harman’s account of the Tipperary, Arden and Fortune being ‘blown to bits’. Suddenly, he explained, ‘the place seemed full of guns, all going off! Shots were dropping and exploding all over and round us, the red flashes stabbed out all over the place.’ 48 Significantly, these accounts have no people in them, and instead focused on the sights and sensations of the machines sinking. Although Jutland was an inconclusive and confused engagement, ‘the next morning no one talked about the battle’, Midshipman Jack Lumby explained. The men having anticipated a great victory, only disappointment ensued for the sailors who were unable to force victory, so Lumby and his contemporaries ‘simply went back to our regular duties. I suppose Naval people of that time didn’t talk about things, whether in or out of battle, we simply got on with the job ... . [I]t gave us a framework.’ 49 Although they were eager for enemy contact, failure in battle did not dent the sailors’ pride in their service. Such silence between the men about the details of their experience was commonplace. Kiernan recorded the attitude of many when he wrote that it was ‘in the nature of the British that each man’s inner experience should be his own concern, not to be mentioned, much less discussed, and airmen have written little of fear’.50 Men in both services focused on their immediate tasks in order to keep going. ‘Living for the day as we were, it mattered little what we did’, pilot ‘McScotch’ explained, because for men like Admiral Bacon, showing any such anxiety would ‘have been the beginning of insomnia and the end of one’s utility’.51 Avoiding discussion allowed men to carry on, and avoid being overwhelmed by their fears of death.

Philpott_Chap02.indd 67

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

68

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Like submarines, aeroplanes were a recent and uncertain craft, so the chances of injury from mechanical failure or enemy action were significant. An anonymous pilot wrote of the death of his colleague Tod, who had only been in action for a few days. ‘Mess sort of fidgety tonight, bad luck sort of depressing,’ he explained. As the squadron had been ‘losing them fast lately, [it] makes one jumpy ... . Somehow I always feel it’s my fault when they get pipped, it ought to have been me, but that’s nerves probably.’52 Being a pilot was a greater risk than being a sailor. As William Bishop explained, ‘to see an enemy going down in flames is a source of great satisfaction ... . [Y]ou know his destruction is absolutely certain ... . [N]othing can save the man, or men.’53 Jay Winter showed that over 4,500 pilots were killed during the First World War, amounting to almost 17 per cent of the men serving.54 Although parachutes were being tested, the War Office was reluctant to distribute them because the pilot often became tangled in it when he tried to eject. Advice given to the inventors of parachutes by the War Office emphasised that prototypes should be ‘mainly influenced by considerations of morale. To be acceptable to the aviator a parachute must above all things provide him with confidence.’ The slightest doubt about their safety would deter a pilot from using it. The report further chastised scientists’ inexperience with airmen: The psychological side of parachuting has, so far, been almost completely ignored by inventors. They seem to regard aviators in the same way as we regard animals used for experimental purposes – as being without cognizance [sic] of the dangers to which they are subjected ... . One cannot force anything on flying officers. Their mental comfort is quite as big a consideration in the matter as cheapness and rapidity of production.55 Lacking a safe prototype, the War Office did not supply parachutes to pilots. Being an aviator, therefore, involved greater risk than being a sailor, for whom there were lifebelts and lifeboats to use in an emergency. Patrols lasted for approximately two hours, twice a day, during which time danger came from enemy machines or from anti-aircraft

Philpott_Chap02.indd 68

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

69

(‘Archie’) fire. Balfour, who joined the RFC in the summer of 1914, was among ‘the first squadron of Morane Bullets to fly about in formation, [but] we were constantly being mistaken by our own machines for Germans’.56 This lack of discrimination in the first year of the war was a real problem for pilots. ‘Some infantrymen could never resist the temptation to take a pot shot at an aeroplane without bothering to ascertain its nationality,’ L. A. Strange complained, ‘and more than one airman got his baptism by fire from his own side.’57 This was not only life-threatening but would also have been disheartening for the British airmen trying to protect those same troops from enemy observation. Men had to retain their composure not only to protect the morale of their squadrons but also to maintain personal control by responding lightly to the danger. ‘Unfortunately some of my chums have not been lucky,’ Downing wrote to his family on 14 March 1917; ‘[A]s a consequence we have several new members ... . Most of them do not know very much about aerial gunnery & we have the boring job of instructing when we are not flying.’58 Downing separated himself from the deaths of his friends with a seemingly blasé note referencing the inconvenience of teaching new pilots as a result of the casualty rate. The frequency of fatalities meant that during the war, pilots could not afford to be sentimental about death. To cope, combatants focused on their own role in war and did not regard the death of colleagues as personal losses, so, as Arthur Gould Lee simply stated, ‘the daily risk of violent end was accepted unconcernedly’.59 Instead, pilots viewed the risk as entertaining. ‘There are few things so interesting as watching a machine land,’ ‘Spin’ joked in his wartime memoir: the crowd surged out on to the aerodrome, and in almost breathless silence watch the landing ... . [I]f it’s a bad one, the abuse is quite horrible to listen to ... and the crowd advances either to inspect the new machine or the remains of it ... or disperse[s] to the ante-room to criticize the landing or continue the fox-trot.60 The coolness with which ‘Spin’ refers to these incidences served a number of purposes; any crash could be fatal but laughing at the danger

Philpott_Chap02.indd 69

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

70

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

his fellow pilots had faced prevented him from believing that his could be a similar fate. It kept his own fears from overwhelming him, and demonstrated his bravado to his colleagues. William Fry remembered his ‘mornings as being very happy, except when we lost anyone on the patrol, and to be honest we did not let that worry us too much. It would have served no purpose.’61 Trenchard’s official policy of ensuring that there were no empty chairs at breakfast encouraged men not to dwell on the possibility of death, but to focus on their immediate task. Early in his service, ‘McScotch’ made the discomforting error of asking the fate of a fellow pilot, missing from dinner. This ‘terrible breach of fighting squadron etiquette’ meant the ‘pilot sitting next to me said “shush,” while Mannock, opposite me, gave my foot a kick ... . He also told me that as the spirits of the younger pilots had to be kept up we were forbidden to mention a casualty at mealtimes.’62 This ritual of distraction and denial was essential in helping them to cope with the dangers of their role. In these adverse times, men relied on their professional culture to guide them through.

Threats to Motivation: Poor Leadership: The Admiralty has been accused of poor leadership, both by historians and contemporary newspapers, who have questioned the suitability of its plans.63 Some sailors also began to doubt the effectiveness of the tactics employed by those in command. Decisions regarding the course of the war would have a direct bearing on the motivation of combatants. As Jay Winter explained, if men lost faith in the decisionmaking power of those above them, then their commitment to the war would be challenged.64 The extent to which men appreciated or actively avoided this understanding of war is subject to debate, but some began to recognize that the authoritarian hierarchy restricted their initiative. ‘When I joined the Admiralty,’ Dewar moaned, ‘it was nobody’s business to plan and think ahead in operations ... . [N]o preparations were made for contingencies which might arise in the future.’65 Consequently, Wester Wemyss argued that ‘chaos reigns at Whitehall’ because they are ‘cowards, morally, apparently frightened to accept my ideas. Well, they’re making a mess of it,’ he concluded in his wartime

Philpott_Chap02.indd 70

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

71

letters.66 Battle plans were written in advance and were strongly influenced by earlier campaigns. These ‘sought to predict almost any eventuality of war and to provide ready made answers’, historians Nigel Steel and Peter Hart explained. The ‘Royal Navy was remarkably keen on stamping on all signs of individuality in junior officers ... [but] on finally becoming an admiral they were miraculously to blossom forth with the instincts, daring and command abilities of a new Nelson,’ they sneered.67 When a clash finally occurred in 1916, the opportunity to pursue a naval victory was squandered by this restrictive leadership. Having waited two years to engage the High Seas Fleet, sailors were discouraged by their failure to inflict a decisive blow at Jutland. This failure was blamed on poor leadership. ‘We British made a mess of it,’ Hall complained and in so doing ‘probably prolonged the war for a year ... . [I]t is useless to build bigger and better ships unless someone thinks of how to use them.’68 Political decision-making was dominated by whoever was First Sea Lord. ‘Jellicoe required his captains to comply with written orders,’ historian Geoffrey Bennet argued, and ‘he could not realise that with so large a fleet ... success would depend on his admirals’ and captains’ initiative in executing his ideas in the light of prevailing circumstances.’69 Traditional leadership, which had served the Royal Navy so effectively, had become outmoded and rather redundant. This new age of warfare saw battle fleets reluctant to engage each other directly, preferring to act through the subterfuge of submarines and mines. Admiral Bacon resented central control because the Admiralty had ‘no first-hand knowledge of the weather and other local conditions’. Instead, he felt that their ‘duty should be confined to the transmission of information and not to dictate, for their information must necessarily be tardy and incomplete.’70 This left participants with little to do but wait for danger to find them, and consequently led them to question whether they were fighting the war the right way.

Threats to Motivation: Boredom and Discomfort Combatants were not permanently in a violent frenzy, however, as Tony Ashworth highlighted in his text Trench Warfare 1914–1918.

Philpott_Chap02.indd 71

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

72

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

The ‘general picture was one of flux’, with ‘sectors alternating between quiet and active, and units becoming more or less passive or aggressive’, he explained. 71 The predominance of regular patrol and waiting in both services led to frustration amongst the men. For the navy, much of their war involved a defensive blockade confining German ships to their ports and patrolling in the North Sea. Even in the new submarines, ‘most returned from their arduous patrols having seen neither sight nor sound of the enemy ... . [and in fact] sea sickness was one of the greatest problems facing the submarine crew’, rather than enemy action, Lieutenant Carr wrote.72 At the beginning of the twentieth century, naval complacency was greater than any recent achievements could justify; sailors had expected the premier service to easily overwhelm the enemy. Britain’s sailors held a position of strength. Although it did not take advantage of its technological superiority, the Royal Navy controlled the seas but found enduring the wait much more difficult. Understandably therefore, sailors complained of inactivity, and the boredom of waiting for opportunities to engage. ‘This inaction will soon drive me mad,’ Lord Wester Wemyss grumbled when his ship was held at Portsmouth in February 1915. He blamed the Admiralty for failing to issue suitable orders, complaining that ‘I have told them over and over again that I am of no use here ... . There is so much that might be done.’73 As shown previously, naval training and routine readied men for action and they had expected to be in battle soon after the beginning of the war. Yet for ‘two and a half years’, Arthur Hungerford Pollen wearily recorded, ‘the seapower of the Allies appeared both so overwhelmingly established and so abjectly accepted by the enemy that it seemed incredible this condition could ever alter.’74 Training stirred men to action, but gave no remedy for delay. Thus Sub-Lieutenant Stephen Hall, of HMS Southampton, in 1914 explained: For many months our life was an almost continuous series of uneventful patrols, punctuated by occasional misses from submarines. It was a hard life in the winter months ... . [I]n this little ship our hardships, our boredoms and fears over the never-ending succession of months during which we patrolled

Philpott_Chap02.indd 72

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

73

the North Sea ... . We hated each other, we loved each other, but we were one company.75 This was written in 1952, by which time Hall was a well-known broadcaster and had survived two wars, yet contemporary accounts concur. Douglas King-Harman relayed that same feeling of frustrated inaction in a letter to his father in June 1917. ‘Luckily we had a few days respite before starting our patrol or I should now have become hopelessly insane,’ he despaired.76 The RFC, like the navy, was initially focused on patrolling and spent most of its time on reconnaissance duties. For many pilots, this constituted their entire war experience, and, as Herbert Ward explained, ‘the chances of actually sighting the enemy were still fairly remote for they seldom ventured over our lines’. Enemy airmen ‘showed little inclination to become involved in a fight. They had their work to do and we had ours.’77 German pilots preferred to remain over their own lines, W. T. Blake explained, where ‘hidden thousands of feet up in the clouds’, he could wait for ‘his chance of attacking a machine with no danger to himself’.78 The primary role of the pilot was to provide reconnaissance material for the army, and aerial combat only developed to protect observer planes gathering intelligence. As R. H. Kiernan wrote, ‘there could be no heartburning among the pilots and observers who for years carried on the work of the Army, without hope of glory in aeroplanes that were usually slow and vulnerable.’79 The routines of life in the RFC meant that men were regularly in the air, but their contact with the enemy was far less frequent. Men endured cold and uncomfortable conditions in both services, but their life back at base was initially no more appealing. Sailors slept in one room filled with hammocks (these were tidied away every morning). ‘From the more or less comfortable beds of the Barracks I now had to sleep in a hammock, packed close together, slung about 5 feet from the deck,’ Frederick Allen complained. He quickly learned that ships were ‘built primarily for fighting, comfort did not enter into it’, particularly as the ‘lack of fresh air, the limited light from the portholes, made this, my now home, short of suffocating’. 80 At the start of the war, pilots also had to take advantage of local barns, hedges,

Philpott_Chap02.indd 73

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

74

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

haystacks, or any other suitable resting place. ‘No one could describe our life in the barge as congenial,’ Herbert Ward complained: the cabins were cramped and the hatch above them often failed to keep out the rain, added to which the vessel itself was anything but soundproof ... . [L]ife [was] well nigh unbearable for those due for the next day’s dawn reconnaissance, and the trilling of the tiresome alarm clock in one cabin would rouse the inmates of several others.81 The frustration apparent in these accounts of service life led sailors, in particular, to question how well their leaders were conducting the war. The hours of waiting meant that men endured difficult weather conditions and uncomfortable accommodation. Gordon Maxwell, a naval artist serving with the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserves (RNVR), on patrol in the North Sea, observed that although ‘three-quarters of a sailor’s life in war time is spent on watching and waiting ... a sailor has to face and fight a still greater power ... the elements.’82 Likewise, in the RFC’s first war, pilots also had to contend with flying in all weathers and at increasing distances from the ground. ‘At the height that we fly,’ Second Lieutenant Arthur Robinson explained, ‘there is only ½ the amount (if that) of oxygen in the air and the least exertion tires you out in no time. Your senses are not so keen either.’83 (The elements that Robinson feared may well have contributed to his own death; he left for a photographic reconnaissance mission on 25 September 1918 and never returned). Whilst sailors rarely saw the enemy and did not have the sight of war regularly before them, aviators were unable to escape its visible effects. ‘The earth is turned up in mounds,’ Claude Graham White and Harry Harper explained: There are excavations everywhere; and a bewildering maze of trenches look to the airman like a gash across the face of the country; while almost everywhere the eye can see, scarring the ground with deep, ugly holes are the places where shells have struck and burst. The scene is far from picturesque; it is in fact depressing.84

Philpott_Chap02.indd 74

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

75

Confronted with the effects of war, but having so little opportunity to engage the enemy themselves, men were challenged by these periods of inaction. After receiving new orders on 23 March 1915, Douglas King-Harman wrote to his mother from HMS Midge, saying: We have just been told off for a new job, which has absolutely bored us to tears ... . It’s a rotten job at the best of times, but in the kind of weather we are likely to get ... . It will mean a lot more work for everyone, and I am sorry for the hands ... . [T]hey have been pretty well on the run since March last year – with only 48 hours leave since then.85 A substantial proportion of combatants’ time, therefore, was spent on seemingly futile routine patrols and enduring many discomforts, which only increased their longing for a climactic battle.

Threats to Motivation: Lack of Moral Fibre In contrast, those in authority looked to servicemen rather than leaders to explain the deadlock. Contemporary doctors were concerned that men lacked the ‘moral fibre’ necessary to perform in combat and excessive drinking was believed to be a sign that they were not fit for duty. Historian Alexander Watson showed that many contemporary psychiatrists ‘believed that excessive alcohol consumption was indicative of a predisposition to mental illness’.86 O. P. Napier Pearn found that 10 per cent of his wartime cases had a ‘history of indulgence in alcohol’, but this was more likely to arise after a leave period than from combat stress.87 The RFC in particular had a reputation for alcoholism. Occasionally drinking led to some aggressive behaviour directed at inhabitants of the local towns. This could be frustrating for commanding officers who had to maintain good relations to guarantee supplies and land for aerodromes. ‘The majority of the squadron ... appear to have raised hell in B,’ Major C. E. Dixon despaired in November 1917: Of course the whole lot got tight and went round the place seeking to devour Frenchmen. They broke up several cafes and

Philpott_Chap02.indd 75

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

76

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

most of the windows in any street they happened to be in. Their crowning achievement was to commandeer a two horse cab and drive round the town en masse shrieking epithets at any and all Frenchmen.88 However, Dixon does not record disciplining his men afterwards, nor does he seem surprised by this incident. In fact, his tone displays almost jaded resignation. This suggests that such behaviour had become an accepted part of the airman’s life, and Dixon tolerated infractions as a necessary method for airmen to relieve the demands of combat. These were occasional lapses, though, and the quantity of alcohol consumed was not quite as copious as doctors suggested. ‘I can genuinely say,’ Balfour attested, ‘there was no real heavy drinking ... except when somebody’s nerves had gone, and when this happened ... the sufferer would be shipped off to England.’89 Arthur Hogg also spoke wearily of his Squadron Leader who had ‘practically drowned himself in booze for the past month.’ The dependence was ‘so bad he couldn’t sleep ... [and] he went down to the Sejeant’s [sic] mess where he found more sociable company.’ Worse than the effect on his own health, it meant the man ‘was having a rather rotten effect on the Squadron’.90 Excessive drinking was a sign of potential breakdown and men acted quickly to remove the individual from combat. Rather than drinking to maintain motivation, men were, in fact, exhausted from their daily travails. They were ‘possessed of a sort of lethargy and physical fatigue’, Balfour complained, which made the effort of engaging in intellectual pursuits almost impossible. ‘Our literature was largely magazines, newspapers and light novels, alternating with bridge on most evenings and some afternoons,’ he claimed.91 In the navy, men also turned to gambling rather than alcohol to pass the time. These activities were an opportunity for men to subvert their usual routine and increase their bonds through misbehaviour. Victor Hayward’s visit to the recreation deck of his ship reminded him of the ‘Monte Carlo gaming tables, but instead of roulette it was the Navy’s famous game of Crown and Anchor. The whole scene was lit by candles ... . [S]ometimes there would be over a hundred pounds placed on the board.’ A lookout was stationed to give advanced warning of any approaching authorities.92 As R. H Kiernan

Philpott_Chap02.indd 76

3/24/2013 10:31:08 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

77

has explained, airmen ‘like Ball and McCudden were practically non-drinkers and non-smokers, and abstemious habits were almost a necessity ... for such missions required extra reserves of physical and nervous energy.’93 The need for alcohol, therefore, usually indicated that the few men not coping with the combat experience, rather than being a necessity for all servicemen to support their courage. These lapses in decorum were frustrating but the primary concern for the service authorities was to keep men fighting, and the pressure of daily patrols meant that both pilots and sailors needed ways to escape from the combat sphere. Arguably, therefore, an occasional bout of drinking, gambling and ‘hell-raising’ was an acceptable price for commanders to pay if it meant those men would return to action the next day and search for an enemy to kill. Most importantly, rather than indicating a ‘lack of moral fibre’, these activities were a necessary part of courage. Pilots ‘had their time in the air tense with exhilaration and danger’, H. A. Jones explained: but when they turned their backs upon the battlefield the war was left behind ... there was gaiety on the ground, [but] it was not of a kind to affect seriousness of purpose in the air. Some words of Sir Walter Raleigh ... may fittingly be taken ...’ Critics who speak of what they have not felt and do not know have sometimes blamed the air service because, being young, it has not the decorum of age. The Latin poet said that it is decorous to die for one’s country; in that decorum the service is perfectly instructed’.94 Jones wrote these words in his official history after the war, by which time references to killing had been played down and replaced by notions of glamorous sacrifice. Yet the essence of Jones’s romanticised prose remains a valid insight into the combative mentality and the value of relieving the pressures of combat to maintain courage.

Encouraging Motivation: Pride in Service The challenge of balancing episodes of combat with long periods of inaction, therefore, characterized the First World War. This section

Philpott_Chap02.indd 77

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

78

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

considers aspects of service life designed to support combatant motivation. It first explores the institutional factors of service-pride and manliness (both instigated by training), before moving to examine the increasingly individual factors such as comradeship, leisure facilities and, ultimately, a personal sense of control over combat activity that helped to boost motivation. Initially, sailors and airmen took great pride in being part of their respective service and this helped them to maintain their combat effectiveness. Enthused by his time in the navy, E. F. Knight explained in 1919 that to ‘live for a while in these ships is to find oneself in a purer, breezier atmosphere – an atmosphere of simple loyalty, old-fashioned patriotism, devotion to the service, and cheery good fellowship.’95 Seamen immersed themselves in a shared community of values designed to withstand the effects of war. Ted Nesham, writing about his naval brother, Paul, in August 1914, advised their mother to be ‘proud of having a son in the Navy, who is a member of the finest service the world has ever seen and whatever else you feel, you must be glad that he’s to have the chance to do his duty and distinguish himself ... . I know Paul will play the game when it comes to the real thing.’96 Lionel Dawson was inspired by the navy’s role as protector of the British Empire, and observed that relishing this pride ‘perhaps subconsciously created in us the view that anything outside the service was of little importance, and that time employed on matters unconnected with it wasted.’97 Customs, in particular, reinforced that sense of naval longevity and emulation of past heroes. These traditions ‘have a reason, either of courtesy, sentiment or utility’, Gerard Wells asserted, especially of ‘one ship standing by another in distress’.98 For contemporaries confronting unknown forms of warfare, customs provided stability and familiarity. A sense of exclusivity also bolstered the enthusiasm of pilots, whose service pride is indicated by their continued belief in the certainty of victory. H. G. Downing expected a quiet Christmas in 1916, but advised his family to ‘buck up for the next one, as when our Squadron gets busy the poor Huns will simply give up the ghost & we shall all be home’. Even by October 1917, when the end of war was still a remote possibility, he remained positive. ‘Everybody seems very optimistic out here,’ he wrote, ‘& I don’t think it will be many years

Philpott_Chap02.indd 78

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

79

more.’99 It is interesting that Downing expected the war to continue for years (rather than months) but he did not seem alarmed or upset. In fact, his tone suggests that pilots were prepared to keep fighting beyond 1918, for as long as they were required to. In July 1918, pilot Arthur Robinson told his father that the ‘morale of the troops is excellent here. The “Air Force” have absolutely got the Hun on the run so as far as the air goes and in consequence everybodys [sic] happy.’ Just four days later he also said that being an airman was ‘absolutely the finest job in France’. Pilots approached combat with eagerness, and despite the prolongation of war, they continued to be certain of their almost predestined victory. Winning the war was a matter of when not if. ‘A great deal of credit for our “mastery of the air” during the Somme push of 1916, belongs to those who organised and those who led the fighting expeditions,’ Alan Bott enthused in his 1918 memoir. He praised ‘the irritative effect on enemy morale of the knowledge that whenever the weather was fine our machines hummed overhead, ready to molest and be molested.’100 That aerial superiority meant that by August 1918, British pilots were relatively untroubled by enemy action. Consequently, to cope with boredom, Robinson requested some ‘chewing gum – as five hours flying over Hunland makes one want something to do’.101 Throughout the war, both services exuded great pride in their work, and their combat effectiveness was encouraged by the eagerness to fight, whenever that should come. Hope of battle also helped to dispel feelings of disillusion in the navy. Captain C. de Burgh accurately predicted the course of the war in his diary entry on 5 August 1914, written aboard HMS Antrim. ‘We now feel very pleased & are full of confidence at knocking them if we can only get them out,’ he sighed, ‘but am sure their policy is to do as much damage as possible with mines and submarines.’102 For the next four years, that wish to fight was the preoccupation of many sailors. Rather than undermine their enthusiasm, however, this kept them motivated. For example, Paul Nesham writing to his mother shortly after the Battle of Jutland explained that although he had ‘lost heaps of pals’, he was sure that this was ‘the way they all wanted to die!’. Men continued to believe in victory and trust that a battle was coming. Despite a short period of despondence, Douglas King-Harman

Philpott_Chap02.indd 79

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

80

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

insisted that he ‘wouldn’t be anywhere else except here for anything’.103 Being part of the navy ensured that men were committed to remaining at war, and would defend its reputation. Pride in service also extended to critical newspaper reports. How well servicemen understood the strategic situation surrounding them is arguable. There were, indeed, men who focused only on their immediate task, whilst others were quite affected by the accusations of the press. When a momentous victory seemed remote, reporters particularly questioned the defensive attitude of Britain’s sailors. ‘The Navy was doing nothing spectacular,’ official historian Arthur Marder subsequently wrote, because ‘the Admiralty were said to be subordinating the tremendous fighting power of the navy to an unimaginative “defensive” or “passive role,” having no ideas of a naval offensive beyond the blockade.’104 Yet, men were largely contemptuous of these accounts, finding press interference officious and counter-productive. ‘If you have any spare time on your hands, turn round and strafe the Daily Mail,’ sailor Arthur Borton (‘Bosky’) instructed his father in November 1915. ‘That rag is the limit,’ he raged, ‘after you’ve read The Times and the Daily Mail you begin to wonder whether you hadn’t better crawl out at night and surrender ... . [I]t doesn’t help to be told that you are maintaining a precarious existence on the edge of a volcano whose eruption is already overdue.’105 Paul Nesham, writing to his family in June 1916, expressed a similar sentiment. ‘God! They are awful,’ he proclaimed, ‘what the hell does a bloke fugging in an office know about tactics and things ... yet they sit down and right [sic] a lot of bosh.’106 As reporters had not joined the fighting, servicemen argued, their opinion was inconsequential. Pilots, too, ignored newspaper reports, preferring to focus on their own role. ‘Isolated from the rest of the world, we didn’t really care, for we were not interested in it,’ pilot Arthur Gould Lee wrote dismissively. ‘Certainly we read the newspapers, a day or two late, with eagerness,’ he continued, ‘for otherwise we would not have known how our war was progressing, but we soon forgot even the boldest headline.’107 In order to maintain their effectiveness, servicemen spent little time searching for meaning whilst the war was in progress. ‘Our main concern was the condition of the aeroplane, the engine and the machine gun,’ William Fry wrote;

Philpott_Chap02.indd 80

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

81

‘[W]e learnt as we went along and developed our tactics from experience.’108 As Nesham and Borton suggested, combatants preferred to focus on their work, dismissing the ill-informed reporters who were unable to empathise with the experience of combat.

Encouraging Motivation: Manliness Service pride, therefore, was closely related to notions of manliness and based on expectations of duty, with their structural relationship to the regulations that governed service life. As Richard Holmes and George Mosse state, honour and duty were integral to male behaviour and the foundations of courage in the First World War.109 The Royal Navy emphasized honour and duty as synonymous with the role of the sailor. Midshipman Frank Layard, who joined the Navy at 15, advised that young sailors ‘must be taught that forgetfulness, carelessness and slackness could not be tolerated and they must develop a proper sense of duty, responsibility and respect for their superiors.’110 Their conduct should follow a precise formula for masculine behaviour at all times. In this sense, to do one’s duty meant to be a man. As Mosse showed, the war was perceived as a test of manliness: men ‘not only savoured their manhood but also the freedom that war apparently brought them ... . The sense of having achieved the freedom to “be a man” through the instrumentality of war was widely shared.’111 By associating manliness with what it meant to be a sailor, the navy epitomized the combatant’s role. Yet nowhere was the manly ideal realized more fully than in the newly-formed Flying Corps. Pilots not only exemplified traditional forms of masculinity, but were thought to have expanded the concept. For contemporary masculinity, Mosse concluded, these ‘ “Knights of the Sky” were a new race of men in their flying machines and at the same time embodied the traditions of male honour and chivalry.’112 Many combatants reiterated the romantic aspect of flight by playing with images of medieval crusaders.113 ‘To belong to the RFC in those days was to be singled out among the rest of the khaki-clad world,’ Cecil Lewis emoted, because ‘flying was still something of a miracle. We who practised it were thought very brave, very daring and very gallant: we belonged to a world apart.’114

Philpott_Chap02.indd 81

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

82

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

The association of the pilot with masculine ideals infused public perception, with a fiction of the heroic glories of aerial warfare that has lasted until the modern day. ‘The war in the clouds fired the public imagination,’ wrote Edgar Middleton, a veteran of the Royal Naval Air Service. By 1920 the popular conception of aerial manliness was already significantly removed from the brutal truth. Middleton argued that ‘the air war was still underdeveloped, too much confined to the exclusive few, for the lay-man to view flying in the war in its true proportion.’115 However realistic this concept of masculinity was, it had a significant effect on the men of the RFC. ‘We graduated from boyhood to manhood between 1914 and 1918,’ Balfour exclaimed.116 Central to that experience of manliness was the belief in duty and this was underpinned by the hierarchy that supported men in action. The ‘perfect Squadron Commander’, according to Blake thinks of the welfare of his men, and usually organises something which takes the minds of officers and men alike off the monotony of the daily round. Sports may occupy the afternoon, and a concert in the evening will bring visitors from all the surrounding air stations.117 Their individuality in the air was reflected by the less formal structure on the ground that treated pilots as equals. James McCudden explained that ‘M’ squadron created its own orchestra under the conductorship of Major Blomfield, who only recruited musicians to his flight. In February and March 1917, as ‘the “Derby” scheme was operating’, McCudden wrote, ‘Major Blomfield went to all the principal London orchestras and inquired the names of the men who were being called up ... . Truly this man was remarkable.’118 The flexibility of the RFC structure allowed its commanders to take charge of their own squadron, and, as Blake explained, to form their unit around a common interest. Arthur Robinson wrote of the informal dress code that was a natural extension of the more relaxed style of leadership experienced in the Flying Corps. ‘Today is awfully hot so we all go about in shirt & slacks,’ he wrote on 1 August 1918.119 When the RAF was formed in 1918, Herbert Ward’s squadron inherited a former naval

Philpott_Chap02.indd 82

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

83

pilot as its leader, to the detriment of his enthusiasm. The new officer ‘expected his subordinates to know their place’, Ward grumbled, and this made him realise ‘the gulf that separated the RFC I had known from the newly created RAF where blitheness seemed to be lacking’.120 As naval hierarchy was far more rigidly enforced, this led to the tension Ward describes. Of all three services, though, the members of Royal Navy had the most institutionalized sense of who they were, and what their role should be. This was supported by strict discipline, severe punishments for infractions and tight leadership. ‘During the Whole Holiday of July 1913, two cadets slipped away,’ Eric Wheeler Bush recalled, but they were soon caught and returned to College where they were ‘charged with “desertion” and put in cells ... . The parents of one boy withdrew their son ... . The other was awarded twelve official cuts to be given in front of the whole College.’121 The use of punishments reminded sailors of their duty, and the strength of the system around them. This provided constant reassurance to combatants who waited patiently for battle to arrive. As theorists Hamblin, Miller and Wiggins explained, strong leadership helped men to maintain their enthusiasm. Although naval decision-making was strategically weak, the naval system ingrained faith in the command abilities of those at the top of the hierarchy and this, as Mosse asserts, gave sailors the freedom to be a man. The opportunity to perform a man’s role was attractive to combatants. Masculinity, through its close association with courage, gave servicemen an ideal to aspire to in order to overcome their fears and frustrations.

Encouraging Motivation: Comradeship Part of this manly ideal was having the courage to support one’s fellows. The value of comradeship to performance was essential, and men spoke of their fellows with a romanticised tone. Whatever their opinions of war at the time, or in retrospect, it was that relationship with the men sharing their immediate existence which they recognized as central to their fighting experience.122 ‘During the war years we had lived sixty seconds to the minute, and had formed

Philpott_Chap02.indd 83

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

84

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

friendships under conditions that made them lasting for life,’ Balfour recalled. ‘Undoubtedly character was at its best in those days ... [men] served not only gallantly but unselfishly ... . I left the Royal Air Force with no regrets,’ he concluded.123 For the members of the RFC, their combat system was mutually supportive, so it was, arguably, more important to form these bonds with one another and create a sense of community on the ground. Sailors, too, found that boredom and confinement, rather than creating division and discontent, galvanized the men who endured them together. As Stephen Hall noted in his memoir, these difficulties ‘gradually moulded us ... [and created a] comradeship I can never forget’.124 Encouraging squadron or ship unity was essential if commanders wanted men to perform their duties. That unity succinctly described by Hall above – ‘We hated each other, we loved each other, but we were one company’ – is perhaps the most telling summary of men’s attitudes to combat in the Great War. It was via life in the mess that pilots were primarily reminded that they did not fight alone. ‘Life was boisterous in our little mess, with a lot of ragging and horseplay,’ William Fry recorded; ‘[I]t was no good going to bed if you did not feel like any more of the hilarity ... . The whole flight would then crowd into his small room and throw themselves on his bed.’125 The social area was the centre of the pilot’s world, a place for him to relax and distract himself from the war environment. Consequently, a great deal of time was spent making those areas cosy and welcoming, to create valuable distance between the periods of fighting and of rest. In November 1917, Major Dixon was co-ordinating some redecoration. ‘The mess is being done up and a bar constructed,’ he excitedly reported, and ‘we have got some comfortable chairs round the fireplace ... . We are putting red wall paper on the walls (the curtains are willow tree patterned and not pink). The Mess room I shall have done in blue.’126 As this would be the place where men spent most of their time, pilots would welcome any resemblance to familiar places at home after their patrols. Opportunities to bond were encouraged. Exemplifying their comparative freedom, T. McKenny Hughes took a trip to Paris with his

Philpott_Chap02.indd 84

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

85

friends in January 1916, during which he ‘had a really nasty lunch at the Louvre. The service is perfectly desperate,’ he moaned: I am putting the hotel on my blacklist ... . Attempted a care but that was shut to troops. However a fat man, placed near the door possibly for this purpose, said ‘Are you officers ... Follow me ...’ [We] went in to find a large room ... with 2 billiard tables & about 3 groups English and French officers ... some playing cards, some drinking & some talking. We had whiskeys & sodas without any trouble.127 This access to privileges denied to other services was a necessary motivator for pilots. ‘In the hot afternoon,’ McCudden continued, ‘we all bathed in a little stream a few miles from the aerodrome ... . [W]e had tenders in which to go up to ... St Omer ... . In the mess we had many games, ping-pong being easily the most popular. Then we had the inevitable cards, gramophone, and piano.’128 On a typical relaxed day in the RFC, Downing jokingly wrote to his sister Gladys in December 1916: We are rudely disturbed from our slumber at 10 am by our orderly. Then if we decide we are not too tired to get up & have breakfast, we arrive down at 10:45 am, afterwards we straggle around the club & look at the papers, to make sure there is a war on. Back to lunch after that a gentle stroll until tea time ... . Dinner follows & generally some place of amusement.129 Men lived closely with their comrades, both relying on them in combat and spending inactive periods with them. These relationships helped to bolster courage and, by creating pleasant leisure facilities, combatants could fill their time together with entertainments. The social life of the RFC was more varied than any of the services because in flight each man was alone. It became increasingly essential for men to identify with their squadron-group, the Corps and the wider organization of the service. The unique identities squadrons created for themselves only served to strengthen their sense of exclusivity.

Philpott_Chap02.indd 85

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

86

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Oliver Bernard Ellis of the RNAS described his own Squadron’s peculiarity in 1917, one that ensured they recognised each other in the skies and were reminded of their group bond. ‘I am having “PETER” painted on my machine, and the man who flies next to me is having “BENJAMIN” on his,’ he laughed, and in the spirit of the joke, ‘we have both having rabbits painted on them. Another man is going to have “Fopsy” and a rabbit on his and so our flight will be a real Belgian Rabbit flight!’130 As very young men, not too far from having read Beatrix Potter stories, this shared sense of fun was an important distraction from the business of fighting. Whether or not anyone outside the squadron understood the joke was immaterial; it consciously identified the men of the ‘Rabbit flight’ as a particular group of unified fighters. The joy described by one pilot at hearing his friend was alive is indicative of the value placed on special community. It was the ‘best news for [a] week. Everyone acted as if war ended ... . Everyone full of pep to-night, like a cloud lifted from mess and celebrations rampant.’131 It was this shared bond that kept men together and motivated them to keep fighting.

Encouraging Motivation: Leisure Leisure facilities were important for both sailors and pilots, but early in the war, these facilities had to be developed. Initially at Scapa Flow the ‘relaxations were few and principally confined to walks ashore with tea to follow at Risa Lodge, which was run as a club for officers’, Captain Lionel Dawson complained, adding that: The golf links at Flotta were too far away for use in certain freedom in view of the demands made upon the destroyers and the constant risk of being required to proceed to sea as quickly as possible. It was even worse for the men. Football-grounds of a rough nature were in course of construction and some were even completed by 1916, but they were few among many, and the period during which leave was permitted was short, and always ended at dark. In winter time daylight failed soon after 3 pm nor did it arrive again until 9 am.132

Philpott_Chap02.indd 86

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

87

It was at the base where combatants spent the largest proportion of their time and it was here that respite from duty was sought. As war became static, improvements happened quickly and sailor Roger Keyes recalled soon having ‘half a dozen days shooting over dogs on the Novor Moors’ at Scapa. This privilege was also enjoyed by others in Keyes’s circle: The carpenter of the Centurion was a regular old poacher, so we allowed him to shoot ground game on the moor adjoining the foreshaw [sic]; he wandered about with an old gun and some ferrets, generally accompanied by the Fleet Paymaster or a Midshipman ... . Those days at Scapa will always be a happy memory and it was a wonderfully restful and healthy life.133 Meanwhile, on the Western Front, the Royal Flying Corps built permanent aerodromes, comfortable huts and even sports fields to help create psychological distance between aerial combat and life on the ground. For those arriving later in the war, expecting grim surroundings, they were surprised instead to find ‘a rare oasis of mental refreshment amidst the moral wilderness’, ‘McScotch’ enthused. It was so perfect that he ‘fell asleep feeling more at home ... than I had done since my enlistment’. As a new recruit in 1917, he had not expected to find such normality: The general impression surrounding the camp was that of a peaceful tennis club at home ... . I asked one of the pilots who were sitting on deckchairs where I might find the Commanding Officer ... . [he] waved his racquet to me. ‘You the new pilot? See you later when we’ve won the set.’ The informal greeting struck me as unusual – no fuss, no formality.134 ‘McScotch’s introduction typified the nature of base life in the Royal Flying Corps and emphasizes the time the services spent in developing these areas as a place of respite for fighting men. Away from front line action, therefore, airmen especially were free to spend their comparatively ample leisure time on a variety of sports

Philpott_Chap02.indd 87

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

88

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

and amusements, intended to lessen the dislocation with their pre-war lives. ‘In our home in a beautiful green orchard,’ Lieutenant-Colonel William Bishop wrote, ‘one minute we were as far removed from the war as if we were in South America, and an hour later we would be fighting for our lives ... . [it] somehow made the real fighting, when it came, seem less real and tragic.’135 For Bishop fighting entered an almost fantasy realm, clearly separated from the life he shared with the men on his base. In both services, the ‘real’ aspects of war were enjoyed with the men of their squadron or ship. W. T. Blake was stationed in a large chateau, with a small shop in a cobbled square. More importantly, he wrote, men had ‘a separate badminton court, and a cricket pitch ... . That cricket pitch! Taken in combination with the demon bowler is the most dangerous spot in France.’136 Evidently airmen ‘were well looked after, almost spoiled,’ Wing Commander Fry boasted; ‘[W]e lived in comfort and were provided with horses ... to ride about the countryside if we liked.’137 The RFC position in France and Flanders was unique; they had access to privileges and luxuries denied their counterparts and were able to compartmentalise the burden of fighting. In July 1916, at the beginning of the Somme campaign, Ewart Garland made the most of being in a quiet sector where he ‘enjoyed a Battle of Waterloo sort of life, active flying being interposed with riding, tennis, visits to Bethune for teas, dinners, drinking etc.’ Happily, for Garland his mess life was similar with ‘meals, correct wines, including port circulated in a correct and proper manner [and] Liquers [sic] with coffee were de rigeur.’138 These activities, as Bishop suggested, made combat seem an almost illusory experience, compared to the normality of base life. As the navy had less opportunity than expected to operate in battle, and instead was kept from Scapa by patrols, it was of increased importance for sailors to expend their energies through organized activities. Several theatrical productions were staged as there ‘was plenty of talent in the Fleet, and as time went on a very high standard was achieved’, Admiral Chalmers boasted. Keen to participate, significant effort was involved in these performances, as Chalmers enthused: Costumes and wigs were hired from London. Lighting effects, equal to the best in London theatres, were devised by the ships

Philpott_Chap02.indd 88

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

89

torpedo party ... . An augmented orchestra from the Royal Marines band was ensconced in the orchestra pit ... . As no women were available, the female parts were usually taken by young midshipman, beautifully bewigged and befrocked ... . There was plenty of variety in the type of entertainment. The Warspite won a high reputation by presenting a complete light opera ... the Queen Elizabeth ... astonished the Fleet by putting on a Russian ballet to the music of Liszt.139 Each performance was attended by up 2,000 officers and men, nominally emphasizing the unity of the service. ‘Most big ships in the Grand Fleet boasted a concert party,’ Eric Wheeler Bush exclaimed and to ‘overcome the problem of stage and seating, the Admiralty converted the store ship Boradino into a theatre ship. Any captain wishing to put on a show could ask for her to be berthed alongside.’140 Leaders also took their opportunity on these occasions to reinforce commitment to the war. At the end of the evening, Admiral Beatty, as First Sea Lord, was known to address the assembled audiences hoping to rouse them with inspiring speeches. It was a rare opportunity to speak to so many sailors at one time and these occasions were motivating. ‘In their preparation and presentation,’ Chalmers continued, ‘the theatrical entertainments refreshed the minds of the young men ... . [T]he theatre ship played no small part in upholding the morale of the Fleet during those weary months of waiting.’ 141 Ships would vie with one another to provide the best show, fostering the spirit of competition that helped promote morale and distract men from the lack of enemy engagement. Sport was also used to encourage men into structured relaxation with cricket, football and tennis being most important to the social stability of bases and the continued health of servicemen. Naval effectiveness relied upon constant readiness for action, so men needed to ensure that they were physically fit to do their duty when called upon. Eric Kebel Chatterton of the Q-Ship branch recalled of his colleagues that although a few ‘were killed, some were taken prisoners ... some broke down in health; but in no case did you ever find one who failed to realize the intense seriousness of his job or neglected keeping himself in perfect physical health’, and consequently ‘not once could he

Philpott_Chap02.indd 89

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

90

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

be caught off his guard’.142 These recreational facilities helped men to maintain the healthy masculine body necessary to cope with the daily routines of naval life, and to perform effectively in combat. The RFC also encouraged the use of athletics and competition to foster community spirit.143 Arthur Hogg wrote in 1916 that he was ‘growing younger every day. There seems to be nothing but sport and I am growing to like it.’144 The physical exertion of flying was such that men needed to be at the peak of their fitness to cope.145 As for the navy, sport helped pilots resist the pressures of high altitudes and extreme cold. Exercise was both refreshing and relieving after the intensity of combat as ‘Spin’ explained, and little could prevent men from indulging. ‘It took more than a week-dead cat to stop one plunging into the cool water during these hot summer days,’ he reflected, because the summer temperatures were unbearably high: ‘the simple effort of walking around assumed the proportions of violent exercise and made one’s clothes wet with perspiration.’146 Men took every opportunity to preserve their physical condition, and utilize any distraction from the demands of inaction. Airmen, in particular, also created other entertainment on quiet days. Men from Dixon’s squadron enjoyed tormenting some German soldiers in March 1918. In their aeroplanes, ‘Hay and Osborne chased a party of about 25 men’, Dixon chuckled, ‘and Hay found an old fat man who got separated from the rest and chased him until he fell into a ditch. He came back shaking with laughter about it.’147 To break up the monotony for Bishop, ‘it was great fun to fly very low along the German trenches and give them a burst of machine-gun bullets as a greeting in the morning, or a good night salute ... . They don’t like it a bit.’148 Sometimes Downing also took his aeroplane for a joyride. In January 1917 he went on ‘a nice trip to the seaside’. He flew about 2 miles out to sea and tried ‘to frighten a few innocent boats by firing my machine guns at them.’149 None of these pilots explain why they did not kill the men they fired at, but pioneer manufacturer and trainer Claude Grahame White and co-author Harry Harper felt this was an airman’s duty. When there is no specific target, they explained, the airman should ‘make exploring flights over the enemy’s lines and pick out any position that it may seem worth while to bombard’.150 As

Philpott_Chap02.indd 90

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

91

shown above, aerial combat was detatched from the enemy, so airmen saw themselves as aeroplane against aeroplane. The individual soldier or ship was not an official target, and therefore clearly separated this leisure pursuit from the combat period. Some amusements were even less related to the war, but were ways to cope with inaction. Balfour described a rouse he developed in 1917 to rid himself of an unwanted car: I conceived the idea of selling tickets at ten shillings a piece to my brother Flying Officers who were willing to pay for the unusual midnight view of a five-seater touring car, filled with petrol-soaked straw burning fiercely while shooting over the cliffs at forty miles an hour to be dashed to pieces on the shore below. In this way I raised more money than the car was worth.151 The intensity of combat was not consistent and men, like Balfour, found any means to distance themselves from their daily patrols, and perhaps earn extra money to visit the local towns. Penny’s squadron also acquired a cow as their Commanding Officer ‘was accustomed to having a whisky and milk before breakfast ... . We eventually found a farmer about 16 miles away who was willing to sell a satisfactory animal at a fantastic figure.’ The cow soon became a central part of squadron life with a man detailed to milk it twice a day. However, the morning after a German air raid, the cow was missing; concluding ‘that it would attempt to get back to the farm from whence it came, we went in search of it and sure enough we found it quietly grazing on the side of the road leading back to the farm.’152 The RFC entered its own danger-zones only at specified times, and their life on the ground was spent staving off thoughts of war. The degree of danger only increased with the advance of technology throughout the war and the change to aerial combat. The need to kill was not an unremitting force in the lives of either service and instead leisure periods dominated their time. Yet these were vital to encourage men into combat, whether because fighting seemed ‘illusory’, or that leisure facilities allowed men to form the trusting bonds essential to service effectiveness.

Philpott_Chap02.indd 91

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

92

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Encouraging Motivation: Personal Control A greater sense of personal control gave pilots a unique position. ‘I wanted to fight alone,’ ‘McScotch’ explained, because he was ‘relieved of the knowledge that a mistake on my part would cost another fellow his life.’153 In its infancy as a combative service, the RFC had no traditions or formal customs to rely upon at difficult times, nor a rigid professional culture to mould its actions. Many airmen recalled the complete dependence on machinery and personal ability with affection. ‘To be alone, to have your life in your own hands, to use your own skill,’ Cecil Lewis reminisced in his 1936 memoir, was vital, so ‘if you lost, it was because you had met a better man.’154 The pilot consequently experienced a more immediate and calculable sense of victory, than the sailor who rarely saw enemy craft. ‘Another asset of the airman is that his work provides plenty of scope for the individual,’ Alan Bott wrote in 1918, whereas the individual in ‘most sections of the Army is held on the leash of system and co-operation.’155 Arthur Gould Lee, who transferred from the Sherwood Foresters in May 1916, agreed with Bott, as ‘the airman’s work did demand a particular order of courage ... . He fought not shoulder to shoulder with thousands of others but as an individual in a glove-tight aeroplane miles up in the sky ... . [H]e could easily feel that he was fighting the war by himself.’156 W. T. Blake therefore realized that the pilot’s individuality and confidence kept them fighting. ‘Moral [sic] is of a great deal more importance thousands of feet above the earth than actually on it, and it is the superior moral of our Air Service that continually gives us victory,’ he explained.157 This influence was particularly important in the summer of 1916 when the Battle of the Somme allowed the Flying Corps to establish aerial superiority on the Western Front. This was partially a result of personal information-sharing between pilots that allowed British planes to fly with relative immunity. ‘We had little idea of what we were up against or likely to meet,’ William Fry insisted, ‘our chief source of information was what we picked up in conversation with other pilots ... higher authorities had to rely mainly on pilot’s reports.’158 The RFC dominance on the Western Front allowed pilots to take ‘extreme

Philpott_Chap02.indd 92

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

93

risks to give the infantry a helping hand’, H. A. Jones explained in his official history of the air war. ‘The contact pilots and observers found that German troops were too distracted to pay serious attention to the air,’ and this meant that ‘no contact aeroplanes were shot down’, Jones concluded.159 Success bred expectation, and by 1917 the aviator had become increasingly relevant to the war effort. ‘Individual skill in manoeuvre was stressed’, historian Peter Liddle explained, so airmen had to understand all aspects of their machinery. As well as considering the effect of weather conditions, Liddle continued, ‘the performance and armament of enemy machines had to be studied and German tactics evaluated’.160 All of these facets reinforced the pilot’s responsibility for the effectiveness of his machine and of his conduct in battle. Whilst the professional culture of the Royal Navy meant discipline and shared customs, the RFC shared valuable offensive information, placing pilots at the forefront of decision-making. Their personal skill led to individual fame for some pilots. ‘British officialdom in London did not favour the kind of publicity given by the French and Germans to their outstanding pilots,’ historian Geoffrey Norris wrote, ‘but during the Somme battle the fame of McCudden and Ball spread quickly through the Flying Corps.’161 The practice of publicizing aces started in the French flying force, initially recognizing a flyer with five victims to his credit. By 1917, leading aces, such as General von Richthofen, James McCudden and Albert Ball boasted over 40 each. Observing the success of British aces was inspiring for members of the RFC, who took pride in their achievements. ‘The pilots at that time were much above the average,’ Lieutenant Colonel Wilkinson of 24 Squadron wrote proudly in 1916; ‘[T]hey were an exceptionally keen lot ... . This keenness infected the whole squadron, officers and men.’162 Whilst naval and army combat involved large groups of men who claimed victories for the whole, the RFC was exceptional in having every man in control of himself in the air and making a perceptible, personal contribution to ultimate victory. The Royal Navy and the Royal Flying Corps had quite distinct experiences of war, and at crucial moments, they relied on varying official systems to support them. Whereas the RFC was perceived to be a service of individuals, each with his own (measurable) role in war, the

Philpott_Chap02.indd 93

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

94

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

navy was self-consciously an homogenous body, in which training and tradition were used to encourage sailors to respect the hierarchy and obligations of their role. Encouraging comradeship and emphasizing the ideals of masculinity allowed both services to maintain motivation throughout the conflict, and assuaged the effect of inaction. So, by 1918, both services had advanced at a rate unexpected by contemporaries. The navy had confronted some of the challenges of twentiethcentury warfare, and attempted to repair its faults. In the wake of Jutland, a ‘new article provided for independent manoeuvring ... with or without orders from the Commander-in-Chief’, historian David McGregor stated, and these ‘new orders authorized the commander of the leading battle squadron ... to press on independently to attack the enemy fleet’.163 Meanwhile the RFC had permanently established itself as a third service, capable of fulfilling much more than a supporting role. Combatants flourished in both environments, and remained committed to winning the war. In maintaining their effectiveness, sailors and airmen strove to cope with a situation in which violence and civilization cohabited. Men could at one and the same time be effective instruments of death and reasonable social creatures. Leisure facilities in particular were essential to the serviceman intent on distracting himself from inactivity. This was encouraged by both the RFC and navy because it ensured men remained physically capable of performing their duties, and reinforced their responsibility to one another. By billeting men away from the war zone and providing them with numerous distractions, periods of combat, as Bishop explained, became ‘unreal’. Yet separation from the conflict environment was not only physical; men also placed a linguistic barrier between their actions and the euphemistic retellings in diaries and memoirs. As military writer Dave Grossman argued, physical and emotional distance helped men to continue. ‘Even the language of men at war is full of denial of the enormity of what they have done,’ he wrote. By dehumanizing the enemy, the ‘language of war helps us to deny what war is really about, and in doing so it makes war more palatable’.164 Both the RFC and navy used this technique to refer to the enemy and their tasks impersonally. By making the fighting ‘less real and tragic,’ men were able to cope with what they were doing.

Philpott_Chap02.indd 94

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

NON-COMBAT & SERVICE MOTIVATION

95

Each of these components supported and encouraged servicemen. Men’s conduct involved long periods of inaction combined with limited periods of fighting; thus, their brutality existed within a cultural environment. As Stephane Audoin-Rouzeau and Annette Becker concluded, ‘the enthusiasm with which peacetime social practices were transferred and sustained ... shows the extent to which the old system of norms coexisted, apparently smoothly, with the anomie of the battlefields.’165 Ultimately, sailors and pilots did not think beyond the immediate situation. ‘Living for the day as we were, it mattered little what we did,’ ‘McScotch’ explained; instead the ‘situation allowed us to forget the war and share the pleasures of the non-combatant far behind the lines.’166 Despite the great differences between the two services and the roles they performed in war, neither suffered a collapse of morale during the conflict. Men continued to perform effectively, supported by contemporary ideals of masculinity, and the mutual confidence of their comrades, whilst maintaining the essence of their civilian personalities.

Philpott_Chap02.indd 95

3/24/2013 10:31:09 PM

CHAPTER 3 TECHNOLOGY

The First World War is often considered to be the first mechanised conflict because the combination of several innovations, including aeroplanes and submarines, changed the breadth and depth of warfare.1 This chapter examines the relationship between combatants and their weapons, through current debates in the the history of technology. The role of machinery is reconsidered in its broader historical context to argue for the importance of the navy and airforce in research and innovation. The Royal Flying Corps was pragmatic and democratic in its approach to development. Despite industrial issues that held up production, the advances that characterized the war in the air were largely pilot-led. This enhanced the professional culture of the RFC, accustomed to informal regulation and personal influence in battle. By contrast, the Royal Navy was in the ascendancy in 1914 and had little reason to pursue innovation. The sailors of the navy did not instigate battle and this resulted in inertia in the fleet and disappointment amongst its sailors. Not only did the armed forces play a highly significant role in the growth of many new technologies, but these were the product of trial and error, rather than sudden innovation. Consequently, this war has much to teach the historian of technology, not least about the involvement of pilots and sailors in the development of machines and systems to engage the enemy. This chapter, therefore, takes a user-led perspective on technological advancement to understand how combatants responded to and led development of their weapons.

Philpott_Chap03.indd 96

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

TECHNOLOGY

97

History of Technology The history of technology is concerned with understanding the nature of machines and how they have contributed to the modern world. Very few studies have attempted to locate that understanding in its historical context in order to explain participants’ views. Generally, histories of technology have been overly concerned with moments of innovation as developmental markers. Less attention has been paid to user-led notions of technology and the continuing use of items, long after they were ‘new’. For example, the aeroplane is cited as one of the major inventions of the twentieth century but in the historiography it remains a static invention of the early 1900s, replaced by a nuclear age and then a space age. The aeroplane, however, was continually improved during the twentieth century, first as a military weapon, and later as a form of civilian transportation. The continuing value of a technology in society and its refinement has been of less interest to historians. Three key issues have driven the study of technological history in the twentieth century. As David Edgerton argued, ‘putting technology into history has not meant starting with history.’ Most historians engage in analytical reflection on the work of others, but in technological history ‘it is surprising how few and far between are the critical references to specific historical arguments about technology or about history more generally.’2 The history of technology is, therefore, not primarily grounded in history. Instead, a number of commentators have reinforced notions of ‘technological determinism’, an almost Whiggish concern with progress and inevitable development. This school of history sees the present day as the apotheosis of growth. It looks backwards at history from a modern perspective and sees technological developments as inevitable. Merrit Roe Smith and Leo Marx have claimed that there is a widespread assumption that technology drives history and the public ‘seem all too willing to believe that innovations in technology embody humanity’s choice of its future’.3 The challenge for historians is to investigate the nature of the relationship between men and machines. In recent years technological determinism has been widely criticised as too simplistic and historians such as Edgerton have suggested

Philpott_Chap03.indd 97

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

98

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

further modes of study. As Arnold Pacey has explained, determinist ideas ‘may seem to indicate an unvarying pattern in the unfolding of technological rationality – a pattern which is independent of the ups and downs of human affairs.’4 The aeroplane is a key example of a technology that has not followed a pre-determined path. No one could have foreseen how valuable and diverse aircraft would become by the end of the First World War because much of that development was pilot-led and not in the hands of civilian scientists. Furthermore, the impact of an invention is the culmination of years of planning and research embedded within the broader socio-cultural context in which it develops. The second key feature of writing on the history of technology is a concentration on the successful work of scientists. Little attention is given to the many failed attempts that precede invention – a process of trial and error that leads to thousands of technological failures. The dominance of the dreadnought in naval warfare was the culmination of experimentation with steam and firepower by naval scientists; it did not appear magically into the annals of war. The strength of the dreadnought was partly the result of numerous unsuccessful attempts to improve the strength of the navy; a successful invention can only come from experiencing previous failure. Even so, invention was not the culmination of development but the beginning. As Arnold Pacey explained, ‘new ideas in technology have come from small firms and even from individuals working on their own.’5 The dreadnought was soon replaced by the super-dreadnought, capable of greater power and with larger, more accurate guns. The history of technology generally fails to account for the evolution of a product both before and after its launch into the consumer world. The final issue for technological historians has been to understand the relationship of the military to development. This has largely been misconceived. It has been assumed that military and naval bodies were resistant to change, so historians such as Jon Sumida have argued that during the First World War policy-makers looked back to the nineteenth century for inspiration. Yet the support of military bodies has been fundamental to technological developments in the twentieth century. ‘Even in 1914, industrial laboratories were rare,’ Edgerton argued,

Philpott_Chap03.indd 98

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

TECHNOLOGY

99

‘but innovation was proceeding strongly. The development of great new ships, motor cars and aviation are, rightly, not associated with laboratories.’6 The aeroplane, long described as a civilian development, was, as this chapter will demonstrate, initially supported by the Army whose investment expanded workshops and stimulated production. The military was also responsible for the refinement of the aeroplane during the war, led by the pilots who flew them. Civilian scientists had little control over the significant developments of aerial combat in this period and had a contentious relationship with the navy. This chapter will examine the developments in technology from the perspective of their users, the men of the Royal Flying Corps and Royal Navy. The history of technology has a significant contribution to make to studies of the Royal Flying Corps and Royal Navy. As stated above, pilot-led developments in aerial combat continued throughout the war, but these improvements were by no means inevitable. The breadth of RFC capabilities by the end of the war depended on two distinct strands of development – one reconnaissance and the other combative. Yet the RFC’s role in photography and map-making did not automatically lead to dog-fighting. Aerial combat was the result of stabilized production in Britain, of systematic supply to the front, improvements in plane design, speed and ceiling heights, as well as more stringent training. Yet none of these things were solely reliant on technological availability and together they combined to form the historical context that has to be considered. Most importantly, an understanding of the role of technology in the lives of combatants needs to include the reflections of pilots who used it. The Royal Navy was the most technologically capable force in the world at the start of the Great War, and by 1918 had apparently floundered, an argument against the Whig interpretation of history. For the navy, the history of technological use is one of great expectation followed by disappointment for those involved. Yet this does not entirely accord with the successful blockade that eventually starved Germany into surrender and the threat of confrontation, which prevented the High Seas Fleet from attempting an attack. What this disparity demonstrates is the importance of the user-perspective. Although the Royal Navy successfully withstood German attacks, the men who fought did

Philpott_Chap03.indd 99

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

100

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

not feel that victory was achieved. Fundamentally, this chapter argues that technology alone was not the determining factor in Britain’s success, but its effective use. As Ernest Braun argues, a ‘ship, an aircraft [or] a car, are all but links in a chain which constitutes the system and are quite useless in isolation.’7 Braun supports Martin Van Creveld’s suggestion that success in war depends on more than effective armour. ‘It is dominated by such irrational factors as resolution, courage, honor and duty,’ Braun argues, but when ‘everything is said and done, none of these have anything to do with technology.’8 Wars are not won by machines; they are won by the men who fight them.

The Royal Flying Corps: The Aircraft Industry The aircraft industry owes its origins entirely to military and naval investment. Prior to the formation of the Royal Flying Corps, a smattering of private manufacturers produced small numbers of planes for the individual adventurer. ‘Many of the pioneer aviators of those days gave flying demonstrations at Hendon,’ future RFC pilot Leonard Rochford fondly recalled, ‘but I think the events which thrilled me the most were the races which took place round the perimeter of the aerodrome, the competitors banking their machines quite steeply and close to the pylons, usually at a height of less than fifty feet.’9 Yet beyond the public entertainments, the future of the aircraft was uncertain. This was a ‘Catch-22’ situation; without investment, manufacturers such as Handley Page could not expand. Yet, to convince the War Office to finance them, manufacturers needed to demonstrate a sustainable business. Without guaranteed Flying Corps contracts, leading producers turned to the Admiralty where visionaries, such as Winston Churchill, nurtured the Royal Naval Air Service. This development contradicts the determinist view of technology because there was no inevitable path to growth. Manufacturers instead acted opportunistically to obtain the support they required. Arguably, had war not come to Europe in 1914, there would have been little reason for the army to encourage the development of the Royal Flying Corps. The Flying Corps had been established for only two years when war broke out, but there was little industry to speak of.

Philpott_Chap03.indd 100

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

TECHNOLOGY

101

‘At the beginning of the war only two contractors were building aeroplanes of Government design,’ the War Office reported.10 Consequently, the effectiveness of the Flying Corps was a significant problem in the early months of war. Initially, the RFC had to rely on French aviators, in particular, to stimulate the aircraft industry. Official Historian H. A. Jones explained the various factors retarding development: (1) the pre-war starvation of the Royal Flying Corps which resulted in a home aircraft industry of minute proportions and small experience, (2) Our entire dependence on the French in the early days of the war for engines and our lesser dependence for aeroplanes, (3) Our pre-war dependence on Germany for magnetos.11 As casualties escalated, and the need to match technological advances on the continent increased, Britain had to establish its own supply. The development of the aircraft industry was inconsistent and largely responsive to German developments. In 1915, German pilots flew the Fokker and in 1917, the Albatross, both of which were faster machines than those used by the British. ‘The advent of the Fokker put new heart into those who flew the older German types,’ R. H. Kiernan explained, which, for the British, resulted in a period of ‘great danger and strain’.12 British policy was to outnumber the German pilots, and to do so manufacturers had to supply enough planes. By March 1917, over 11,000 machines and 20,000 engines were being manufactured and it was hoped that numerical rather than technological strength would be the answer.13 Historian Jonathan Nicholls noted that whilst ‘the British had numerical superiority, the Germans enjoyed the advantages of quality – and not just in the machines themselves, for on the whole the Germans possessed much better pilots.’14 This sentiment was shared by the RFC pilots, who often wrote admiringly of the German machinery and technique. James McCudden wrote of the fruitless attempts to prevent enemy observation in 1916; even when chased by the RFC, ‘the German machine was invariably faster, even when we got up to them, which was very seldom’. Of the same period McCudden felt that the ‘German Albatrosse D1 was very superior to the de Havilland Scout, and we rarely got a look in. The Huns simply

Philpott_Chap03.indd 101

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

102

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

climbed above us and remained until they wanted to go home.’15 Likewise H. H. Balfour explained that their ‘chief feeling towards the enemy Flying Corps was one of envy. Envy that our enemy could be equipped with better aeroplanes than those which we were forced to fly.’16 With the pace of technological innovation, it became necessary for the RFC pilot to rely on tactical strength to outperform the enemy, so recruitment and machine production levels were increased to put more British pilots into the sky. The merging of the RFC with its naval counterpart, the RNAS, was also an attempt to better allocate resources and ensure that aerial superiority over the Western Front would belong to the Allies.17 Although the production rates of industry increased throughout the war, supply remained a continual problem for pilots. Maurice Baring, a lieutenant in the Intelligence Corps, complained that it ‘took more than nine months for anything in the shape of a machine or engine to be available. By the time a machine or engine or the spare part of both were available in sufficient quantities ... [they] were out of date.’18 The process of developing a machine, once requested by the airforce, could be long. As in the Second World War, air staff would compile their operational reports and recommendations which, as M. M. Postan, D. Hay and J. D. Scott explained, would ‘give birth to preliminary designs in anticipation of coming operational requirements’ by manufacturers.19 By May 1915, there were nearly 200 contractors working for the Military Aeronautics Directorate. In total there were orders for over 2,000 aeroplanes distributed amongst them.20 However, only a quarter of these had been delivered. To speed the process of allocation, pilot L. A. Strange had a more effective method of obtaining replacements. He claimed ‘the only way to get anything was to go up to the RFC’s headquarters and sit on someone’s doorstep with a long face ... . [W]hen I had made enough of a nuisance, they listened to my complaints to get rid of me.’21 It became clear that the RFC would need to find a strategic advantage to make up for their technological sloth. Competition for resources between the RFC and RNAS exacerbated problems of supply throughout the war and undermined developments in industrial output. It was also becoming clear that some of the machines being developed needed to be altered by the pilots to

Philpott_Chap03.indd 102

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

TECHNOLOGY

103

suit the purposes of the air services. Leonard Rochford, of the RNAS, recalled an incident of informal technological liaison in 1916: I got into conversation with a 2nd Lieutenant of the Royal Flying Corps. He told me that he had come to Eastchurch to collect a Short biplane which the RFC had taken over from the RNAS ... . The RFC were about to be equipped with the DH4 two-seater, a very fine bomber/reconnaissance aeroplane ... but they had difficulty obtaining the Rolls-Royce water-cooled engine with which it was powered ... . The War Office got over the difficulty by buying the Shorts, flying them to an RFC aerodrome where the engines were taken out and fitted to the DH4’s while the airframe was scrapped.22 The air services had officially cooperated throughout the war on the Home and Western Fronts, as well as on long-distance bombing missions, but these were usually casual agreements between members of the services.23 By 1918, it was necessary to formalize their relationship and to utilize Britain’s resources more effectively. The formation of the Royal Air Force had a lasting impact on the management of aviation. With production focused on supplying one service, it became possible to produce the volume of machinery necessary to overwhelm the enemy.24 Consequently, the role of the aircraft industry within the history of technology should be reconsidered. Not only was it initiated and sustained by military investment, but it also showed continual improvement.25 Britain’s aircraft development was reactive to German invention and without the drive offered by war, Britain would have remained amongst the small manufacturers. What is significant about the response of the aircraft industry to the First World War is the reliance on numerical advantage to defeat the enemy and the use of its pilots to push technological development.

The Effect of Technological Invention: Aerial Views Missing from the history of technology is an understanding of how combatants responded to the machinery and equipment issued to

Philpott_Chap03.indd 103

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

104

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

them. For the men of the Royal Flying Corps, this was an especially important aspect of their war experience because they were closely involved in the improvement and effective use of aviation technologies. The first purpose of the pilot was observation and from the early months of war men became increasingly skilled in decoding the aerial panorama. Charles D. Smart, flying over Herbuterne in February 1917, described the bewildering view: A straffed [sic] village looks very peculiar from the air when there is snow on the ground; Herbuterne reminded me of a model village made in chocolate that had been nibbled by mice. Everything was wonderfully clear at 3,500 ft ... . The stump of the church spire still stands and looks like a badly damaged pencil point.26 Smart’s role was to recognise the strategic value of his surroundings and to relay that information to the ground forces for ranging the artillery. To understand this vital intelligence, Smart was trained to recognise the strange terrain with its craterous surface and camouflaged German bases.27 Smart’s position as an observer was a consequence of aeroplane development that brought a new aspect to warfare. Inventions rarely stand alone, and often have multiple effects on their historical contexts. Observation was the basis of the new breed of cameras that photographed the Western Front during the war, becoming the most reliable of intelligence tools. As the demand for images of enemy positions grew, the pilots of the Royal Flying Corps were instrumental in developing the effectiveness of cameras and speeding print delivery. The No 3 Squadron was among the first to recognize the camera’s value, and with supplies unforthcoming, resorted to buying their own.28 It took time for photographs to become integral elements of intelligence gathering, but as the use of cameras became more commonplace, ‘the wing sections were getting overburdened and there were unavoidable delays in the delivery of prints’, H. A. Jones recalled. With the changeable nature of warfare, this meant that ‘prints reached the units too late for full advantage to be taken of the new information they

Philpott_Chap03.indd 104

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

TECHNOLOGY

105

revealed’. The solution, Jones continued, was to establish efficient processing units in each Corps so that by mid-April 1916, data was available almost instantly at the Front. 29 The utilization of the camera in this period is an excellent example of an old invention finding a new role. This is relevant to the history of technology for two reasons. First, it demonstrates the military reinvention of the camera, and second it shows that development was not pre-determined. Pilots, in fact, admitted to having a limited scientific understanding of photography. Instead, they used the camera without any real scientific knowledge, as Colonel N. M. McLeod revealed in 1919: Those of us who engaged on plotting aeroplane photographs had never seen or thought of such a thing before and when photographs arrived we had not time to think out the theoretically best way of using them. The early methods, undoubtedly, were not the best and it is only lately that we have really had time to go into the matter from a theoretical point of view.30 Pilots recognized the potential value of the camera and began to improve it by an uncertain process of trial and error, as McLeod suggests. This flexible attitude to development allowed 127,000 aerial photographs and 3,900,000 prints to be made in 1917 alone. Half a million photographs had been taken by the end of the war and were invaluable to the British army.31 Improved observational and photographic techniques also led to the development of the aerial map, which became a valuable guide to the battlefield. This consequence of aerial innovation was entirely the result of the skilled work of pilots and observers. To range the guns and plan offensives, accuracy in mapping was vital, as Henry Woodhouse, editor of American journal Flying, explained in 1917: [The map] must show the land as it is, the exact shape of cities, woods and lakes; the course of rivers, railways and roads; it must indicate clearly the prominent landmarks and the established aerodromes and open fields for landing etc. In short the

Philpott_Chap03.indd 105

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

106

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

aeronautical map must show the land as near as possible as it looks to the aviator from the air. Consequently the most useful maps for the RFC, Woodhouse argued, were pictorial so these had to be renewed ‘several times a day, to include the changes shown by the photographs taken by the aviators from their aeroplanes’.32 Fundamentally, the success of pilot observation led to the production of maps. Both have been overlooked by innovation-centric technological historians. A long-standing assumption in aviation history is that the aeroplane was a civilian invention harnessed by the army during the war.33 This notion supposes that without war civilian aircraft would have inevitably developed anyway. According to contemporary experts Henry Woodhouse, editor of the journal Flying, and G. M. B. Dobson of the Royal Aircraft Establishment, Farnborough, the origins of civilian transportation actually lay in the development of the map and the compass – both military advances.34 Until 1917, Woodhouse explained, each belligerent nation had its own map specifications. The success of the RFC’s accurate observation led to the development of a standard world flight map and then plans for commercial flights. In May 1917, Parliament announced the development of a Civil Aerial Transport Committee to plot the future of aerial transportation. As Henry Woodhouse succinctly concluded, ‘aerial navigation is the only navigation that is international in character, because no natural obstacle can prevent the progress of the aircraft as they prevent the progress of ships and trains.’35 The value of the maps made by the Royal Flying Corps ensured that not only would aeroplanes have an invaluable role in warfare, but also in Britain’s commercial future.

The Effect of Technological Invention: Physical Protection Aerial warfare also had physiological side effects on the men who flew, which meant they also had to develop the means to protect themselves. High altitudes in open cockpits meant freezing temperatures from which the airman had little protection. As with the camera, limited theoretical knowledge of this new technology meant that pilots were

Philpott_Chap03.indd 106

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

TECHNOLOGY

107

issued with a similar uniform to infantrymen. Airman W. I. Prothero possessed a copy of Equipment for Flying Officers, which stated that pilot kit included one RFC serge jacket, one pair of trousers, an RFC greatcoat, three shirts, braces and a waistcoat. This would be insufficient to protect them from the elements, because as airman Herbert Ward explained, ‘an hour sitting in an open cockpit at 10,000 ft could be extremely cold, even in summer’.36 Scientist E. A. Milne flew with the RFC in May 1917 and also wrote about the extreme conditions in a letter to his brother Geoffrey. ‘Yesterday I went up in an FE2D. We topped 13, 500 feet and bottomed 10F [-9C] of frost!’ he excitedly exclaimed, ‘but it was cold, but heavens how I enjoyed it!’37 Such conditions could lead to circulation problems, frostbite, headaches and ruptured eardrums.38 Consequently, men took inventive and extreme measures to protect themselves, as RNAS pilot, Arthur Gould Lee recalled: [I had] the unpleasant job of applying a generous layer of whale grease to my face, especially the parts that will be exposed – the cheeks, lips and tip of the nose – for if they are not protected I can be sure of frost-bite ... . [T]his is all part of the high flyer’s burden.39 Men also wore their own jumpers and coats in layers to keep warm, as RFC pilot W. T. Blake explained: Pilots and observers both muffle themselves up in sweaters and thick leather coats, an extra pair of socks and fur-lined knee boots are donned, a woolen [sic] balaclava is worn under the fur-lined helmet, scarves are wrapped round the neck to protect the face, for the intense cold causes frostbite and the most ghastly mutilations of the features, and lastly, big fur gauntlets are pulled well up to the elbow.40 Little official guidance was provided on how to defend an airman’s health from the altitudes, so pilots were forced to react to the technological consequences of flight to protect themselves from its effects.

Philpott_Chap03.indd 107

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

108

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

The action of aviation upon the body could be emotional as well as physical. This was another unexpected outcome of the aeroplane. By June 1917, after three years of service, Commander William Fry was sent home to recover from the strain of flying. Between 23 April and 21 June, Fry had flown on 118 sorties, logging approximately 170 flying hours. In his memoir Fry recalled ‘that the pressure and pace were so great that the nerves of a number of pilots were a little stretched and nearly everyone was liable to flare up at the slightest provocation.’ Although reluctant to leave his squadron, he accepted that the only cure was to return home to rest. Fry realised that he was of ‘little or no use to the squadron and was probably a liability. I had grown difficult and nervy and by then I had lost any offensive spirit I once possessed.’41 To protect their emotional health, weary pilots were returned to Britain as instructors at the training schools. However, the erosion of a pilot’s resolve took months, sometimes years to take effect, during which time they would endure the physical consequences of flying.42 These effects are as much a part of the history of the aeroplane as engines and bombs. Technological historians must contextualise their obsession with single innovations to understand the many inventions that resulted from the aeroplane. For the pilots of the Flying Corps, invention, development and design were an integral part of their experience of war. Their input was also fundamental to developments in offensive technology that heightened the dangers of aerial warfare and increased their personal involvement in combat.

Pilot-Led Innovation: Arming the Aeroplane The aeroplane was the most important piece of equipment for airmen; it was at once their transportation, their protection and their weapon. Consequently members of the Royal Flying Corps, having a personal relationship with their craft, invested time in improving its efficiency and expanding its potential. Its relevance to the history of technology is manifold; not only does it reaffirm the importance of military patronage in the growth of aviation, but also the role of the pilot, rather than the civilian scientist, in research and development. Many of these advances could only have taken place whilst the technology was in use.

Philpott_Chap03.indd 108

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

TECHNOLOGY

109

The evolution of the aeroplane from a reconnaissance tool to an intricate part of the battle system will be explored in this section. The first offensive use of aircraft was recorded in 1911 when the Italian Air Force bombed Tripoli, but it was not until 1915 that the first fully-armoured planes reached the Western Front.43 In the earliest months of war, British airmen carried their standard service revolver as protection, but as the enemy became increasingly protective of their territory, skirmishes between pilots occurred. In the first six months of the conflict, it was not expected that men would engage with each other in the air, and contact was relatively rare. ‘The chances of actually sighting an enemy were still fairly remote,’ Herbert Ward wrote of 1915, because the German planes ‘rarely ventured over our lines, and even when on their own side, they showed little inclination to become involved in a fight. They had their work to do and we had ours.’ 44 This was a period of reconnaissance development and it was not until much later when technological advances in aeroplane speed, height and guns combined to make aerial combat possible. None of this was predicted or inevitable in 1915. Various attempts were made to fix machine guns to the aeroplane but, whether on the wing or behind the pilot, this resulted in reduced manoeuvrability and the possibility that bullets could puncture the machine. It was the invention of the interrupter gear by French pilot Roland Garros that allowed the airman to fire from the cockpit through the propeller, and it was this system that determined the future of air fire.45 The development of the gun was a process of trial and error that must be viewed in the context of war at that time. Garros’s machine-gun system was rapidly adopted by all fighting nations, but it was the German Army that first capitalized on it when they stole a French prototype. The deadly Fokker aircraft arrived on the Western Front in the spring of 1915 and seriously challenged the position of the Flying Corps. British pilots were more easily repelled from the German lines and casualties escalated. Attempts to replicate Garros’s invention followed quickly. ‘The armament of the aeroplane became more and more important,’ the Air Council noted, and by the end of 1915, ‘nearly every British aeroplane that crossed the lines was machine-gun armed.’46 However, their reliability was a constant problem in aerial

Philpott_Chap03.indd 109

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

110

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

combat. James McCudden wrote to his father about the failure of his guns during a dog-fight in 1917: I have had a lot of trouble with my guns jambing [sic] of late and have lost a lot of Huns over it ... . This morning I got twenty yds behind a Hun, and took a sight of the back of his neck and pulled the triggers, and neither gun fired a single shot and while I was rectifying the stoppages, the Hun got away.47 What is interesting about McCudden’s statement is that it not only demonstrates the continuing problem of effectiveness in British manufacture, but more importantly it also hints at the superiority of the British airman on the Western Front. In this situation, McCudden’s position was extremely vulnerable. He was close to an enemy aircraft with no means of defending himself – yet the German pilot flew away rather than turning to shoot McCudden. Whilst the gun had a significant influence on the future of aerial warfare, it was the effective use of technology by the pilots of the Flying Corps that distinguished them from their more advanced German counterparts. Using their technology in a ‘system’ was the RFC’s most significant tactic. As technological historian Ernest Braun has argued, technologies ‘tend to form clusters which operate as systems’.48 Whilst in the large scale of war the airforce is only one link in the overall strategy, Braun’s argument can be applied to suggest that the various elements of aerial combat formed a micro-system governed by the pilot. The most effective demonstration of this was the development of the scout fighter squadron, which arrived on the Western Front in February 1916. The advanced squadrons were comprised of the single seater DH2 made by the De Havilland factory, with a flexible Lewis gun. This plane were lighter and faster than the German Fokker, with a wingspan of 28 feet (compared to the 47 feet of a standard FE2d reconnaissance plane). The DH2 was quickly followed by the more famous Sopworth Pup, which at just 26 feet in wingspan could reach over 100 miles per hour. The job of these squadrons was to escort reconnaissance planes in formation and to protect them from enemy fire. For the history of technology this should signify the continuing importance

Philpott_Chap03.indd 110

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

TECHNOLOGY

111

of the reconnaissance machine. Aerial growth, therefore, was not an inevitable push towards aggressive combat, but came from the need to implement a system to protect observation, which was the primary purpose of the Royal Flying Corps throughout the war. Developing the system was largely the work of the scout pilots who spent time enhancing their machines to offer better, more tailored performance. The effective system developed between the reconnaissance and fighter machine was a winning strategy for the RFC which developed an excellent relationship amongst its pilots. Alan Bott, stationed in France in 1916, was full of praise for his companions who protected him during sorties over enemy territory: Thanks to them, our aircraft were able to carry out reconnaissance, artillery observation and photography with minimum interruption, while the German planes were so hard pressed to defend their place in the air that they could seldom guide their own guns or collect useful information.49 During 1916, this effective system facilitated aerial victory in the Somme campaign. This was enhanced by increased recruitment and production that put more British planes in the sky.50 Germany, however, was not defeated and the next leap in technological power led to the first consistent bout of aerial fighting – the dogfight. Again, it was Germany who produced the next generation of fighting machine with the introduction of the Albatrosse in 1917, which exceeded British capabilities. The planes arrived at the Front in April (later termed ‘Bloody April’) and the losses they inflicted meant that the Royal Flying Corps came closer to losing the war than at any other time. The ‘Flying Circus’ led by Baron von Richthofen decimated British formations, killing and wounding hundreds of pilots in a month. For March 1917 the War Office recorded 180 pilots killed, wounded or missing; just four weeks later on 27 April the monthly rate had leapt to 343, and for May was 361.51 The system that had served the Flying Corps in the previous year was no longer applicable. Contemporary biographers R. H. Kiernan and Walter Briscoe recorded that the RFC fighter pilot ‘came to be familiar with death

Philpott_Chap03.indd 111

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

112

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

and terror’. They frequently saw ‘men burned in the air; men blinded and falling in mad spirals for miles in the sky, shattered men in ugly wreckage; men capable of heroic self-sacrifice.’52 The nature of aerial warfare had changed, and the relatively safe era of reconnaissance was replaced with a more dangerous period. This affected the developments that took place. Whilst the gun was produced at a relatively safe time in the war, by 1917 not only were there two distinct roles for the airmen, but the dangers of aerial combat were also beginning to be recognized. The dogfight was a highly unpredictable encounter and the RFC was ultimately better at exploiting it. As the Flying Corps had aerial superiority for much of the war, the majority of encounters happened over German lines and there were consequently far fewer German pilots captured as prisoners of war. Rules were developed to help the airman control these encounters and protect the reconnaissance machines. In 1916 pilots were advised by the Flying Corps to remain ‘about 2,000 feet or more above’ the enemy and to use three or four escorts, two of which ‘should be as high as they can get, up to about 12,000 to 13,000 feet, and the remaining ones 1,000 to 2,000 feet above the slow machines’.53 However, this was a guide and pilots still experienced confusion. McCudden, in a letter to his father, enthused at having ‘four huns [sic] in the air to-day, and had two scraps. I sent one Hun down in a very steep dive but did not see him hit the ground because I was attacked by another Hun behind me, and he attracted all my attention.’54 Despite the superiority of the German machine, McCudden’s adventure shows the confusion of aerial fighting and the rapid reactions necessary to survive. Fellow pilot Alan Bott explained that: the faculties must be concentrated on opening the attack, since an air duel is often decided in the first few seconds at close quarters. What happens in these few seconds may depend on a trifle ... . An airman should regard his body as part of the machine when there is the prospect of a fight, and his brain which commands the machine must be instinctive with insight into what the enemy will attempt.55

Philpott_Chap03.indd 112

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

TECHNOLOGY

113

Formation flying meant that there could be as many as 40 coordinated planes in the air at one time, all bent on destroying their opponents, so Britain’s pilots had to use their tactical advantage to outwit the enemy’s superior planes.56 To succeed, the RFC advised, it was necessary for all machines in the formation to be of similar types and for men to above all ‘to “KEEP STATION” [sic] especially in reconnaissance and escort work. The enemy’s tactics are based on attack on stragglers. A well kept formation is rarely vigorously assaulted.’57 By late 1917, the aircraft industry was producing machines at an expanding rate to ensure all pilots in the formation used a similar machine, and would soon allow the RFC to numerically overwhelm their opponents.58 Historians of technology have also failed to explore the influence of national culture on the modes of development. In the final year of war, the RFC exploited the German preference for order. As Briscoe and Stannard explained, German pilots liked ‘to carry out rigidly the rules of the game it has been trained to’.59 To counter the technological advantage of von Richthofen’s men, the RFC established a squadron of handpicked highly-skilled pilots who could upset the German formations and introduce an element of chaos. The greatest asset of No. 56 Squadron was its unpredictability. As Briscoe and Stannard explained, the squadrons ‘were quicker to adapt themselves to circumstances of the moment than their opponents.’ Facilitating their success were the latest fighters from the SE5 series that matched the prowess of the German machine, in the hope that their combination of skill and technology would triumph. McCudden adapted his SE5a to suit his style of flying and this was typical of the flexible attitude of the pilots, not only to the machine they flew but also to how they flew it. As noted by William Fry in the previous chapter, men shared information as part of their professional culture because their commanders, who rarely flew, did not have the same level of technical knowledge to advise.60 This was a great asset to pilots like Alan Bott who felt their work provided ‘plenty of scope for the individual who in most [other] sections of the Army is held on the leash of system and co-operation’.61 Starved of resources and lacking initiative, the German air force was unable to respond to the overwhelming numbers and unpredictability of British planes.

Philpott_Chap03.indd 113

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

114

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

So what does all this mean for the history of technology? Armed aircraft development throughout the war was intermittent. The RFC was largely responsive to German developments in machinery. Although guns ultimately led to dogfighting, this was not inevitable. Many of the developments in aerial capabilities grew out of their particular historical context, and it is for good reason that dogfights could not occur earlier in the war. They were partly the product of war experience, of the need to maintain observational intelligence-gathering, of industrial capabilities, and most importantly, of the work of pilots in developing skilled flight. Though technology improved by the end of the war and had become integral to the combat system, it was the effectiveness of the RFC pilot that made that possible. It had been assumed that aircraft would have a minor role in the war, and so it would have, without the inventive and flexible British airmen who created a position for it.

Pilot-Led Innovation: Aerial Bombardment Aerial bombing had been considered before the war, and although trials had taken place throughout the conflict with British bombs used in India in 1915 and Egypt in 1916, it was not until 1917 that circumstances combined to make this a reality in Europe for the Flying Corps.62 Germany had conducted air raids over Britain as early as 1915 but these were carried out in quite different circumstances and by airships.63 As with armaments, the first experiments with bombing relied on the nous of the pilot in developing a system for reaching his target. Early attempts were unsuccessful; nonetheless, pilots were confident. Commander William Fry recalled his certainty that the new bombing squadron would be successful: this had the distinction of being the first real attempt at organising bombing from the air in war ... . [T]he general atmosphere was one of confidence buoyed up by optimistic communiqués.64 To enhance its manpower during raids, the RFC cooperated with the RNAS but its optimism soon faded when faced with the realities of

Philpott_Chap03.indd 114

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

TECHNOLOGY

115

flying over the German lines. C. P. O. Bartlett of the RNAS recorded the dangers of his 1916 mission in his memoir: [I] Loosened off my bombs over the objective and was immediately picked up by searchlights ... . [D]ive, dodge and turn as I would, could not shake them off. Several guns were quickly on to me and for some two or three minutes I had an extremely lively time. The air seemed full of bursting shells.65 At this stage of the war, men were throwing bombs over the side of the aircraft, leaving them in a position of danger, having to simultaneously control the machine, avoid enemy reprisals and effectively deposit their volatile load. There were still several major technological issues to solve if bombing was to become a significant feature of the war. Accurate navigation was the first problem for pilots whose instruments were largely ineffectual. The compass in particularly was vastly inadequate as G. M. B. Dobson, from the Royal Air Craft Establishment in Farnborough, explained: Unfortunately this is ... perhaps, the least satisfactory instrument on the aeroplane ... [T]here is no possibility of a complete and simple solution ... . [with] particular conditions of vibration ... . a pilot may turn left while the compass may lead him to believe his is turning right. Dobson, who worked in aircraft construction during the war, concluded that although ‘instruments are now available which enable an aeroplane to be flown in a given direction through the air [sic] with an accuracy amply sufficient for present requirements’, it was the effect of wind and drift that continued to be problematic.66 Dobson, writing in 1920, suggests that no solution could be found to this problem during the war and pilots had to navigate as well as they could with the instruments they had. As with the camera, there was little time to work on the theoretical background of the compass, so pilots managed with limited technology. Long-range bombing of German industry could not be carried out until an effective solution was found that would enable pilots to release

Philpott_Chap03.indd 115

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

116

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

bombs from the cockpit whilst in flight. As with many elements of technology during the war, inventions were a product of their contemporary context and were not inevitable. The leading aircraft manufacturers, such as De Havilland, developed bomber aeroplanes at the Royal Aircraft Factory and at the Aircraft Manufacturing Company (AIRCO) for the Flying Corps, with the DH4 in particular becoming one of the leading bombers of the First World War. It had racks beneath the fuselage to carry the bombs whilst the release mechanism could be activated from the cockpit. This eventually formed the basis of longer-range bombing. The first attempts were carried out on the iron foundry in Saarbrucken in October 1917 and pilots were able to hit buildings and a railway line.67 Subsequently, the elite squadron was provided with the latest equipment for the 300-mile round trip into Germany and they achieved some success. Long-range bombing in aeroplanes was a relatively new possibility. Germany had reached Britain repeatedly in the Zeppelin airships but could not introduce a bomber-plane until the Gotha in 1917, and that only reached the south of England.68 British bombing attempts during the war were only possible once an effective plane had been developed and pilots had the skills to fly for several hours. As with the Fokker in 1915, it seemed that Germany technology led the way with the Gotha, and Britain followed. The human element was once again important in the growth of bombardment. Not only did pilot skill make the new bombs and planes effective, but their accuracy made them feared. The occasional sound of the enemy bomber overhead was an unnerving experience for a pilot, as H. H. Balfour confessed: We ourselves were terrified of being bombed ... every night the Gothas would come over ... and on the first sounds of their engines no one was quicker to get into the emergency trenches than were the pilots of our Squadron. I know of no more terrifying experience than being bombed on the ground.69 In the air, pilots were in control, being able to use their skill and experience to evade the enemy, but when grounded in the aerodrome,

Philpott_Chap03.indd 116

3/24/2013 10:31:27 PM

TECHNOLOGY

117

they felt vulnerable. The true value of bombardment, in all theatres of war, was the effect it had on servicemen and civilians, in particular the sense of powerlessness it created.70 For the historian this suggests that technologies become significant mainly by the impact they have on people. The Great War pilot was a key figure in the history of technology and their accounts of the conflict demonstrate their role in development and innovation. British pilots can be credited with expanding the role of the military aeroplane and assuring its future in the twentieth-century. At the start of this conflict, the Royal Flying Corps had an insignificant role and little was expected from it. By 1918, it had become a central and permanent addition to Britain’s armoury. In the Second World War, the role of the RAF in assisting the development of suitable weapons was crucial. As historians Postan, Hay and Scott have shown, war meant ‘a new class of operational evidence was opened by reports’, and these came ‘to form the main fund of the collective operational experience of the Royal Air Force’.71 By taking this userled perspective on the development of the aeroplane, historians gain a greater insight into the ways innovation occurred and the systems that needed to be created to make the technology effective. Fundamentally, it is the pilots rather than the aeroplanes that should be of interest to historians of technology because they determined and developed the future of aerial combat. Re-evaluating the evolution of the aeroplane to consider the human element will give greater relevance to the history of technology and its anonymous accounts of growth.

The Royal Navy The Royal Navy was the most technologically advanced service at the start of the First World War but unlike the Royal Flying Corps, the breadth of its resources and research exceeded any other country. Much of the history of naval technology in this period has focused on the now mythical ‘arms race’ that historians have seen through a deterministic lens. For example, historian Paul Halpern explained that the Great War was ‘preceded by a generation of navalism ... . This attention was fuelled by the popular press, which tended to present warships

Philpott_Chap03.indd 117

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

118

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

as the most advanced product of the science and technology of the machine age.’72 Far less attention has been paid to the 1914–1918 period and human experience of technological development in this period. Instead, technological historians are fascinated by the dreadnoughts, which were introduced around 1906, and quickly replaced by the super-dreadnought. By 1914, this ship had placed the Royal Navy far in advance of her competitors. Britain had significantly more ships than Germany with greater power. ‘Seen from a tactical point of view,’ historian Martin Van Creveld argued, ‘each successive generation of battleships built after 1870 added speed, carried bigger guns and had better armour protection with the result that each was capable of blowing their predecessor out of the water.’73 The problem, for Van Creveld, was the navy’s strategic deployment of these monsters, whose very bulk made them inflexible and more complicated than former sailing ships. The period of development for these machines differed greatly from that possible in wartime. This section of the chapter will re-evaluate the navy’s role through the testimony of the men in its service. The arms race has emerged as a more significant event in naval history than the war itself. Technological historians have been particularly interested in the number of developments that were created in an atmosphere of exaggerated fear and concerns for the future of the Empire. Much rested on the performance of the navy in a future conflict and Lord Fisher, First Sea Lord from 1906, initiated a series of technological advances to ensure the navy retained its advantage over its competitors. Significantly, these were based on the opinion of the men who were using them, as Lord Fisher recalled: I was virulently attacked for selecting young officers as consultants ... . Physical endurance alone necessitated it, so it was but just that those who were going to do the fighting should determine the weapons. The improvements were not linear but resulted from a process of trial and error, combined with rediscovered older technologies. ‘There were two thousand more misses than hits,’ Fisher continued, and ‘the

Philpott_Chap03.indd 118

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

TECHNOLOGY

119

fighting ships were the emanations of the past – museums of guns and samples of hulls.’74 These were entirely naval developments and ones that involved cooperation across the service. Invention, historian Jon Sumida explained, was ‘carried out by informal communications between members of the board, various technical departments and subdepartments, occasionally an ad hoc committee, and even with individuals or bodies outside of the Admiralty altogether.’75 The relevance of the dreadnought to the history of technology is not the exciting new power it unleashed, but the combination of human activity and research that made it possible. The navy’s role in the First World War is often seen as being unremarkable and defensive. Whilst it is true that there were few encounters with the enemy, the role of the navy in the Great War was primarily to blockade German trade and restrict access to all kinds of supplies. This in itself was an aggressive form of warfare affecting both military and civilian populations. Historians have seen this type of warfare as a failure because both the media and the sailors wrote in disappointed terms about their achievements.76 Some historians have suggested that the conservatism of the navy after the outbreak of war, and its initial failure to utilize its submarines and aeroplanes, was somehow reflective of widespread decline in the industry. Fundamentally, argued Corelli Barnett, ‘it was the Victorian navy that fought at Jutland. The Victorian navy had forgotten it was a fighting service,’ and its officers were unschooled in technical progress and relying on an eighteenth-century command structure that produced a ‘decadence hardly matched in any force of modern times’.77 Richard Hough agreed, explaining that the ‘inability of the Royal Navy to wage war successfully in 1914 had many causes, from unsuitable materiel to lack of imaginative leadership, from inadequate preparations to a deepseated and abiding national arrogance.’78 In fact, for the Royal Navy, the opposite was the case; it held a position of vast superiority over an enemy that was unable to engage in an obvious battle. Meanwhile, it continued to experiment with a variety of subsidiary technologies. Many of these trials failed because the navy lacked the opportunity to refine them in combat. Poor relations between naval and civilian scientists also inhibited progress, but this does not indicate that the navy

Philpott_Chap03.indd 119

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

120

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

was unable to fight the war. The next section examines the multiple technological developments during the war and, despite their diversity, how they came to be viewed by participants.

Preparing a Base Though technologically prepared for war, the navy had little opportunity to develop suitable naval bases. As in the airforce, new developments in industry were slow, but this was largely due to the technological surplus engendered by the arms race. In peacetime, men had been stationed in heavily fortified bases in England, but to blockade German ports, they had to relocate to Scapa. Scapa Flow was a fairly remote naval hub. This was a great disappointment to officers who were used to the comforts of Devonport or Portsmouth. To make Scapa habitable took many years, and it is unsurprising that combatants felt that developments were slow. The cheerier recordings of Admiral Sir Roger Keyes, who recalled a day’s shooting, however contrast with the bleakness described by historians: There were any amount of volunteer beaters among the midshipmen and lower deck, and we always took a signalman to watch the ship ... [A]t Scapa there was never the slightest risk of not returning in good time, when the ships were at four hours notice ... . Those days at Scapa will always be a happy memory and it was a wonderfully restful and healthy life.79 The developments at Scapa represent a process driven by the men of the station. It was their initiative and investment that transformed Scapa. Further distractions enjoyed by Keyes included a golf course, with each hole designed by a different ship; there was a shooting range for officers and men to practice their gunnery skills and ‘an annual Grand Fleet boxing championship, which drew 10,000 cheering spectators’, historian Robert Massie explained. As training theorist H. W. Richmond suggested in the 1930s, educational activities were encouraged, including regular lectures, tours of the Western Front and evening classes.80 The development of Scapa, therefore, became a

Philpott_Chap03.indd 120

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

TECHNOLOGY

121

consequence of technological refinement during the war. It was a necessary fortification, place of sanctuary and maintenance berth that became as intrinsic to Britain’s system of war as the dreadnought ships.

Civilian Scientists and National Defence Developments in technology have often been attributed to civilian rather than military scientists, with the latter seen as generally uninterested in progress. In his criticism of the technocratic argument, Edgerton explains that this has involved ‘the critique of elites for not being scientific and technical enough’.81 The Royal Navy, however, enjoyed considerable advantages in the decade before the First World War and had a vast armoury, including some submarines, aeroplanes and the most advanced battleships in the world. Growth was slow at the start of war, partly because Britain’s marine superiority prevented German attacks, but also because there were proprietorial clashes between the navy and inventors. The Board of Invention and Research (BIR) was established in July 1915 to provide scientific advance to military bodies, most especially to the Royal Navy. The relationship was uneasy because the navy was unwilling to share vital information with those outside its narrow circle. The feeling in the navy, expressed by Commodore Hall, was that ‘the only information to be given was that enemy submarines were in the sea and that means were required to detect their presence.’82 The BIR was divided into subcommittees dealing with a number of research areas including submarines and defence. The Board contained a mixture of civilians and naval officers, who were in the minority. The Board’s initial role was to sort and test ideas submitted by naval departments and members of the public. The Committee consisted of eminent scientists from across the country-who were experts in physics, chemistry, metallurgy and engineering. Each man was hand-picked and personally invited by Arthur Balfour who was then First Lord of the Admiralty. ‘A panel of consultants ... is being formed to advise on questions of Invention and Research, and in the interests of public service, I hope you will permit me to include your name in

Philpott_Chap03.indd 121

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

122

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

the list of members,’ Balfour wrote. The panel of scientists, Balfour continued, should work in close association with the Inventions and Research Board which, under the Chairmanship of the Admiral of the Fleet Lord Fisher of Kilverstone, has recently been created to assist the Admiralty in co-ordinating and encouraging scientific effort in its relation to the requirements of the Navy.83 Paid expenses only, these invitations were accepted by scientists including Professor H. B. Baker, Sir William Crookes and Sir Ernest Rutherford, representing institutions as diverse as Imperial College of Science and Technology, and the Universities of Birmingham, Glasgow and Manchester. The Board met for the first time on 29 July 1915 when its terms of reference were finalized. It was noted that members could contribute ideas for invention but the ‘most important part of their business would be, with the help of the Departments concerned, to formulate practical demands for new devices.’84 Suggestions flooded in and from July 1915 to December 1916 they received 20,698 ideas for examination, including 4,729 submarine and anti-submarine devices and 5,196 plans for guns, explosives and navigation. The panel considered each suggestion and carried out experiments on feasible options. Members of the board, depending on their speciality, were assigned to each of the six sub-departments: airships and aeronautics; submarines and wireless telegraphy; naval construction; anti-aircraft equipment; ordnance and ammunition; armament of aircraft, bombs and bomb sights. Working with scientific naval officers, the civilian scientists coordinated experiments and contributed numerous reports to the Board for consideration by the Admiralty. Despite the productivity of the Board of Invention and Research, its existence was undermined by a difficult relationship with the Admiralty. In a report on the organization of the BIR by R. Sothern Holland, H. Ross Skinner and Alfred Egerton in 1917, that strain was reported as being ‘a great obstacle in the way of the Board receiving as much information as possible from the Admiralty, and

Philpott_Chap03.indd 122

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

TECHNOLOGY

123

of the Admiralty obtaining as much as it should out of BIR’.85 This was partly because the navy had alternative experimental stations at Parkstone Quay, Teddington, South Kensington, Portsmouth, Hawkcraig, Cardiff, Portland, Shoeburyness, Mullion, Felixstowe, Woolwich and London. Each of these research centres was also testing new equipment but the results were not being shared in spite of instructions to do so. Departments were reminded that it was their duty ‘to keep the BIR in touch with and fully informed as to the technical and scientific devices in use ... and to supply such other information as may be necessary for the investigation of scientific problems.’86 Consequently, the Admiralty sought to centralize this information and regulate the control over research and development. In the 1917 report, Sir O. Murray highlighted that the BIR had ‘never filled the position it was intended to take’ because ‘Senior Officers here were afraid that Lord Fisher would use the BIR as a means of jointing off into the Admiralty, while the junior officers feared they would be deprived of their own ideas’. Meanwhile, members of the BIR feared that losing direct access to the First Lord of the Admiralty would undermine their role in the conflict. So, when the Admiralty drafted a memorandum to all Departments reminding them of the research process, the BIR wrote that ‘Lord Fisher especially took the view that so long as we were entitled to correspond directly with the First Lord and have access to him on important matters, it was desirable that this should be specified in the memorandum so as not to be lost-sight of’.87 Ultimately, in response to the internal politics of the navy, Holland, Skinner and Egerton concluded that that ‘men of the greatest scientific knowledge are not being used to their fullest extent and are being wasted on committee work’. When combined with the duplication of research material across the country, this had led to ‘dissipation of forces and to confusion’.88 Consequently, it was decided to abandon the Board of Invention and Research, redistributing its civilian scientists to more valuable work. Although the board was beset by problems, its existence was significant, not only as one of the first official examples of military and civilian cooperation, refuting the notion that technological development was driven by civilian scientists alone, but in that its work

Philpott_Chap03.indd 123

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

124

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

emphasizes the process of trial and error which contributed to innovation. The navy may have been somewhat resistant to revealing its service secrets to those appointed by the Government but this is understandable given that there had rarely been cooperation outside the service before. The board was very productive throughout the war, offering a number of solutions to the problems of defence in particular. Mines and nets were used to protect the British coast from enemy intrusion but, lacking drive, naval development in this area was lacklustre. ‘British mines were more dangerous to the Navy than to the enemy,’ Official Historian Arthur Marder complained, because they ‘had a nasty habit of blowing off the sterns of the minelayers.’ At best these mines were unpredictable, at worst incompetent. Production problems meant that, in April 1917, only 1,500 of the 20,000 mines were suitable. Some months later, the Royal Navy finally captured a 1914 German mine and was able to build an improvised version.89 Even when key information was openly available to them, the navy was unable to develop an effective defence. Gambling on the threat of battleship action left it unprepared for the smaller skirmishes with covert craft.

Submarines The development of submarines was slow in the Royal Navy because it had placed its faith in the larger battleships. The strength of these battleships prevented Germany from engaging in open sea battle. However, the High Seas Fleet turned its attention instead to undermining the Royal Navy’s power with smaller attacks using covert technologies, which British sailors found much harder to rebuff. At the outbreak of war, Britain had a number of submarines but had not intended to use them. So, when it was forced into utilizing the minor ships it possessed, there was resistance. In terms of the history of technology, the growth of the British submarine was not only the result of German advantage, but an example of trial and error that characterized the navy’s inventive efforts in the First World War. Looking at British submarines from the perspective of a sailor sheds new light on their development.

Philpott_Chap03.indd 124

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

TECHNOLOGY

125

The original British submarines ‘evolved from the American Holland boat’, Admiral Sir Roger Keyes recalled, with ‘five of these being built under American supervision at the works of Messrs. Vickers at Barrow-in-Furness during 1900–1902’. At the start of the First World War, the Royal Navy owned 74 submarines, more than any other power. During the war they were used primarily as a defensive weapon to counter the German U-boat. ‘I don’t think anyone at the Admiralty in those days, or indeed for some years to come, realised the immense possibilities which lay in submarine warfare,’ Keyes concluded.90 For submarines to be effective, they needed to act quickly without regard for their target and it was this attitude which began to alter the nature of naval fighting during this conflict, although it would be some time before submarines were powerful enough to decide the outcome of a sea campaign. ‘The main object Lord Fisher seems to have had in view was to employ the submarine for the defence of harbours,’ Keyes complained. Impaired by a lack of vision, and the belief that only like ships should fight one another, the Royal Navy, as Keyes suggests, gave Germany the advantage in development of the covert craft. Despite their potential, contemporaries complained that submarines were generally used before the main battle. British submarines first saw combat at the Battle of Heligoland Blight on 28 August 1914. Gordon Maxwell was an illustrator serving with the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve and recalled the battle plan. Using ‘eight submarines and two destroyers ... the plan of attack was for these vessels to draw the Germans in pursuit ... into the range of a flotilla of our destroyer.’ The senior ships would then be left to fight each other.91 In spite of German’s declaration of unrestricted warfare in February 1915, the Admiralty refused to respond to Germany’s aggression and the submarine remained a defensive weapon in the British armoury. Edwyn Gray complained that ‘despite the assistance of the Secret Service the Admiralty did not make use of the German designs and our submarines remained at a disadvantage throughout the war.’92 Yet, for the Royal Navy, this was an important period of modernization, as sailor accounts suggest; not only was the navy liaising with civilian scientists to develop countermeasures against the impact of enemy U-boats, but it was also finding limited ways to introduce the submarine into combat.

Philpott_Chap03.indd 125

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

126

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

By the end of the war, Britain ‘had submarines of 334 ft long, 1883 tons surface / 2,560 submerged displacement ... armed with the largest torpedoes in existence’, Admiral Sir Roger Keyes explained. There were also three larger submarines with superior diving power and 12-inch guns previously used for pre-dreadnought ships.93 However, as Keyes, Maxwell and Gray have observed, senior naval commanders failed to use them aggressively. Contemporaries show that the true power of the submarine was demonstrated by Germany in her response to the threat of British battleships, as it was the only way to even fractionally undermine that superiority. Developments in submarine technology did occur slowly but their classification as a defensive weapon meant they were reactive to German advances. British submarines in the Great War, as sailors explained, were used to lure unsuspecting German ships into an ambush, and in partnership with the anti-submarine technologies, formed the largest portion of naval invention during the war.

Anti-Submarine Developments The navy’s response to German aggression was defensive and a range of ideas was tested during the Great War to protect Britain from the U-boat, with varying degrees of success. British submarines, however, were primarily employed to defend the coasts against enemy counterparts, using smaller fishing vessels to create an elaborate trap, as Lieutenant Commander G. J. Mackness recalled: When going on these trawler towing patrols the submarine and the trawler used to leave Aberdeen separately well before dawn ... . Also the trawler used to berth in the harbour well away from the submarines so as to prevent any unauthorised person from finding out that we worked together ... . When towed we used to dive at about forty feet ... . [W]e rang up the trawler at regular intervals to make certain that the telephone was working alright.94 The development of a reliable submarine system was difficult because technology remained relatively unreliable during this period.

Philpott_Chap03.indd 126

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

TECHNOLOGY

127

As Mackness suggested, the connection between the trawler and submarine had to be frequently tested for the ploy to work.95 The navy used this entrapment system before suitably sophisticated technology was available for it to be successful. This is mirrored by the use of submarines to lure German battleships into the range of British destroyers. However, the process of trial and error evident in contemporary accounts was less smooth in the Royal Navy than it was in the RFC, and the plan had limited success. Unlike submarines, the defensive hydrophones were a major technological investment and although much time was spent in their development, they were ultimately flawed. These underwater telephones were considered by contemporaries as a significant weapon to use against the U-boat. The hydrophone worked when a ‘noise [was] made in the water, say by the twin propellers of a submarine revolving, the sound is picked up by a diaphragm in the hydrophone’, naval pilot ‘PIX’ explained in his 1919 memoir. The idea was first mooted in November 1914 and experiments began the following March. Initially, Rear-Admiral William Jameson complained, they ‘picked up sound but gave no indication of the position of its source. They could only be tested when a ship was stopped.’96 Civilian scientist Professor Sir Ernest Rutherford coordinated experiments on behalf of the Board of Invention and Research. In a report presented to the committee in September 1915, Rutherford concluded that the hydrophone ‘is only satisfactory when the ship is at rest, and in fairly quiet weather. Any motion of the hydrophone through the water gives rise to marked sound disturbances.’97 The navy continued to plough resources into the development of this device, hopeful of aiding the fight against the submarine. By 1917, hydrophones could be used when sailing but their ability to locate the source of underwater noise was highly questionable. The hydrophone developers continued to use a process of trial and error to make advances, but with limited success. Their position in contemporary discussions was far larger than their effectiveness deserved, as Official Historian Arthur Marder explained. There ‘were not many occasions when a hydrophone brought or at least contributed to the destruction of a U-boat’, he wrote. In October 1918, the detection of

Philpott_Chap03.indd 127

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

128

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

only three submarines was attributed to the hydrophone, so by 1921 they had been abandoned completely. 98 As contemporary accounts have shown, tracking submarines was a key problem for the Royal Navy and, frustrated by the limited value of the hydrophone, a plan was developed to train sea lions to spot U-boats. Again, the BIR coordinated the research with the specially selected creatures. ‘The sealions employed in the experiments,’ scientist A. B. Wood reported in January 1917, ‘were two highly trained animals which were capable of performing tasks of considerable difficulty.’99 Experiments continued throughout the early part of 1917, aided by the arrival of ‘Queenie’, donated by London Zoo.100 Serious experiments with Queenie and her fellow sea lions began in May, as Commander Kemp recalled: Experiments with two trained animals in a circus were first carried out in a Glasgow swimming bath. Men stationed at various points ... rang little bells and the sealions swam to the source of the sound ... . [T]he sealions went for final trials in the Solent, but here, alas, they met their Waterloo. They seemed to be unable to distinguish between the sound of a submarine’s propellers and those of any other ship. They followed liners, cruisers, destroyers, motor boats, with reckless abandon, but not a submarine.101 The problem was that once at sea, the animals would often ‘play truant’ for several hours, with Queenie being especially unruly. In a progress report submitted to the BIR in July 1917, E. J. Allen, Director of the Marine Biological Laboratory, Plymouth, wrote despairingly of tests with Queenie in a lake: At any rate during the early stages, when the methods were being worked out, ‘Queenie’ became gradually less reliable in her work. From the first this animal had occasionally ‘played truant’, and would altogether refuse to respond to sounds. Once she remained out all night, and two or three times she was lost for several hours ... . ‘Queenie’ became very unwilling especially, to go to the home station, and at the end of a morning’s work

Philpott_Chap03.indd 128

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

TECHNOLOGY

129

when she should have come in, she grew more and more accustomed to swim right away down the lake.102 Similar experiments with seagulls were tried but neither resulted in the submarine tracking device the navy required. Whilst failed plans tend to be derided by historians, these user accounts suggest the increasing desperation of the navy to find solutions to the uncontrollable intrusion of German submarines. This questions whether, even as late as 1917, the navy had a serious grasp of twentieth-century warfare. Whilst the naval blockade was ultimately successful, and the policy of threat kept the High Seas Fleet at bay, technological development during the war was slow. As the sea lion plan suggests, the Royal Navy was frustrated by being unable to confine the enemy with its superior technology and this led to ideas for less scientific solutions. The experiments with hydrophones and animals did eventually lead to an effective method of submarine hunting – ASDIC (later known as Sonar). ASDIC was named after the Allied Submarine Defence Investigation Committee and had a transformatory effect on naval warfare. The device used ultra-sonic waves to ascertain the distance of submerged objects and allowed them to be tracked through the sea. This had significant ramifications for Britain’s defensive naval position because it allowed the Royal Navy to finally consolidate its advantage. The blockade combined with Britain’s superior battleships forced Germany to respond with covert warfare, but if the Royal Navy was able to spot and scuttle the U-boats quickly, it could potentially give them full command of the war. Again, this development suggests that a system was more important than the sum of its parts. The blockade was highly effective but after almost four years of war, Germany was still fighting. Likewise the threat of engagement prevented the High Seas Fleet from putting to sea, but Germany was not defeated. The submarine was the only reasonable method of attack for Germany and ASDIC could feasibly end that domination. Unfortunately for the Royal Navy, this crucial device was not available in sufficient numbers to arm all ships, nor could the navy consistently destroy the submarine if they spotted it, but its future value would be extraordinary.

Philpott_Chap03.indd 129

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

130

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Contemporary accounts demonstrate that the story of naval technology in the First World War was concerned with the development of and response to the submarine. The creation of the Board of Invention and Research meant a variety of experiments were possible, in response to aggressive German U-boat deployment. Despite the navy’s superior technological position in 1914, it was Germany’s unrestricted campaign that forced Britain’s response. ‘The submarine accomplished other remarkable things in the war,’ John Leyland wrote in 1918: She has converted benevolent neutrals into resolute enemies ... . She has transformed the mercantile opposed to her into an actual fighting force ... . She has created a whole array of means directed to her destruction. Countless inventors have been set at work ... . [I]ngenious methods have been employed with the purpose of putting an end to the submarine activities by sinking every boat as she appeared.103 The Royal Navy never defeated the submarine because its strategy and inventive stultification allowed the German U-boat to dominate British research. Sailor accounts show that superior battleship technology was not enough to win the First World War. Instead, the effective use of the submarine was able to undermine the strategy of threat, and transform the nature of marine warfare. *** Contemporary accounts have an important contribution to make to the history of technology. Exploring technological development from the perspective of pilots and sailors sheds new light on the nature of invention and industry during the First World War. Although better machinery frequently became available, this alone was not enough to decide the outcome of the conflict. Inventions had to be used within the entire system of war for them to be effective, so their relevance was often limited. The Fokker and the Albatrosse had a devastating effect on the lives of RFC pilots when they were launched on the Western

Philpott_Chap03.indd 130

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

TECHNOLOGY

131

Front, but it was only a matter of months before effective countermeasures were in place. Significantly, for both the RFC and Royal Navy, these solutions were rarely technological but the result of effective systems. Contemporary naval accounts are often negative, suggesting that sailors were disappointed by their contribution to war. Naval training relied heavily on the victories of the past to motivate men in battle and it is understandable that men expected a more active war than the one they experienced. The technological historian has recently seen the First World War as a period of great naval strength for Britain. Edgerton feels the experience of battleships in this conflict ‘points to the significance of the threat of use, rather than actual use. The British battleships stationed at Scapa Flow imposed a punishing blockade on Germany simply by being there.’104 As Lord Fisher stated, the Royal Navy won the war on its first day and this left them with little drive for development. In his 1919 articles, Fisher claimed that the threat of the Royal Navy won the war, ‘and won it on 4th August 1914, the day war was declared! Our Fleet then was unchallengeable and many times superior to the German Fleet, and the Germans knew it!’105 Contemporary accounts show that it was covert technologies like the submarine that threatened this dominance. Yet, unlike the Flying Corps, the navy did not need to match or exceed Germany because the submarine, though problematic, could not entirely undermine it. For Niall Ferguson, ‘so decisive was the British victory in the naval arms race that it is hard to regard it as in any meaningful sense a cause of the First World War.’106 For the men of the navy, however, this led to an inactive conflict and consequent frustration. The effectiveness of the German submarine shook the Royal Navy’s complacency. As sailor sources have shown, attempts to resist the U-boat highlighted that weakness. Winston Churchill descried the freedom of German submarines and reflected the frustration of combatants: Germany cannot be allowed to adopt a system of open piracy and murder ... on the high seas, while remaining herself protected by

Philpott_Chap03.indd 131

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

132

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

the bulwark of international instruments which she has utterly repudiated and defied and which we, much to our detriment, have respected.107 From the perspective of the sailor, the navy had no opportunity to fight and could not effectively deter the submarine. This focus in contemporary accounts has led to a wider dismissal of the navy’s role in the Great War. Understandably, sailors inculcated with the glory of the navy, who saw their fellow servicemen engaged in daily travails, did not see the technological security of this position. Later reflections on the technological development of the navy have, therefore, become confused. The men of the Royal Navy had little need to fight in the First World War, which was seen by them, and later by historians, as a sign of inability rather than victory. Van Crevald argued that the Royal Navy was so afraid of losing its valuable battleships it was almost pathological, and this transformed warfare in to a ‘highly centralized, cautious and almost timid affair’.108 Likewise, Geoffrey Bennett felt that because the navy had failed to tackle the problems ‘arising out of the transformation of sail to steam and the introduction of new weapons’, this left them believing that ‘fighting efficiency was of smaller importance than spotless paint and polished brass’.109 Such conclusions have incorrectly coloured accounts of the naval war. By contrast, the men of the Royal Flying Corps had a much greater involvement in the developments of aerial combat. Pilot-led innovation facilitated daily flight over the German lines and men engaged in a continual battle for technical and aerial superiority above the Western Front. They effectively established systems for combat that were not wholly reliant on technology. Instead, it was a combination of skilled flying and pilots’ adaptability in the changing nature of warfare that enabled their success. The technological experience of the navy and the airforce in the First World War has much to offer historians. Both services used their technology to create effective systems of defence and continued to experiment with improvements to existing inventions. Though the Flying Corps mostly produced offensive measures and the navy defensive, both were effective. Taking a user-led

Philpott_Chap03.indd 132

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

TECHNOLOGY

133

perspective on these developments shows the airman’s enthusiasm contrasted with the disappointment of the sailor. Yet the latter had less personal involvement in naval innovation and was less likely to understand it. In both cases, technology alone was not enough to win the war; it had to be used in an effective system. Historians have been swayed by contemporary perception of the fighting experience and the next chapter examines a very different kind of combat – on the home front.

Philpott_Chap03.indd 133

3/24/2013 10:31:28 PM

CHAPTER 4 HOME FRONT

It had been centuries since Britain had been invaded, and the security of an island nation fortified by a strong navy was challenged from above for the first time. Immediate protection of civilians, primarily women and children, was an unusual task for British servicemen used to fighting in the distant parts of the Empire. Two air services were given the task of protecting the home front during the First World War; the Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS), which defended the skies officially until February 1916, and the Royal Flying Corps (RFC) that succeeded them. In 1914, the navy assumed control of its aeroplanes and formed the RNAS with 77 machines (40 aeroplanes, 31 seaplanes, 7 airships). In September of that year, Churchill, as First Sea Lord, accepted the responsibility for Home Defence in the absence of the RFC who were fighting with the British Expeditionary Force. Yet, the RNAS were never capable of adequately challenging the German Zeppelin due to the slow technological growth of the navy during the war, and its failure to effectively use the technology it possessed. Lacking resources and tactically unable to match their enemy, the pilots of the RNAS found the conflict had curtailed their development. By contrast, the RFC were tactically more aggressive against the invader and, despite being unable to prevent the raids for some time, ultimately developed a system that defeated them. Though resources were also limited, the RFC established an effective system to combat the German Air Force in 1918, encouraging technological development to meet its requirements.

Philpott_Chap04.indd 134

3/24/2013 10:31:52 PM

HOME FRONT

135

This chapter examines the contrasting roles of the RNAS and RFC in home defence and how effectively the air services responded to conflict. Warfare on the Home Front was quite different to that experienced by servicemen on the Western Front, so this chapter also considers the life of the air services in their daily protection of British civilians, which set them apart from their comrades in France. For the men of the Royal Naval Air Service and the Royal Flying Corps posted home to guard British skies, this was a new form of warfare involving the daily care of thousands of lives below them. With that in mind, this chapter examines the nature of fighting on the Home Front. The argument here is two-fold: first, that conflict over England was quite different to that experienced in other theatres of the conflict; and second that, like the navy, the RNAS had a pre-war technological initiative which was curtailed by the conflict, whilst its defensive use in combat exposed its inadequacies to fight the Zeppelin. Meanwhile, the tactical offensiveness of the Royal Flying Corps against the raiders eventually led to success in repelling aerial bombardment.

The Threat To comprehend the nature of fighting in Britain between 1914 and 1918, it is necessary to briefly examine the threat posed by Zeppelins and Gothas to the safety of British civilians, and to consider the effect of war on the public. In doing so, it will be possible to understand the climate in which Home Front personnel operated, and why the threat was considered serious enough to divert men from the Western Front. Exploring the nature of the threat at home is important to understanding how effectively the RNAS and RFC were able to counter enemy craft and allay public concerns. The British public’s fear of airships predated 1914 and was encouraged by the spy scares and invasion hysteria of the early 1910s.1 However, the first Zeppelin to fly over British soil did not appear until some months after war had been declared. The Zeppelin was an enormous bag of hydrogen, the size of a dreadnought, with a small cockpit attached to the bottom from which the pilot steered the vessel. In 1900, Count Ferdinand Von Zeppelin, an officer from Wuttenberg

Philpott_Chap04.indd 135

3/24/2013 10:31:52 PM

136

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

who had fought in the Franco-Prussian war, unveiled the first eponymously named Zeppelin airship. The German public, impressed and awed by the Count’s designs, provided significant private funding to expand the workshops, and Zeppelin soon became nationally revered.2 At the start of the First World War, Germany owned eight airships (seven military and one naval) and with the boom in production that war necessitated, the construction of ships and bases was prioritised. In the first weeks of the conflict, resentment against Britain grew as the German people began to revile Britain’s involvement in a war they felt was between Germany and France. Consequently, the Zeppelin campaign against Britain became an important national concern for the German people, being both a chance to display the prowess of the formidable airships and a valuable opportunity for revenge against the British people.3 In spite of Germany’s enthusiasm, the raids were considered, under international law, to breach the codes that prevented assaults on unarmed civilians. ‘The opinion of the world,’ pioneer Claude Graham White and Harry Harper wrote, ‘is very definitely against such air raids as these, in which no results of a military importance are obtained.’4 Once the Zeppelin had proven its immense strategic value at the naval Battle of Dogger Bank in early 1915, the raids over England were the next step. ‘For the first and only time in history, an airship was present above a naval battle, providing information for its admiral from direct observation of the enemy,’ historian Douglas Robinson wrote.5 Soon afterwards the first Zeppelin attack was launched in Britain and the presence of the Zeppelin would remain almost undeterred until their retirement at the end of 1916. The menacing Zeppelin had a significant psychological effect on British civilians. The sight of any aerial craft at this time was unusual, and represented the possibility of invasion from the sky, which was deeply unsettling. Pilot L. E. O. Charlton described the effect of the raids in his 1936 memoir as ‘our tyranny during the War. On their account men showed fear before their fellow men and were not ashamed.’ Charlton noted that civilians lacked the training and discipline of their military protectors, thus the Zeppelin’s sinister appearance induced panic. ‘The airship could be noisy or silent at will, motionless

Philpott_Chap04.indd 136

3/24/2013 10:31:52 PM

HOME FRONT

137

or swift-moving,’ he chillingly explained, and ‘their monster bulk, ominously shaped and evil-looking, could obsess the mind and endow them with a fabulous power of destruction.’6 A further indictment of the actions of Germany came from the descriptions of the devastation caused by the bombs. It soon became apparent that not only was there disruption to the lives of those in Britain but they were also exposed to the brutalities of combat. The ensuing years of war brought over 100 airship raids and aeroplane attacks on Britain, with London bearing the brunt of aerial warfare. There were 12 airship and 19 aeroplane raids in London alone, accounting for more than half the total raid casualties.7 In truth, however, the imagined threat was far greater than the reality could boast. Practically the Zeppelin was a clumsy, inexact monster. As historians van Emden and Humphries have explained, their accuracy was poor and any ‘damage caused was more by luck than judgement. Instead bombs were dropped at random, making attacks brutal, if short.’8 The War Office recorded only 498 civilian deaths and 1,236 injuries from airship raids between January 1915 and August 1918. In addition, they accounted for the deaths of just 58 soldiers and sailors, while injuring a dozen.9 But for the average Briton this was the first experience of aircraft, and when combined with the air services’ apparent inability to intercept them, this only added to public fears. Thus their power was primarily psychological, and a result of the RNAS’s inability to counter them in the first years of the war. This only added to the frustrations of a wartime public having to adapt itself to the restrictions of life on the Home Front.

Life on the Home Front: 1914–1915 Life in 1914 and 1915 was tough for the public and servicemen stationed in England. For the first time a number of significant restrictions were imposed, not just to protect the country from raiders, but also to maintain supplies for combatants on the Western Front. These limitations made life difficult for those at home, and it was not until later in the war that people began to cope and adapt to wartime life. The Government responded quickly to the crisis of August 1914, seizing

Philpott_Chap04.indd 137

3/24/2013 10:31:52 PM

138

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

control of the functions of many towns to ensure they would be fully compliant with the needs of servicemen and prioritising the supply of goods and amenities for the war effort. ‘As early as September 11, the Admiralty issued an order forbidding the use of brilliant light on piers, esplanades and public places which were visible from seaward or from the air,’ RNAS veteran Edgar Middleton explained, and the ‘ringing of church bells were prohibited in all towns throughout the United Kingdom, also the striking of church clocks.’10 Servicemen shared the severe deprivations, restrictions of food, business and personal freedom. In the first six months of war, food costs escalated, historian W.G. Neale explained, so that by the end of January 1915 the cost of living had risen by 23 per cent in some places. This was caused by restrictions on basic foods that hugely increased their prices.11 Consequently, by 1917 food prices ‘were more than double the level of 1914’, historian Jon Tetsuro Sumida revealed, ‘while the navy’s cash allowance for food, and general wages as well remained unchanged’.12 To ensure that the navy and other servicemen were adequately provided for, government had to take an unprecedented level of control over all aspects of war production and management. More and more limitations were then imposed on the freedoms of those stationed in Britain during the first years of war. Mrs Peel complained that in 1915 the ‘streets became darker, travelling more and more uncomfortable, prices went on rising.’13 The size of the daily newspapers shrank, theatres and music-halls were subject to an amusement tax, and it was no longer permissible to whistle for taxis between 10 pm and 7 am.14 But licensing restrictions were most widely resented, with opening hours cut and the alcohol content of drinks reduced. For everyone, serviceman or member of the public, ‘it became impossible to purchase drinks save between the hours of 12 and 2.30 and 6 and 8’, Folkestone resident Ernest Mackaway explained, ‘and no officer or soldier proceeding overseas could ... be served. This led to not a little indignation.’15 Pilot T. McKenny Hughes who passed through Folkestone found such regulations laughable: We got to Folkestone at 9.50 & then found that the boat did not leave til [sic] 2.10 ... . I went for a walk & then came back for

Philpott_Chap04.indd 138

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

HOME FRONT

139

lunch at the Pavilion Hotel where you have to pay 3/6 in advance for a filthy lunch with worse service, & to crown it all there is a law that officers & men who are going to France shall not be served with any intoxicant (beer is an intoxicant) on the day on which they leave. You can get any drinks you like on the boat so it is not to ensure everyone arrives in France sober, but to get a drink in Folkestone ... you have to sign an affidavit that you are not crossing that day.16 As a significant port with a direct route to Boulogne, Folkestone (with neighbouring Dover) became the centre of Britain’s plans to transport servicemen to the front lines. The unprecedented level of government regulation in places like Folkestone mobilized whole towns and directed all their endeavours towards the control and support of servicemen stationed in the vicinity. Life in Folkestone during the war was, therefore, a complicated balance of civilian needs and patriotic duty.17 Combatants were stationed at Shorncliffe Camp and utilized the local area for training and entertainment. During 1917–1918 up to 9,000 men per day passed through the local camps, and by May 1919 more than nine million men had used the harbour, either embarking to or disembarking from France.18 Approximately 20,000 recruits were stationed at Shorncliffe Camp by September 1914 and the ‘residents of Folkestone became a committee of entertainment and hospitality’, Reverend J. C. Carlile wrote in his collection of war histories. There were dancehalls, restaurants, sports and library facilities supplied for serviceman. Carlile felt that what could be their final ‘memories depended upon the treatment they received during the last hours’.19 Servicemen stationed at the local camps could not enjoy all these distractions however, as RAF cadet Joseph Bryant explained to his sister: This place is miles from civilisation, the nearest town being Folkestone, five miles away and we’re not allowed there only on week-ends with a special pass. The first day we got here it was pouring with rain and we had to carry all our kit including rifle and bayonet for two miles from a little out of way station ... .

Philpott_Chap04.indd 139

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

140

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

[A]ll last week ... [we] have been shifting all the furniture and beds. This shifting will delay us again for about a month, but still the war is still going on ... . [W]e are not in houses now but huts, and they are none too warm at night.20 Local towns did their best to provide amenities for servicemen and to make their last night in England more pleasant. Yet for the men who were stationed on the Home Front, living with these restrictions, and charged with its protection, the difficulties of their role quickly became apparent.

Combat on the Home Front: The RNAS 1914–1915 The Royal Naval Air Service was formed in 1914, shortly before the outbreak of war. It had previously existed as the naval wing of the Royal Flying Corps before the Admiralty took control. The RNAS was an interesting amalgamation of the RFC and the navy, combining the sense of personal control shared with pilots in the Flying Corps with the tactical defensiveness and hierarchy of the Royal Navy. The growth of the RNAS was, however, affected by the decline in naval development during the war, and by the initial feeling that aeroplanes would contribute little. The Admiralty concentrated first on the development of airships, which would be used for transportation. The policy of the Admiralty towards the employment of aircraft in the navy up to the end of 1911 was ‘one of “keeping in touch” with the developments of aerial flight rather than hastening its adoption’, scientist C. F. Snowden wrote in his 1928 memoir. The members of the naval air service were separated physically and professionally from other types of pilot by their training regime. ‘The Admiralty, from the very first, worked independently, for it felt the Naval Wing must be part of the Navy,’ Snowden continued, as pilots should foremost be naval officers, and regard the air ‘as merely the roof of the sea.’21 As Chapter 1 demonstrated, the navy was adept at creating a strong identity amongst its officers, but the requirements of aerial instruction were quite different. Naval pilots fought alone so were, consequently, quite different to their fellow naval officers, but unlike other pilots, greater emphasis was laid

Philpott_Chap04.indd 140

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

HOME FRONT

141

on developing the professional culture of the navy to unite the service. With this in mind, it is necessary to briefly examine their regime. The limitations of the navy’s flying service can first be seen in the selection and training process for RNAS officers. When ‘PIX’ applied to the Admiralty, he was told that ‘colonials were not required as they made indifferent officers’. A friend advised him to reapply, and at his first interview to come dressed as a private with his flying certificate. At his second interview ‘PIX’ then ‘wore a suit of civilian cloth cut by a good tailor and carried letters of introduction from sundry important people.’22 In line with other forms of naval recruitment, Official Historian H. A. Jones explained, applicants were interviewed by a committee of senior naval officers who paid particular attention to their standard of education, their sporting accomplishments, and to their social and general qualifications.23 The quality of the man was fundamental to the navy’s decision on how well he may perform. Flying officers were no less rigorously selected than their ship-based counterparts, and men were expected to believe in the privilege of winning a place in the Royal Navy. Naval pilots were trained at separate flying schools to RFC and civilian airmen, like the Naval Flying School at Eastchurch, Kent under the command of Captain Charles Paine. Structurally, the RNAS trainees followed a programme similar to that of the RFC but were encouraged to see themselves as a distinct naval service. A series of courses introduced them to notions of discipline and service necessary to create naval identity, as well as understand the mechanical and scientific basis of the machines they flew. But the process was also designed to resemble the rigours of the long naval training for sailors that inculcated values of hierarchy and control through long days of classes and physical activity. The idea was that RNAS men were navy first and pilots second. With this in mind, Oliver Bernard Ellis who was recruited in the summer of 1916 launched instantly into a hard daily routine: 17th July 1916 – Parade at 8.50 in flannels ... and then we were worked in the squads all the morning – a musketry class, and more drill – lunch – more drill – Swedish drill – tea – lecture.

Philpott_Chap04.indd 141

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

142

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

18th July 1916 – Much more to the point to-day. PTI at 6.40 for an hour – breaka [sic] – Parade 8.50 am until 12.15 pm – tea – then Squad drill – from 5.15 pm till 6.15 pm – dinner at 7.30 and then writing up these notes. Within a month, trainees were spending 12-hour days at the engine shops ‘which meant getting up at something like 5.30!’ Bernard Ellis complained on 14 August 1916. Once inducted into the life of a naval officer, the RNAS man could then learn to fly, which an excited Bernard Ellis experienced for the first time on 21 August 1916: The De Roper called for me and gave me an introduction to flying – later in the evening he took me up – flying is some by Jove – you feel so rippingly free and ripping when you get up and the ground is stretched away below you like a map in relief – by Jove tho’ but I guess this will suit me – he gave me control after a bit – but I didn’t make much of it. I kept my eyes glued on to the speed indicator which is rong [sic] I believe – but he reasons that for the first 1½ hours you are generally a bit at sea. I do hope I’ll get into it because I can think of nothing nicer than cruising round in a nice comfortable machine at about three thousand – I don’t think we were at more than 1½ but I’ve got a hell of a lot to learn yet!24 Bernard Ellis’s flying training was completed in November 1916 and had taken almost exactly four months from his first day of drill. He noted that only seven of the 15 men in his class passed the final examination, the pass mark being 40 per cent. Thus only the strongest candidates were rewarded with a commission in the Royal Naval Air Service and dispatched to one of the remote aerodromes dotted across the English countryside. Unlike with the RFC, members of the RNAS, in accordance with their fellow naval officers, were taught to obey orders and consequently lacked the same degree of freedom in combat. The restrictive nature of naval training is, therefore, one of the reasons for their failure to adequately manage the Zeppelin threat.

Philpott_Chap04.indd 142

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

HOME FRONT

143

Combat Preparations: Not Fighting the Zeppelin 1914–1915 For the RNAS, the first year of the war at home involved a greater degree of preparation by establishing bases and aerodromes from which to operate, rather than in developing effective technological deterrents against the raiders. The RNAS started efficiently, as scientist C.F. Snowden explained, by establishing a number of stations around the coast, including Farnborough, Eastchurch and Felixstowe, as the centre of regular patrols.25 Systems to counter the Zeppelin were delayed by these various building projects. The stations of Portsmouth Command were still being constructed during 1915, and ‘comfort was a secondary consideration ... . The officers were quartered in two thatched cottages at Wannock, and the men lived in billets,’ they explained. Further impediments to the work of the station included a water-logged aerodrome and shed, ‘whilst there were no roads or paths giving access to the station. The state of things lasted for nearly twelve months,’ during which time little progress was made in the air.26 During recovery from injury, ‘PIX’ was offered ‘only a few jobs to do such as digging drains, building roads, altering machines, lecturing to the school on machine guns and bombs, building hits for the men out of packing–cases ... and in my spare time learning what I could of theory and practice of flight.’27 Work progressed at a more leisurely pace than in France where, by 1915, RFC bases were already well established and aviation was proving itself to be a central part of any aggressive strategy. Adding to the lack of direction, on 6 August 1914 in a letter to the Admiralty, the Army Council agreed that ‘aeroplanes would not be a suitable form of defence for use over London, and that action in such an area would be almost certain to result in heavy casualties to pilots and aeroplanes.’ Instead guns would be used as the main method of anti-aircraft attack. This plan was clearly outlined in October 1914, in a letter from the Secretary of the War Office to his equivalent in the Admiralty. Furthermore, to relieve servicemen of any initiative in deciding what action to take ‘defence commanders are hereby relieved of the responsibility of deciding as to whether aeroplanes and seaplanes

Philpott_Chap04.indd 143

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

144

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

are friendly or hostile’, it stated. With limited resources, the Council felt it would be preferable to intercept airships on the East Coast and use anti-aircraft guns if enemy machines reached London.28 The decision to use guns rather than aeroplanes to attack hostile craft at home only added to the lengthy periods of inactivity for the RNAS and did not encourage their technological development, as combat had done for the RFC on the Western Front. Whilst the equivalent RFC planes on the Western Front were focused on reconnaissance duties, official historian Walter Raleigh explained, those on the home front were still looking for a technological advantage, largely outside of the service. The RNAS took several steps to find the right machines, he continued: [The] navy, who were further from the enemy, had set their hearts on machines that should do more than observe – machines that could fly far and hit hard. They diligently fostered the efforts of leading motor-car companies ... in the production of very efficient engines of high horse power. In the second year of the war, the Admiralty proposed a competition among aeroplane makers for a large bombing machine and a fast fighting aeroplane.29 These measures were primarily the result of Winston Churchill’s enthusiasm for aeroplanes in 1912–1913, when the first experiments with naval planes taking off and landing on moving ships were occurring. But, as Raleigh’s statement shows, even by 1915, the RNAS was still getting to grips with its new status as an independent service, and without adequate aeroplanes, concentrated instead on developing its bases. The slower development of resources at home meant that pilots were unengaged during the day and lacked contact with the enemy. With little to do, Leonard Rochford recalled being entertained by men such as trainee pilot Ivor Novello. ‘Ivor frequently played the piano in the ward room while we stood around singing the pop songs of those days plus a good many bawdy ones,’ Rochford joked, but whilst a popular recruit, the 23-year-old Novello ‘never appeared likely to get his pilot’s wings and, in fact later transferred to the Royal Naval

Philpott_Chap04.indd 144

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

HOME FRONT

145

Volunteer Reserve’.30 On some evenings, ‘PIX’s’ mess was livened ‘by the frequent visits of a senior officer who, arriving about dinner-time, would discuss flying far into the night, turn out at daybreak to fly any machine available no matter what the weather was like, and then, after breakfast, hasten off to the Admiralty.’31 Yet for the pilots of the RNAS, who could not leave their base, it was the lack of daytime activity that proved hardest to manage. Zeppelin attacks only occurred at night, so like their counterparts in France, RNAS pilots spent most of their time not in action and had to find other distractions. ‘You know life in the RNAS is really a ragtime sort of thing,’ Oliver Bernard Ellis gloated in a letter to his mother in February 1917, ‘here we are – about a dozen of us – staying in an old country hotel – with a whole wing of the building given over to us – treated like Lords – and doing nothing.’ Yet the relaxation soon became frustrating for men trained for combat. ‘These Lincolnshire towns are killingly funny little places – they are all just exactly the same – with the same magnified sense of their own importance – and exactly the same pubs,’ Bernard Ellis complained. ‘We all trooped off to the local Pantomime last night – it was a beautifully provincial touch,’ he moaned, ‘and must have seemed very funny after London shows – to some of the men who had been down to town for the weekend.’32 The paradox of being a naval officer grounded in a country village is important in understanding the situation of the RNAS pilot on Home Defence duties.

Combat on the Home Front: Fighting the Zeppelin 1914–1915 The RNAS pilots eventually made it into action, only to spend their nights fruitlessly chasing the Zeppelins. Pilot L. E. O. Charlton explained that on ‘the Home Front the circumstances were different. Long spells of inactivity and suspense were succeeded by nights of fearful risk, sometimes quite hopelessly run.’33 Even when they were called into action, facing the Zeppelin was an overwhelming task for the RNAS aviator in the first months of war. Even reaching the altitude of enemy craft was a serious challenge, as Amyas ‘Biffy’ Borton

Philpott_Chap04.indd 145

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

146

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

noted in May 1915 when he happened upon a Zeppelin returning from strafing Ramsgate. ‘You’ll be interested to hear that I encountered it in my reconnaissance yesterday morning at 4am,’ he explained, but having ambled across the intruder, there was little Borton could do because it ‘thoroughly scared us off by shoving its nose skyward and going up to 10,000ft. leaving me laboriously toiling after it and with difficulty reaching 7,500ft. Perhaps it is as well I couldn’t catch the thing as I don’t know what the devil I would have done with it.’34 Borton’s note is demonstrative of the RNAS situation; that its men were willing and eager to fight, but lacked the resources and equipment to do so. Veteran RFC pilot Geoffrey Norris echoed that analysis, seeing the airship as ‘almost invincible, despite the increased numbers of guns and searchlights in use on the ground. Aircraft,’ therefore, ‘were practically useless against the Zeppelins, which flew at heights of over 10,000 feet. Defending aircraft took some forty-five minutes to reach this height.’35 London’s lack of aerial defence and the failure of the RNAS to counter the Zeppelin raids had consequences for the public. It is the memoirs of women that offer the greatest insight into the fear the airship induced and what it meant to suffer the raids defencelessly. ‘To the great mass of women in the poorer districts of the metropolis and in East Coast towns, the war as far as they were personally concerned would always mean “air raids” ’, Caroline Playne recalled in her 1931 memoir.36 When the raiders first came to England, it was a terrifying prospect, exacerbated by the inability of those like Borton to protect them. On 28 September 1915, Mrs Hallie Eustace Miles described her fear when she heard the most awful bang, crash and explosion, close to our flat ... . The poor servants were standing at their bedroom door, trembling with horror ... . My heart beat dreadfully, but I wasn’t faint at all. I felt I had the responsibility of seeing to everything, and was the captain of our little flock, and of course this helped me not to break down. I could not exactly describe what I felt. It was such an absolutely new experience. It was frightfully solemn, too, as if the war and the Germans were at our very doors.

Philpott_Chap04.indd 146

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

HOME FRONT

147

Mixed with their fear, and the strangeness of the situation, Miles also described the fascination with which her son Eustace ‘hung out of the open window directly the first bomb fell, and saw the wicked Zeppelin in the sky like a long grey lighted train, and he saw the bombs dropping. He could not bear leaving the open window to go down to the cellar!’37 Unlike Eustace, most civilians hurried to find shelter below the ground. London suffered most heavily throughout the war, experiencing 12 airship and 19 aeroplane attacks. More than half the total raid casualties happened in London with just the guns in places like Hyde Park to protect them.38 ‘They would throng the staircases, passages and platforms’ of tube stations, Charlton explained, ‘occupying every square inch of available space. As many as a quarter of a million would find accommodation in this manner, the able bodied accompanied by the sick and the halt.’ Despite the suggestion of camaraderie, conditions in the underground networks were poor. ‘Food litter lay around, and worse still, to add to the squalor of the scene,’ Charlton continued, commuters had great difficulty in using the trains at all, as they could not get on or off due to the crowds.39 The suffering described by the public was a direct consequence of military failures to deflect the intruders. Throughout 1915, the RNAS remained unable to prevent public inconvenience and although ‘naval pilots did not stint to fly in search of invaders’, Charlton explained, ‘the machines they flew were ill adapted for such service and the armament they carried was inadequate’. Furthermore, the restrictions of night flying meant that the Zeppelins were near impossible to spot on a cloudless night because searchlights were ‘few and far between, and their known locations were carefully evaded by the raiders’.40 Consequently, there was relatively little the RNAS could do to protect civilians. As discussed in the previous chapter, naval development faltered at the start of war and supplies of adequate machinery were slow. There was a continual reluctance amongst senior personnel to accept the aeroplane as a significant weapon of war and allocate resources to its development. Official Historian Arthur Marder described the Admiralty as a ‘cramping influence’ during the first two years of war, adding that only the ‘most farsighted and enthusiastic officers were alive to the possibilities of

Philpott_Chap04.indd 147

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

148

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

naval aviation ... . [T]he average naval officer was not concerned or interested.’ 41 Naval organization also meant that responsibility for the RNAS was confusingly divided between the different Sea Lords, Marder complained: The personnel of the RNAS was under the Second Sea Lord, material under the Third Sea Lord and operations under the First Sea Lord and Chief of Staff – meaning that no naval representative could speak with authority on all aspects of naval aviation.42 With few resources, no defined leader to guide developments and a general feeling of indifference from its parent, the RNAS was seriously hindered in the role of Home Defence. As with much naval strategy during the war, the RNAS employed a defensive strategy against the Zeppelin and failed to develop the means required to adequately confront them. Therefore when the government, through its Air Board, was required to allot resources to the air services, it is unsurprising that machines were allocated to the successful RFC for use in France. It was felt, Marder asserts, that the naval air service was failing in its duty to resist the Zeppelin because ‘the Navy regard aeroplanes as of uncertain value owing to their limited range and the inexperience of their pilots ... . Finally, there was a psychological factor that influenced some officers at least and was but a reflection of the Admiralty contempt for the Air.’ 43 The Royal Flying Corps had begun to take responsibility for some areas of Home Defence, relieving the Admiralty of its responsibilities. The Army Council was ‘willing to undertake the defence of Newcastle against aerial attack from 1st December 1915 and will make temporary arrangements to effect this until such time as a squadron can be stationed permanently at Cramlington with this object.’ 44 The review of aerial provision consequently began to suggest that the navy was not acting offensively against the Zeppelin threat and that perhaps their sister service would be better placed to assume the defence of Britain. This was exacerbated by negative attention from other servicemen. Philip Joubert de la Ferte, a Royal Flying Corps pilot, descried

Philpott_Chap04.indd 148

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

HOME FRONT

149

the situation in a letter to his mother in October 1915. ‘They are swine, these Deutschers,’ he remonstrated ‘& it is high time some real soldiers were put in charge of the guns at home. The Admiralty have proven themselves hopeless in all matters connected with the air service & it was high time that the War Office took the matter in hand.’ 45 The aerial situation was becoming increasingly desperate as the Admiralty no longer had the energy or resources to support it. ‘The navy had their hands full’ dealing with the enemy submarine campaign, Captain Joseph Morris explained in his history of the air raids, which required increasing numbers of aeroplanes to be reallocated from Home Defence. ‘They had no longer sufficient resources to deal with the aerial home defence, particularly if this duty should absorb a number of aeroplanes which were most urgently required for the fleet,’ he concluded.46 Under pressure, the navy occasionally embarked on improbable plans. To stop the raids, Admiral Fisher ‘proposed in all seriousness, that they should take a large number of hostages from the Germans in England’, Marder exclaimed, ‘and declare their intention of executing one for every Englishman killed by Zeppelin bombs’.47 Churchill resisted, feeling that it would achieve nothing but revulsion for English tactics. The increasing desperation of the RNAS led the Admiralty to request to be relieved of their responsibilities for Home Defence, and to concentrate their resources elsewhere, leaving land defence to their Army counterparts. ‘The Admiralty now said it was a War Office duty. ... The army had no aircraft to spare ... . However, the War Office would take it over and do their best,’ the War Committee noted.48 The role of the RNAS in Home Defence was relatively brief and undistinguished. The Admiralty concentration on the war at sea and the use of aeroplanes to support it seriously hindered their ability to adequately protect Britain in the short-term or to establish adequate plans for doing so during the remainder of the conflict. The pilots of the RNAS struggled to meet the demands of their role because they were poorly resourced and not encouraged to build on the pre-war drive in aerial development to destroy the Zeppelin. Finally, after more than a year of war, above 20 raids and over 100 casualties, the navy conceded responsibility for home defence to the Royal Flying Corps.

Philpott_Chap04.indd 149

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

150

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Life on the Home Front: 1916–1918 By 1916, life on the home front had changed. The restrictions in place earlier in the war were still there, but the population had become more used to them, and servicemen began to find new ways to relieve the pressure of combat. In London, restrictions were less stringently adhered to and, as naval officer Stephen Hall explained, ‘London offered the fighting man a brief period of forgetfulness. Patriotism, hero-worship and commercial exploitation held hands, dancing, singing, loving, spending in the merry-go round which swirled about Piccadilly Circus.’ Consequently, he wrote, ‘many of us who were young did not appreciate how cruel we were spending so little of our leave-periods in the quiet atmosphere of our parents’ home.’ 49 By 1917, Soho in particular was thriving and held significant attraction for the serviceman looking for pleasure, as Mrs Peel judgementally recalled: The growth of the nightclub was an outstanding feature of wartime life ... . By the winter of 1915 it was reported that there were 150 night clubs in Soho alone, some of them of very doubtful character. Drinks were sold after hours at preposterous prices ... . But it was not only the night clubs of Soho which increased. Soho blossomed into an important shopping centre ... . The dancing craze necessitated a good supply of dance frocks, and these establishments throve and multiplied ... more money was spent by women on clothes in 1917 than in 1915.50 In contrast to the strict regulations of the first two years of the war, by 1916 the population were experiencing new freedoms, especially in London, that attracted home service personnel. Some servicemen did not appreciate all the changes made to the Home Front in the early period of war, however. Much to his chagrin, pilot Geoffrey Sparrow arrived ‘at the hotel where I had frequently stayed in the piping days of peace, I was somewhat brusquely informed by a fur-coated individual ... that my favourite doss-house was now a Government office,’ he complained. Rushing instead to his favourite club, ‘memories of the incomparable Coon band and joysome dances

Philpott_Chap04.indd 150

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

HOME FRONT

151

flashed through my mind, and I hastened my steps. Ciro’s was there, but how changed! In place of the fashionable club of former days, I found – a YMCA canteen.’51 Pilots on the Home Front both bore the responsibility for its safety and endured its deprivations. The conflict had liberated parts of London and gave local pilots an opportunity to enjoy the lighter entertainments supplied for them. The experience of life in Britain for servicemen during the First World War was far more than fighting raiders and as the Home Front became more familiar, RFC pilots were able to enjoy their leisure time as their counterparts did in France.

Combat on the Home Front: Not Fighting the Zeppelin 1916 Like the RNAS before them, the Royal Flying Corps initially found the responsibilities of home defence difficult. The War Office recorded 22 airship raids in 1916, eight of which occurred in April alone, the worst on 31 January/1 February which cost 70 lives (over 60 per cent of which were women and children) and caused 112 injuries.52 A key problem was the allocation of sufficient resources for the defence of the homeland that would not have a detrimental effect on their work in France. ‘The enemy only need to keep in existence an effective force of between 20 to 30 machines’, the War Office complained, the consequences of which for Britain meant ‘many thousands of men, hundreds of guns, hundreds of searchlights, and about 200 aeroplanes are kept from other war work’.53 Field Marshal French, Commander-in-Chief of the Home Forces, reiterated that complaint in 1917 when he received a plan to reallocate men from Home Defence to night flying squadrons in France that he felt would ‘place the aeroplane defence of the United Kingdom in a still more unsatisfactory position’. Resources were restricted and French was concerned that sending his men and machines to France would mean that the object with which the Home Defence Wing was originally constituted appears in danger of being lost sight of ... . In view of my responsibility for the defence of Great Britain against hostile

Philpott_Chap04.indd 151

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

152

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

attack by air I cannot too strongly impress on the Army Council that the means placed at my disposal for aeroplane defence are now inadequate and that a continuance of the present policy may have disastrous results.54 Irrespective of the needs expressed by French, the RFC airmen did not relish the prospect of home service, preferring to be in France. Used to days of activity on the Western Front, some, like Cecil Lewis, feared the lethargy of life in Britain. ‘But what a job!’ he exclaimed, to be ‘waiting night after night, for the possible chance of a raid ... . Therefore imagine my excitement and relief when I found I had been posted to the testing squadron instead.’55 For the RFC, home duty also meant long periods of frustrated inactivity and men had to find daily distractions in the British countryside. ‘With another pilot, a Canadian, we would take off in our respective machines and scour the countryside of Durham, chasing trains much to the delight of passengers but incurring the wrath of the engine driver,’ pilot F. C. Penny chuckled. On other days, he wrote, when not protecting them, the public became the target of airman fun: Sometimes we would simulate a forced landing ... in a field adjacent to a village and when the crowd began to appear, we would take off and dive low over their heads, scaring the life out of them ... . One of our pilots suggested that it would be good fun to fly through one of the arches of the Sunderland Bridge ... . We found that we would have clearance of about four feet on either side ... . Just on entering I noticed a yacht with tall masts putting out from the bank ... . Too late to alter my course I flew through just missing the yacht masts ... . No one attempted to emulate my rather ‘hair-raising’ experience.56 Although test-flights were officially sanctioned by the Flying Corps, some pilots abused the privilege. One machine in three belonging to each squadron was to be ‘flown each day for a cross country flight’.57 Penny used his plane for stunts to detract from the boredom of life on the home front for RFC personnel who only engaged at night.

Philpott_Chap04.indd 152

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

HOME FRONT

153

On the Western Front opposing pilots were fairly evenly matched in both machinery and tactics, with both air forces driving the other to develop the next effective machine. Yet for the RFC in 1916, the distance between the German Zeppelin and the puny British fighter felt almost scientifically and altitudinally insurmountable. So much so that ‘the steady drone of Zeppelins high in the night sky had almost become part of life for those living in eastern England’, Geoffrey Norris explained: There was no great public despondency over this. The bitterness of the previous year had been overcome, for the Zeppelins ... achieved very little in the way of systematic destruction ... . But there was still the invidious ... thought that the airman could be achieving much more. It was hard for the public to appreciate the Home Defence Squadrons were achieving some success. They were reaching Zeppelin heights regularly ... . [and] were in fact acting as a useful deterrent.58 Still, at this stage, the main anti-aircraft defences were the gun placements in central London and the South East but, despite now reaching the height of the Zeppelins, ‘it was then doubtful if a pilot could ever attack a Zeppelin at night and certain that he would not be able to chase’, the War Office reported in 1916. ‘It was also accepted that pilots would not only patrol and fight over their own grounds owing to navigation difficulties’, the report explained, and this meant ‘the present stations do not form any definite line and allow of gaps through which hostile aircraft can penetrate’.59 Initially, therefore, members of the Royal Flying Corps were as impotent as their naval brothers in protecting England. ‘Up to the autumn of 1916 we were comparatively defenceless against the Zeppelin,’ Official Historian H. A. Jones argued, ‘but the attacks were so spaced that we were given time to get our breath in between.’60 The RFC did make some strides however. Bombs and machine-guns had been tested, but in the summer of 1916 ‘efficient incendiary and explosive bullets were produced’, Jones continued, which meant that ‘the end of the Zeppelin as a raiding weapon was in sight’.61 By the end of 1916, however, the dominance of

Philpott_Chap04.indd 153

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

154

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

the airship had passed its peak, partly owing to dwindling resources in Germany, but also to the increases in gun placements and patrol systems in southern England. In 1917–18, the War Office recorded only nine airship raids, just one of which reached London.62 For more than a year, the Zeppelin dominated the skies over Britain, with 1916 being a year of unrestricted bombardment, as Captain Joseph Morris recalled in his 1930s book on the raids. ‘Germany had a unique craft which exceeded anything her competitors could produce,’ Morris asserted, and if they could break the ‘morale of the British nation anything would be worthwhile. What is the loss of a few airships ... if a war of nations is to be won?’ However, by then the Zeppelin had reached its peak. Suddenly, the magnificence of these craft were unsustainable, they had become ‘Frankenstein monsters’, Morris continued, ‘fast devouring the personnel and material which had gone to the creation ... the material would be used to better purpose for aeroplanes, which were sadly wanting for the defence of the Fatherland.’ 63 The RNAS and RFC had made few effective attempts to counter them, however, and it was Germany who withdrew the airships as a means of attack. Technology was advancing, and as defences improved, Germany turned its attention to developing bomber aeroplanes, forcing the retirement of the more costly Zeppelin.

Combat on the Home Front: Aeroplane Raids 1917–1918 Yet Germany had not finished with England and in 1917 sent over the first spate of aeroplane raiders – the Gothas. Aeroplane raids had been made throughout the war, the first attacking Dover on 24 December 1914 with no casualties. The effect of these raids, and the greater risk to the public that they introduced, put far greater pressure on the RFC to establish an effective system to defend the Home Front. Being substantially smaller craft than the enormous Zeppelin, the Gotha range was largely limited to Kent, Essex and London. To coincide with the devastating ‘Bloody April’ period on the Western Front, where the RFC was already dealing with an attrition rate of 200 pilots a month, the Gotha raids hit Britain with alarming ferocity claiming 600 lives between March 1917 and July 1918. During that period, the War

Philpott_Chap04.indd 154

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

HOME FRONT

155

Office recorded 37 raids – only 13 did not result in casualties. The worst attack hit Margate, Essex and London on 13 June 1917, killing 158 people (43 per cent were women and children) and injuring 425 people (50 per cent were women and children). With this new threat, those serving on the Home Front were once again reduced to a state of impotence. Unlike the cumbersome airship, aeroplane raids could strike quickly, during the day and with greater accuracy than the Zeppelin. The descriptions of these raids show more devastation than those earlier in the war. On 25 May 1917, a party of Gothas, unable to reach their target of London, abandoned their cargo over Folkestone instead in one of the worst raids of the war. Historian C. M. White explained their accuracy meant ‘an estimated fifty-one bombs were released during ... ten minutes ... in an area of approximately one square mile north and west of the harbour.’64 Resident Arthur J. Crowhurst recalled that for ‘ten minutes or so death literally rained from the sky ... . No warning ... was received by the town authorities.’65 Mrs Coxon, who lived in neighbouring Dover and happened to be in Folkestone that day, also experienced the terrifying Gotha attack and recorded the chaos: A bomb fell ... killing the woman I had just seen ... . [I]t was actually like walking through a thin coating of ice on a winter’s day ... . The roads were thickly strewn with finely broken glass from the hundreds of windows that were smashed ... . The enemy dropped their final lot of bombs on Tontine Street, the poorer part of the town near the harbour, where crowds of women were doing their week-end shopping. I was told afterwards ... that it resembled a battlefield – a gruesome mass of severed heads, arms and legs mixed up with the wreckage of houses and broken windows.66 The physical and human costs of these raids stunned the inhabitants of the town and led to a ‘growing sense of public outrage and shock’, White recorded. Consequently, the ‘Home Forces were castigated on every street corner in the town ... . The public was angry because the feeling of security built up following the defeat of the Zeppelins had been rudely shattered,’ he concluded.67 That anger was

Philpott_Chap04.indd 155

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

156

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

directed against being subjected to the full horror of aerial warfare. As Charlton explained: Children were blown to pieces in the middle of their play. A child’s hand and worse were found two days later a long way off. Eight dead and dying women lay at the feet of a police constable, himself in the freakish manner of bombs, unhurt. A wine merchant had invited a friend to sample a bottle. When he returned from his inner room with corkscrew and glasses his friend lay dead with head completely severed from his body.68 These accounts are reminiscent of the descriptions of bombardment on the Western Front with men being injured or killed almost at random and with severed limbs strewn around the trenches. A. C. Stanton expressed his fury that the public was enduring such sights, and the detrimental effect this was having on service morale. In a letter to his wife on 18 July 1918 he moaned that ‘it is rather cool for Lloyd George to say practically that we must grin and bear it, he doesn’t apparently consider the feelings of the men at the front and what they think of the news that their families are being bombed at home.’69 Cecil Lewis recalled the June 1917 London raid in his memoir, adding that despite little collateral damage, ‘their appearance was quite enough to scare the civilian population very thoroughly and raise an outcry’. Again, Lewis continued, Britain was unprepared and the ‘complete German squadron returned home triumphant’.70 In addition to the civilian casualties, the War Office states that the aeroplane raids also accounted for 238 soldier and sailor deaths and 400 injuries. This added to the onus on Home Front personnel to protect the civilians of Britain from the enemy. Consequently a renewed effort was required from the RFC to counter the raiders and allay public fears. Initially there ‘were many gallant, but mainly abortive attempts by pilots of the Royal Naval Air Service and the Royal Flying Corps to intercept the raiders,’ Jones sighed, ‘but few of them had aircraft capable of reaching the height at which the German squadrons flew, nor was there any attempt at co-ordinated flying.’71 With the Western Front being a priority in the

Philpott_Chap04.indd 156

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

HOME FRONT

157

wake of ‘Bloody April’, the RFC struggled, as French complained, to allot sufficient resources to deter the raiders. On the Western Front, the RFC strategy had been to use formations of small scout fighters to protect their reconnaissance machines, but these principles were not applied to the defence of England. Partly, this was a question of resources; the Flying Corps (like the RNAS) could not afford to spare the men and the highest calibre machines for home service when it was desperately short of men at the front. The Gotha raids came in the wake of ‘Bloody April’ 1917 that had undermined the RFC fighting force in France with a massive attrition rate. Naturally, the priority for equipment and reinforcements had to be for the French effort. ‘The pilots who went up to fight the raiders had little to show for their gallantry,’ Jones concluded, and in spite of the great risks they undertook, they were ‘without the compensation of striking a blow at the enemy ... . Apart, however, from these considerations, there was the overriding fact that most of the aeroplanes sent up to fight the enemy were not good enough for the task.’72 The answer, for the RFC, was to use the machines it did have more strategically. This led to the London Air Defence Area (LADA) which became the most effective method of countering the raids. The LADA network was originally established in 1916 and had been in use throughout the RFC’s reign as protectors of the Home Front. ‘The main air defence system of 1918, the London Air Defence Area (LADA), featured the most advanced command, control, communication and intelligence system on earth,’ historian John Ferns enthused. The ground centre would immediately receive reports of approaching raiders from its observer stations dotted around the country, and information could be relayed quickly to the aerodromes to intercept them. The entire process could take as little as five minutes. Morris showed that the system relied on a network of intercept stations along the coast to spot the raiders on their approach and contact headquarters at Horse Guards Parade: When a raid started, all telephones were manned and the information which came to hand at any one station was rapidly passed to all other stations that might be concerned. Similarly

Philpott_Chap04.indd 157

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

158

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

the fighting squadrons were in touch with the Horse Guards and the batteries, searchlights and listening posts in their vicinity. At each squadron and at each group of ground stations there was an operations room in which all the telephone wires converged ... . The operations room at the Horse Guards was an elaborate affair. A number of operators sat round the table, each receiving news from a specific area.73 Rapid communications between stations was vital to the success of the system which would be most effectively used in the Second World War. During 1917 and 1918 the system was refined but practical problems such as poor intercept rates and the use of older aeroplanes (as the latest machines were directed to the efforts on the Western Front) meant the value of the system could not be fully realised. The RFC, despite its inferior technology, however, had developed an system that would eventually deter German attack. It was not until 1918 and the amalgamation of the RFC and RNAS that more men and machines could be committed to it, but the existence of the system itself demonstrates the offensive outlook of the RFC, which explored innovative methods even when current resources were not adequate to achieve their goal. ‘By 1918,’ Ferris concluded, ‘LADA had solved many of the problems in strategic air defence and was pursuing effective solutions for the rest.’74 The Royal Flying Corps’s task of defending the Home Front was fraught with difficulties and, like its naval predecessors, it felt the strain of fighting on two fronts without being able to dedicate its attention entirely to defending English soil. However, where it departed from the RNAS was in the development of technologies and countermeasures, however ambitious, to complete its task. Systems such as LADA were in place long before there were adequate machines to make them viable, but RFC commanders had the foresight to pursue the method and encouraged technology to meet their objectives. Furthermore the RFC recognized the expertise of pilots in being able to judge the situation and did not insist on over-centralizing orders. ‘It is to be clearly understood that the Senior Flying Corps officer at each station is solely responsible for ordering machines into the air,’

Philpott_Chap04.indd 158

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

HOME FRONT

159

the War Office instructed the LADA network. Consequently patrols ‘should go up at a certain hour if the weather conditions permit of flying, but it is impossible for anyone except an officer on the spot to judge of local conditions.’75 As a result, the War Office recorded just ten aeroplane raids in 1918; the last came in July with no fatalities. The total raid casualties for 1918 were just 168 compared to over 450 deaths recorded for 1917.76 German resources were dwindling in the final year of the war, but with the great reduction in civilian deaths, the LADA network contributed to effective deterrence of enemy aircraft.

Servicemen: View of the Raids Servicemen had mixed views on the Home Front and its sufferings. As the public became more used to raids, they became more adept at dealing with them. The government stopped issuing warnings, C. M. White explained, ‘particularly by day, because of the unnecessary alarm and disruption of war work, and the probability that people could be enticed onto the streets to watch instead of remaining in the comparative safety of buildings’.77 Panic was less widespread as they were able to manage the movement of people off the streets, and, as Charlton proudly states, so ‘disciplined did the populace become in time that busy thoroughfares such as the Strand, or with equal amount of wheeled and pedestrian traffic, would be cleared and stilled in the twinkling of an eye as soon as the air raid warning was given’. Men abandoned their cars or carts to find shelter as the ‘fizzing, highpitched whine of the bomb arriving from above at incredible speed’, Charlton recalled, and ‘seemed to be personally directed at each one who heard it, and the curious cushioned sound of the resulting explosion, evil as it was, occasioned a sense of relief that the missile had its mark elsewhere.’78 Yet the fear and frustration caused by air raids had some positive outcomes. Ethel Richardson, in her 1934 memoir, explained that British propagandists used the bombing to support military recruitment, and ‘it was remarkable to note the instant effect which one taking place in the town had upon the number of men enlisting for active service. Ocular demonstration of war brought home that fact better than any number of posters and newspaper appeals.’79

Philpott_Chap04.indd 159

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

160

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

For the members of the air services assigned to protecting Britain, this increased the sense of responsibility they held for defending the Home Front. Some British servicemen were motivated by the illegality of the attacks on their families; confident that in the eyes of the international community, Germany had acted illegally. A raid on London outraged RFC pilot Cecil Lewis in June 1917. While the raid caused little collateral damage, the appearance of the aeroplane was enough to cause him to lament ‘Barbarians! Dastards! Bombing towns! Waging war against defenceless women and children.’80 Likewise, ace James McCudden complained how ‘insolent these damned Boches did look, absolutely lording the sky above England. I was absolutely furious to think the Huns should come over and bomb London and have it practically all their own way.’81 The feeling of consternation engendered by air raids led to condemnation by British servicemen and gave greater urgency to the need to develop systems to protect their families. Whilst some servicemen were outraged, others were unsympathetic. For example, RFC pilot Philip Joubert de la Ferte felt the raids were a just punishment on civilians who had contributed little to the war effort. ‘It sounds a horrible thing to say,’ he told his mother in October 1915, ‘but I am glad that a little execution is being done in England. It may bring home to the “great heart of England” that there really is a war going on.’82 The gulf between serviceman and civilian was emphasized by the raids to the annoyance of the former. ‘Orpen’, an artist serving with the RNAS, ranted against civilian self-centredness in his 1924 memoir. ‘Their constant talk,’ he fumed, ‘was of the terrible thing they at home were going through on air raid nights. It hurts me – their complaining about their little chance of damage, when I knew that millions of men were running a big risk of being blown into eternity at any moment, day or night.’83 Whilst on leave, pilot Alan Bott was surprised to discover the public considered his work tedious. ‘I was present at a merry gathering of theatrical luminaries,’ he wrote, who were ‘enormously interested in themselves but enormously bored by the war, which usurped so much newspaper space that belonged by rights to the lighter drama.’84 Francis Pattenden was also frustrated by the cynicism at home of those in 1916. ‘You folks at home,’ he told

Philpott_Chap04.indd 160

3/24/2013 10:31:53 PM

HOME FRONT

161

his parents, ‘at least some of you seem to me (from your letters) to be getting jolly pessimistic over the war ... .It gives us chaps the pip, hump, blues etc, to hear people at home talking about the “Germans winning because they are so clever.” That’s all bosh.’85 These reactions to the public are quite revealing, and show that some servicemen on the Western Front felt that their role was unappreciated, even though the risks they faced were arguably far greater. This issue of servicemen responses to civilians during wartime is quite complex and can be described as an essential separation of the ‘public’ and ‘private’ home fronts, meaning that combatants’ attitudes to the general public were quite often different to the care and concern they felt for their families. Privy to the rumours of loose living and especially corporate profiteers in Britain, naturally servicemen would be outraged as they did their duty from a cold ship or aeroplane. Yet simultaneously the safety of their own families and friends was an utmost consideration and part of their complex system of motivation.86 Whilst servicemen could be dismissive of the public at home, the protection of their own families was always a primary consideration. This also added to the pressure on those charged with defending the Home Front, the pilots of the Royal Naval Air Service, and the Royal Flying Corps. Not only did their work directly guard the civilians below them who experienced the brutalities and tragedies of enemy action, but their comrades in France and Belgium relied upon them to protect the families they were fighting for. Being stationed on the Home Front was a new experience for servicemen and quite different to serving in France. The combination of familiar surroundings and the pressure to protect them from the bombers created a closer, more immediately protective link to the civilian population than existed on the Western Front. Servicemen were challenged by longer periods of inactivity than they had encountered abroad, and a greater sense of futility, especially in the early years when reaching the invaders was near impossible. The RFC too was largely powerless whilst fighting a war on two fronts, but still managed to initiate a system (the London Air Defence Area) that would prove invaluable once technological advances could meet the needs of home defence pilots. By 1918, this had been achieved and the system would form the

Philpott_Chap04.indd 161

3/24/2013 10:31:54 PM

162

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

basis of aerial defence in the Second World War. Fundamentally, the story of the Home Front during the First World War is one of confusion, caused by the division of control between the RNAS and RFC. Despite the enthusiasm of their pilots and ‘the seemingly endless disappointments, squadrons held to the belief that success would eventually come their way’, historians Christopher Cole and E. F. Cheeseman argued.87 The division created significant problems in the allocation of resources and left large areas of Britain undefended. This led to the formation of the Royal Air Force in the spring of 1918. Although home service pilots complained of inactivity and shared the deprivations of life at home, they continued to hope, as RFC pilot Philip Joubert de la Ferte believed, that war would be ‘the moral and physical salvation of our country’.88 During the Great War, the air raids were a central feature of life on the home front and for those charged with their resistance, a difficult and initially overwhelming challenge. But in the context of the entire war, Charlton noted in 1936, the raids were quickly forgotten, for those who actually experienced the fear and destruction were ‘not a large proportion of the present population. It is probable that they do not exceed thirty per cent. Thirty-five millions of persons, old and young ... have only a hearsay knowledge, if any at all, of those dark days.’89 They were soon to be reminded, in the arrival of a second war, but were able to rely on a system of detection and interception established during Britain’s first period of air raids, and the men who pioneered the systems of home defence.

Philpott_Chap04.indd 162

3/24/2013 10:31:54 PM

CHAPTER 5 R EPR ESENTATIONS OF WAR

The aftermath of victory left many servicemen feeling bewildered and disappointed. The idea of Britain that many combatants had clung to crumbled in the 1920s as men were demobilized and began to feel increasingly ostracized from society. Conditions were hard, and on ‘the average working day throughout that long period’, historian Mark Abrams wrote, ‘one worker in every seven was without a job, and dependent on benefit or relief for his keep’.1 There was poverty, economic instability and a national grief to contend with, all of which were in stark contrast to a war that had promised liberation, honour and a safe future, but delivered none of these things. It is unsurprising, therefore, that the fantasy figure of a hero-pilot interested the public, distracting non-combatants from reality and helping to make sense of the consequences of war. Embittered by their post-war experiences, soldier-veterans throughout the 1920s produced ‘truthful’ memoirs to contradict the sanitized commemorative processes symbolized by the burial of the Unknown Soldier and creation of the Cenotaph, which have been examined in detailed by historians such as Jay Winter and Adrian Gregory. These sanctified places, they argue, were places for relatives to focus their grief. Yet for army survivors they were empty shrines, over-simplifying the nature of conflict and death. The war ‘appeared to me as a thing that should never be’, soldier H. Gregory stated and wrote his memoir hoping that ‘it will make people realise the awfulness and uselessness of

Philpott_Chap05.indd 163

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

164

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

war in settling international disputes’.2 Similarly C. E. Montague’s discursive memoir, Disenchantment, spoke of the disappointment of some soldier-veterans with the consequences of war. ‘Much that [the veteran] took to be fairly noble now looks pretty mean,’ he sighed, even ‘habitual dwelling which was to be shored up by the war, wears a strange new air of precariousness.’3 Consequently many soldiers were unable to reconcile their combative experiences with ‘the loftier notions of civilian romance about war’, as historian Jay Winter observed. The First World War soldiers, in particular, faced the painful knowledge of total war and wanted to create a meaningful justification for their experiences, which influenced their representation of it.4 Alongside this embittered exchange between soldier-veterans and officials, another type of commemoration was taking place, one that celebrated the glories of the air and the individual notion of heroism that the RAF embodied in the public consciousness.5 Historians such as Adrian Gregory and Jay Winter have already analysed traditional forms of commemoration, the memorials and rituals that responded to a massive public need for physical monuments to deify the dead. As Stefan Goebel has written, the ‘first wave of commemorative activities between 1916 and 1923 was characterized by the juxtaposition of the official version and the testimony of combatants.’6 So the literary representations of the navy and airforce in the post-war period also shaped public opinion and shaped the memory of the role these services played in the conflict. Sailors and pilots themselves helped to create a public memory, one which believed the navy had disappointed whilst the RAF embodied a comforting heroism in a complex post-war world. This chapter considers the reputation and representation of the RFC and Royal Navy during and immediately after the war, and, in particular, the association of the RAF with the heroic. The adventure stories of airmen have dominated the public imagination, overriding the reality of warfare in the RFC. At this time, Goebel argued, ‘British society yearned for a hero, a leader above all petty controversies of the time.’7 Those looking for a sanitized picture of aerial conflict marginalized their knowledge of death, of killing and of great uncertainty. Instead, the public and the veteran-pilots chose to create an idealized hero-airman figure to embody the ideals of manly combat.

Philpott_Chap05.indd 164

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

165

Importantly, this creation stood as counterpoint to the thwarted ambitions and disappointments of the inter-war world, and many veteranpilots reconstructed their war experience in this way, writing romantic accounts of their time in battle and capturing the public imagination with their tales of daring. Meanwhile, the Royal Navy had been the nation’s champion in 1914, personifying the values of the British Empire and evoking collective ideals of heroic deeds, yet very little is now remembered of the naval presence in the conflict. Whilst the Royal Flying Corps is associated with danger and excitement that captured the spirit of a period of adventure, the navy was felt to have failed in its protective duty. This chapter compares the legacy of aerial and naval warfare after the Great War, setting their actual peacetime growth in the context of their changed status in the public consciousness. It examines why the Royal Navy, which began the war with great public acclaim, faltered in its position as the nation’s champion whilst the Royal Flying Corps emerged untainted and mythologized from the squalor of twentieth century conflict.

RAF: The Establishment of a Peacetime Service To understand why the fantasy figure of the airman was created, it is necessary to explore the political establishment of the airforce after the war. To guarantee its place as a permanent military body, the Royal Flying Corps began a series of reforms, under the aegis of General Smuts, in 1917–1918 that ended the division of military and naval aviation and formed the RAF.8 This unification report became one of the most important documents of the 1914–1918 war, developed because, as official naval historian Arthur Marder explained, the ‘intensified competition between the Army and Navy for aircraft’ was wasting resources. Instead the Smuts report of August 1917 ‘recommended the fusion of the RNAS and RFC ... under an Air Ministry and Air General Staff.’9 This did not immediately mean that the air service was better resourced, but established a system for efficiency. Most significantly, it gave overall control to an aerial ministry rather than a military or naval representative.

Philpott_Chap05.indd 165

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

166

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

The Royal Air Force came into being on 1 April 1918, almost six years after the Royal Flying Corps was first formed. The significance of the Smuts Report is that it made the airmen of the First World War unique. Through their actions, aerial combat was recognized and embodied in a third service, and there would never again be division of control for aerial resources. Yet the disappointment and political manoeuvring between the Admiralty and the War Office that the report engendered had ramifications for the professional culture of the RAF for more than a decade. Naval pilots were reluctant to accept the new regime. Major Draper of 8 Squadron (No. 208 RAF) was dismayed at the loss of naval identity. ‘I know everyone from myself down to the last man were very upset at the change,’ he complained, because they lost ‘that special distinction which had earned for Naval 8 a reputation second to none ... . Unofficially we never dropped the old ways completely.’ Draper then referred to a post-war photograph clearly showing some members of the Squadron still sporting their old RNAS uniforms.10 ‘PIX,’ a fellow RNAS pilot, described a farewell dinner held on 31 March 1918, demonstrating the loyalty naval men felt towards their dying service. The ‘Royal Naval Air Service was passing away’, he mourned: It was the oldest of the two British flying services having its origins in 1910 ... . But the debt which the nation owes to it for the development of engines and efficient aircraft, no less than for its operations on land and sea over the whole world, had hardly been appreciated ... . And now its people were asked to give up the legends about the mighty pilots who had created the service, the traditions which had accumulated so rapidly in war time, the uniform and routine which so well fitted their work, the comradeship which had permeated the personnel owing to its limited number, and the name which numberless brave men had laid down their lives to make honourable ... . Below the khaki! I feel hardly human.11 His epitaph for the service demonstrates the extremely strong allegiances men had formed to the notion of their flying group. The

Philpott_Chap05.indd 166

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

167

RNAS man was always naval first and pilot second. The resistance of naval pilots was only in the form of words as their duties still had to be performed. It ‘was a bitter blow to most of us to be suddenly shorn of our glories as sailors’, wrote the pilots of Portsmouth Command, ‘and to discard the Naval uniforms and customs, but again officers and men sunk their personal feelings and entered whole-heartedly into the spirit of things.’12 Their words encapsulated the feeling of loyalty and duty, irrespective of service, with which veteran-pilots chose to represent their time at war. The RFC, however, made little comment on the change; its uniform, titles and chain of command remained largely unaltered. The Smuts report, although necessary to establish the air service as a separate political institution, was not designed to win the allegiance of its pilots. It was based on operational necessities that resulted in frequent clashes between its political and organizational centres, and the needs of its pilots in the inter-war period. Once airmen had achieved their independent status, the airforce seemed at a loss, with nothing left to prove. Although the establishment of the RAF was a political and economic necessity, it did not result in a coherent purpose for the peacetime service. ‘As a result,’ historian Malcolm Cooper argued, ‘the RAF entered the post-war period poorly integrated into the defence community and quite lacking in a clearly defined strategic function.’13 This shift from action to politics defined the inter-war period and explains the loss of direction sustained by the RAF at this time. War had given the RFC both a political standing and a united purpose, but in the 1920s, the RAF found its new role difficult to sustain. First, it suffered from the necessary reduction of all services and the mass demobilization of its men. The Royal Flying Corps had relied heavily on the enthusiasm of youth and the initiative of its pilots to improve combat methods, so the return of a large proportion of these men to the civilian world was a significant blow to the drive of the new air service. The War Office estimated a total of 150,000 men were serving in the RAF by 12 March 1919, but insisted on reducing this to 79,570.14 The vast majority of these men were between 20 and 30 years old and had exemplified the youthful drive of the service. The RFC, unlike its fellow services, had an informal culture; developments were

Philpott_Chap05.indd 167

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

168

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

sustained and propelled by the men within. Without the unifying purpose of war, decline was understandable. Malcolm Cooper’s vivid description of the ‘bonfires of unwanted aircraft’ burning throughout the country could be seen as a metaphor for the shift from action to politics that left the RAF as a vulnerable veteran of war rather than the world-leading service it had been in November 1918. To survive, the RAF had to carve a permanent role in Britain’s armoury and demonstrate its independent value in both war and peace. The new service, therefore, capitalized on the exuberance of its remaining young men and their enthusiasm for flight, focusing on the development of the new bomber aircraft. A formal Boy’s Service was created, based on a wartime precedent, to feed new recruits through the training system and ensure the RAF’s sustainability. ‘The Air Force also enlists boys between the ages of 15 and 16½, after an entrance examination conducted by the Local Education Authority,’ contemporary writer Wilkinson Sherrin explained, where they were given ‘a first-class technical training and then serve 10 years with the regular Air Force’.15 This was far longer than service during the war but would offer greater opportunity to train and develop men. The University Air Squadrons (UAS) also capitalized on the growing association of youth and flight to entice the young men of Oxford and Cambridge into the air. This created and maintained a reserve of potential flyers should war recur.16 Most importantly, the association with Cambridge in particular allowed the RAF to exploit and promote the academic study of aeronautics at the highest level. Consequently, a Research Flight was included in the Cambridge squadron to develop and test new methods. To further emphasize the link between the study of aeronautics and the role of the pilot, Sir Bennett Melville Jones was simultaneously the university’s first Professor of Aeronautics and the leader of the Research Flight. Once established, academic study was undertaken to further embed the ‘science of flight’ into the country’s academic centres, with ‘investigations ranged from upper air microbiological experiments to the causes of aircraft accidents’.17 The UAS was a mutually advantageous arrangement, offering an exciting career path to educated recruits, whilst utilizing the resources of the nation’s finest research institutions to refine the processes of aviation.

Philpott_Chap05.indd 168

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

169

The University Air Squadrons were extremely popular with Oxbridge students. The Oxford squadron easily filled the hundred student places with a large waiting list. Applications were so numerous that senior members of the institution could select only the most outstanding candidates, adding to their sense of exclusivity and privilege. The majority of men demobilized in 1920 were between 20 and 25 years old, which meant they would have been recruited during the ‘traditional’ university years. The UAS training was similar to wartime teaching, Boys’ Service veteran John Ross explained, with ‘lectures on air navigation, rigging, airmanship and engines’. The UAS offered consistent training to recruits during their time at University, slowly building their knowledge. To do this, Ross explained, each man ‘received an average of nine flights per term, totalling five hours and 45 minutes (dual and solo). Each flight was of about 35 minutes’ duration.’18 Over three terms for three years, this culminated in a valuable body of experience and an instinctive knowledge of flight. After taking written and practical examinations, successful candidates were awarded the Air Ministry Proficiency Certificate and could apply to the Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve (RAFVR) and then for a permanent commission in the RAF. Should war return to Europe, the University pilots could be readied for active service. This strengthened the position of the RAF and ensured that flight became not only an exciting privilege, but also a serious academic pursuit. By thus exploiting the union of youth and flight, the RAF attracted considerable notice.

Public Affection Flying also fascinated the British public in the 1920s. The crowds had flocked to the pre-war flying pageants of Hendon as a result of the first cross-Channel flight in 1909. Historian Hugh Driver recorded the subsequent hysteria: The Daily Mail, of course, had sponsored the cross-Channel flight, so could perhaps be expected to proclaim aviation mania following the event; what was more surprising was the public’s response. Over 120,000 people crammed into Selfridges in

Philpott_Chap05.indd 169

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

170

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Oxford Street to see Bleriot’s monoplane over the four days it was subsequently displayed.19 Already inducing excitement by 1914, the airman became a revered and heroic figure during the conflict. By the 1920s, aviation was still a captivating subject; boundaries were broken by transatlantic crossings, whilst wartime plans for commercial air routes came to fruition and transformed this weapon into a form of civilian transport. As in the pre-war years, crowds flocked to the Hendon air pageants which took place annually from 1920 to 1937 and like the naval displays described by Rueger became, as historian David Omissi has shown, ‘the most celebrated and successful of the new Royal Air Force spectacles’. The pageants were an aid in creating identity for the air force in peacetime and were instrumental in justifying its existence as a unified force. ‘By presenting the newness and modernity of the RAF,’ Omissi continued, ‘the pageant helped to offset the lack of “tradition” and the perceived inferiority of the junior service.’ Omissi also described the ‘social cachet’ which the event carried and by 1923, it was being attended by British and international royalty including ‘King George V and Queen Mary, Queen Alexandra the Queen Mother, the Duke and Duchess of York, “Empress Marie Fedorovna of Russia”, Princess Beatrice, Princess Victoria and Grand Duchess Xenia and the Crown Prince of Sweden’. Most tickets for the general enclosures had to be booked in advance but the cheapest seats were available on the day. ‘A trip to the Hendon pageant was more expensive than a visit to the cinema’, Omissi concludes, but this did not preclude people from attending. The effect of the hero-airman was such that ‘tens sometimes hundreds of thousands watched the display without paying from nearby fields and hills.’ 20 At the heart of this interest in flight was the figure of the military pilot emerging from the First World War. For many, ‘the air was a thrilling new dimension, and pioneer pilots were glamorous figures’, historian Len Deighton wrote. In spite of political uncertainty and under-funding in the inter-war period, the ‘RAF entered the 1930s having created the atmosphere of the finest flying club in the world – not fashionable, but intensely exciting. Its officers lived in elegant comfort, being paid to fly when half the world’s young men were willing

Philpott_Chap05.indd 170

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

171

to pawn a week’s salary for the privilege of getting into the air.’21 This fantasy idea of pilot life was central to understanding how the aviator has been represented since the Great War. The reasons for this fantasy are complex. In part it offered an alternative to the restrictive conditions of the inter-war years. It also offered an escape from the intense public grief after the war, exacerbated by honest accounts of trench life. The only place where decisive victory had been achieved on the Western Front was in the air, and there was little in the experiences of land- and sea-based warfare to give comfort to the British public in the years after the Armistice. As Adrian Gregory has argued, the interpretation of war, and consequently the legacy of the armed services, depended on the distance from war. Immediately after the Armistice, he explained, people felt that ‘peace is an achievement of heroism and victory, whereas from the late twenties it is a lesson to be learnt from the suffering and disillusion.’22 Whilst Winter and Gregory’s interpretations are correct for veteran-soldiers, the public image of the airman in the same period was quite different. There was a growing romance associated with the figure of the lone pilot, one who stood alongside the Unknown Soldier as a representative of war. Whilst many disillusioned memoirs came from the trenches in the late 1920s, veteran-pilot accounts consistently reinforced the associated notions of glamour, adventure and just war that the public wished to believe in. As Len Deighton has explained, there was a mania for flight, for this new military service, which had conquered the air and offered an alternative war experience to the stalemate on land. Understandably, pilot activities and lifestyle looked exciting in comparison with the experiences of the silent, battle-scarred soldier, broken by his experience of war. The transformation of the pilot into a figure of manly heroism was affected as much by the veteran-pilot as by the media. Consequently the picture of war created by veteran-pilots was largely stripped of death in favour of sanitized notions of glory and heroism.

Heroism and Pilots In memoirs, the pilot often identified himself as a ‘traditional’ hero of the First World War, but what is a hero? Literary and non-fiction

Philpott_Chap05.indd 171

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

172

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

heroes share similar characteristics; it is difficult to distinguish whether literature represents the human hero-concept, or whether heroes are expected to reflect literary ideals. The social scientist Anna Makolkin described heroism as a set of ‘common shareable standards, the evaluators of human performance’. Traditionally, she argued, heroes require physical strength, intellectual genius and spiritual courage as prerequisites for their status as heroes within a particular group. That group then selects the methods of celebrating its chosen heroes. After the First World War, specific modes of remembrance were officially selected to honour the fallen. Symbols of heroism such as The Unknown Soldier and the Cenotaph received up to a million visitors in the week following the Soldier’s burial on 11 November 1920. The public accepted and turned to these symbols of heroism, which to this day are the focus of remembrance celebrations.23 Makolkin would argue that by doing so the British people exemplified the final stage of hero-creation, the development of immortalising monuments that ‘embody the archetypal extraordinariness, reminding the ordinary members of the group about their heroic otherness’.24 This concept of heroism at that time was closely linked to death and to idealistic expectations of sacrifice. Yet, over time, public understanding of heroism has changed. Historian Stephanie Barczewski has shown that traits which once denoted weakness are now central to modern interpretations of heroism. In her examination of the changing approaches to the pioneer polar explorers Scott and Shackleton, both contemporaries of the combatants of the First World War and naval men, Barczewski argued that ‘Scott better fit contemporary notions of heroism and masculinity and was more the prototype of the ideal explorer’ in 1918. Consequently his tragic Polar expedition of 1912 was revered as a traditionally heroic act. It displayed the qualities of bravery in the exploration of the unknown, courage and self-sacrifice for the good of the Empire, which had great resonance with grieving Britain after the Armistice. By contrast, Barczewski argued, Shackleton’s successful rescue of his men in 1917 was viewed as ‘a quest for individual achievement and glory’ and a selfish waste of men and resources during the war. It was only later in the century that the opinions of

Philpott_Chap05.indd 172

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

173

Scott and Shackleton were reversed, when ideas of heroism began to alter. Barczewski’s argument also applies to the representation of combatants since the war. At the Armistice the public wanted heroes, like Scott, to celebrate: men, unsullied by the corruption of their own humanity, laying down their life for the Empire. Scott, and similarly the pilot, was portrayed in ‘archetypal form, not as a flesh-and-blood human being’, Barczewski concludes, but as ‘a “manly” hero whose exploits were frequently described in explicitly gendered terms as the products of specifically masculine endeavour’.25 What separates the airman from Scott is that whilst the view of individual Polar explorers has changed, pilots have continued to be viewed through this semi-romantic lens.26 Despite the changing nature of heroism in the twentieth century, the pilot has retained an aura of glamour and manliness. This notion of the carefree, crusading hero, most associated with airmen of the two World Wars, is an enduring picture. This link between the pilot and chivalric heroism was established by the First World War and found longevity in the Battle of Britain. Although seen as the ultimate expression of heroic aviation, by 1940 the romance of aerial combat was already embedded in the cultural landscape. Consequently, Second World War fighter ace Richard Hillary used these already accepted tropes when he wrote that pilots had ‘found a way to return to war as it ought to be, war which is individual combat between two people, in which one either kills or is killed’. This concept of chivalry associates and reinforces the idea of the pilot as the supreme figure of manliness. Hillary felt that: The pilot is of a race of men who since time immemorial have been inarticulate; who, through their daily contact with death, have realized, often enough unconsciously, certain fundamental things. It is only in the air that the pilot can grasp that feeling, that flash of knowledge, of insight, that matures him beyond his years; only in the air that he knows suddenly he is a man in a world of men.27 Hillary focused on the sensation of flight as being central to his presentation of masculinity. His memoir emphasizes the continued

Philpott_Chap05.indd 173

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

174

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

association of the pilot with heroism that was established by his Great War predecessors. The reason for this unrevised idea of the airman in the Great War rests with Hillary and his contemporaries. It was in the Battle of Britain that the airman experienced his ultimate test and it is this that has dominated popular thought (in the same way that the Somme does for the Army and Trafalgar for the Navy). The historiography has concentrated on the airmen of the Second World War and left the portrayal of their predecessors to retain the status they garnered in the inter-war years. In the aftermath of the First Word War, therefore, the pilot was celebrated as the ultimate man. Graham Dawson’s examination of T. E. Lawrence showed that there was ‘a widespread desire for the reassertion of a heroic British identity to set against the destruction not only of life but of meaning, values and beliefs brought about by war in Europe.’28 Airmen grasped that opportunity in their memoirs which, as George Mosse argued, ‘symbolized the “new man” or “ideal type”... . He focused, more than any other group could have done, the hopes that fuelled the generation of 1914 – and he had conquered!’ The pilot representing individual acts of heroism was used by propaganda as a monument of human endeavour in a mechanised war. ‘The “conquest of the skies” was one important way in which the reality of war was masked and made bearable,’ Mosse concluded, ‘which in turn made confrontation with modern war that much easier.’29 William Miller, in his exploration of courage, also discussed the alluring quality of bravery associated with the pilot after the war. ‘Courage has a special cachet,’ he argued, ‘people care about it desperately ... . Courage still ranks people morally ... . The courageous are not only objects of admiration and awe; they are also objects of gratitude.’30 The public admired the pilot because he was divorced from the confusion of trench warfare.31 He symbolized the recognized values of heroism, and consequently became a sanitized figure of warfare. Heroism is, therefore, an unreal state. It celebrates only the positive aspects of man’s character, or specific deeds without reference to the wider context. Many pilots were killers in the Great War: their role was to initiate aggressive action against the enemy but by casting themselves as chivalric heroes, they transformed themselves into

Philpott_Chap05.indd 174

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

175

defenders of Britain. Soldiers became heroes in the Great War because death prevented them from bringing the truth of war home with them. In the case of many pilots, it was because they offered a romantic image of individualized warfare, fantastically remote from the hardships of the trenches. Historian Angus Calder rightly asserted that ideas of heroism were ‘constructed upon them because we need heroes. Heroes are not real: they are superreal.’32 Society creates and admires superheroes to act as aspirational ideals, devoid of human weaknesses. Psychologists Peter and Gabrielle Hancock agreed that ‘the vision of superheroes is created for individuals who feel somewhat powerless and weak in the face of the larger natural and social forces that dictate their lives.’33 This is arguably true of the post-war period where semifictional heroes were created to justify the consequences of conflict, and re-unify society around the worship of its heroes.

Creating the Myth The pilots of the Great War were largely responsible for the creation of the chivalric myth that still surrounds them. There are three particular themes that link the memoirs together, whether they were printed in the 1920s or the 1970s. The first is the spirit of adventure that characterized the pilot’s life, combining his enthusiasm for flight, the degree of courage he showed and his confrontation with death. The second theme was the link to chivalry and the repeated association of the pilot with the medieval knight. Although the figure of the knight was a fantasy in itself, this was a frequent reference point for veteran-pilots expressing the romance of their role. Finally, aviators celebrated the privilege of their position, having an experience shared only by the few. The titles of pilot memoirs suggest a strong association with these three traditional concepts of heroism. From Alan Bott’s Cavalry of the Clouds to Norman Macmillan’s Into the Blue and William Bishop’s Winged Warfare, notions of glorious lone combat are evoked even before the memoir itself is read. Pioneer, teacher and manufacturer Claude Graham White wrote numerous wartime texts celebrating the daring and bravery of British pilots with titles such as Heroes of the Flying Corps

Philpott_Chap05.indd 175

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

176

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

and Romance of Reality: The Aeroplane. This last title is demonstrative of the representation of pilots in the inter-war period – choosing to concentrate on the romance rather than the reality of aerial combat. Pilots embodied the spirit of a new adventurer hero with which they, and the public, chose to engage, most particularly through the proliferation of memoirs. Although war was unpleasant and often hard to describe to civilians, the memoirs of pilots refer to a great adventure which they seemed to enjoy. The idea of adventure, suggested by the titles of memoirs, focused on three key aspects of adventure; the sensation of flight; the idea of war as a game; their dismissal of the risk. ‘Having had so little instruction in and experience of flying one was by no means master of the machine,’ William Fry confessed, but flying ‘was an adventure, learning and gaining confidence as one went along.’34 Confidence came with experience, and as Fry inferred it was the ‘adventure’ that was most important. Writing his book in 1974, Fry’s strongest memory of war, 50 years after he fought it, was the excitement of flight. Herbert Ward too, in his 1988 memoir, describing his successful escape from a Prisoner of War camp, emphasized his excitement at the memory of adventure: Only one British officer had ever escaped from Germany ... . In [General Trenchard’s] way of thinking, at any rate, it was quite reasonable to expect a couple of his young flying men to give their captors the slip; it was entirely in keeping with the spirit of the RFC.35 Pilots conspired to present these ideals in memoirs, focusing rather on the sensations of flight and group adventure than the ‘true’ experience of war. As Arthur Gould Lee explained pilots ‘lived for the day, for the hour, lived for the adventure, for the excitement of fighting in the skies.’36 Gould Lee’s reference to ‘adventure’ and ‘excitement’ made him sound more like a carefree adventurer than a serviceman. Lieutenant Colonel William Bishop used similar language in his 1975 memoir: [The] excitement of the chase had a tight hold on my heartstrings and I felt the only thing I wanted was to stay right at it

Philpott_Chap05.indd 176

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

177

and fight and fight and fight in the air. I don’t think I was ever happier in my life. It seemed that I had found the one thing I loved above all others. Bishop’s ‘excitement’, the repetition of the word ‘fight’, and his ardour for aviation gave a strong sense of his enjoyment of air fighting. He described war as ‘just a wonderful game’, assuring the reader that although war was not enjoyable, yet ‘in the air, it seemed more like any other kind of sport ... . One had the great satisfaction of feeling that one had hit the target and brought it down that one was victorious again.’37 In contrast to the grim realities of combat brought back from the trenches, pilots offered a vision of fighting in which the adventure of flight took precedence over, and actively excluded the actuality of killing. This was easier to reconcile with ideas of traditional heroism with which men had gone to war. The carefree tone of these memoirs created the idea that the RFC was involved in a great game performed by very young men living an easy existence, which reiterated the notion of adventure. Writing of air life, Fry encapsulated this casual attitude: It was a wonderful life we pilots led. We were not bothered with parades ... not with rules about uniform ... . Our main concern was the condition of the aeroplane, the engine and the machine-gun ... . There were no technical manuals for us to study; they did not exist. We were burdened with no responsibility whatever.38 Without the structure of rules each man applied his own skill, and being ‘burdened with no responsibility whatever’ meant Fry could focus on the determining role of the pilot in combat, which allowed him to enjoy flying. ‘You were invulnerable: nothing could touch you’, Lewis agreed, giving a sense of separation, of being, quite literally, above the darker business of trench warfare. This gave the airman his ‘clean’ image. He was a man who enjoyed his duty and treated war as a game. The danger of the pilots’ situation and the apparent cheery acceptance with which memoirists claimed to have faced the possibility of death, is the final aspect of their adventure projection. Cecil Lewis,

Philpott_Chap05.indd 177

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

178

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

one of the most frequently read memoirists of war, used these ideas of risk to frame his reflections, writing of self-sacrifice and the greater good. He does not discuss the nature of air combat in specific detail but regularly reflected on the nature of the life he lived and its confrontation with death. ‘In such an atmosphere you grew fatalistic, and as time went by ... like a batsman who has played himself in, you begin to take liberties with the bowling,’ he explained. As an airman he took ‘unnecessary risks ... you volunteer for dangerous jobs, you provoke enemy aircraft to attack you. You were invulnerable: nothing could touch you.’39 Historian Angus Calder criticized Lewis for exaggerating the adventure in his experience. Discussing Cecil Lewis’s 1965 memoir Sagittarius Rising, Calder was disappointed to find that ‘even the battles of the First World War contradicted Lewis’s idealised version of air combat, as his own pages show clearly enough.’ 40 Yet, rather than misrepresenting war, Lewis gets to the heart of motivation, explaining the ways men faced their daily task. Feeling invulnerable allowed the pilot to cope with his role, and find the will to repeat his actions each day. To achieve that, the pilot ‘lived supremely in the moment’, Lewis explained, preoccupied with ‘the next patrol, our horizon, the next leave ... . I do not complain of this. It was a fine introduction to life.’ 41 It would be a mistake to read the airman’s memoir as just a romantic and unrealistic account of combat. Airmen may not describe in great historical detail the sight of a burning plane or what it was like to kill an enemy at close range, but instead show the mechanism men used to successfully cope with their actions. Lewis does not overtly misrepresent his time on the Western Front; rather, he describes it in the familiar language of airmen – terms referring to adventure and risk – which the reading public could recognize and appreciate. In the immediate aftermath of war, therefore, the adventures of the pilot captured the public imagination. Stefan Goebel has shown that ‘the British First World War experience was encoded in a language of suffering and sacrifice which validated soldiers’ vulnerability.’42 Yet, by representing individual combat, the pilot perfectly balanced the danger of air fighting with an apparently carefree lifestyle. They were lofted as the untainted face of sanitized and successful warfare. On 3 July 1920, The Times advertised an air pageant at Hendon at which

Philpott_Chap05.indd 178

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

179

veteran-pilots demonstrated to the public some of the techniques they had used during the war: Then, well known air-fighters, heroes of many a combat, will re-enact, in every detail save their grim ending, a series of aerial duels in which they will demonstrate some of these wonderful manoeuvres invented and perfected during the war to secure a sudden advantage over an enemy airman.43 Turning recreations of dogfights into entertainment for the public demonstrates the degree to which the concepts of aerial warfare had become sanitized and revered. The phrase ‘save the grim ending’ is crucial because it served as a reminder of the deadly purpose of a dogfight, which was to kill your opponent. These encounters were unpredictable and the pilots engaged in them, however skilful, could not guarantee their result. Yet by the early 1920s this element of air warfare had become an amusement at a summer fete, and the pilots themselves the entertainers, simulating their experiences for a fee-paying audience. This allowed the air battle to be re-lived without negative connotations. The airmen were heroic figures of the First World War and recreating the dogfight celebrated their actions in conflict without any implication of the countless deaths that had resulted from them. The airman’s confrontation with death, therefore, was a key feature of many memoirs, in which airmen dismissed the prospect of their own demise to focus on the adventure of flight. Similar to their discussion of risk, the inclusion of death was intended to reiterate the bravery of pilots who accepted the danger unconcernedly. Charles C. Turner knew that there was ‘not an airman who does not realize that it may be possibly be his last [flight]’, but this ‘does not spoil his flying or his enjoyment ... . The thought does not prey on his mind: It is no more than a recognition of facts. Heroism lies not so much in the action as the decision to perform the action.’ 44 During every flight the pilot was in danger, most of all from machine failure, and it was this daily challenge to his courage which made him such an admirable figure. The heroic act lies, as Turner showed, in choosing to face that prospect calmly as ‘no more than a recognition of facts’. Consequently, pilots

Philpott_Chap05.indd 179

3/24/2013 10:32:15 PM

180

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

wrote that they were able to control their own fate based on their skill in individual combat. As Cecil Lewis romantically asserted, being an airman meant to ‘be alone, to have your life in your hands, to use your skill; if you lost, it was because you had met a better man.’45 Fellow RFC pilot Alan Bott reinforced those sentiments in his comparison of pilot and soldier experiences. In ‘the game of poker played with life, death and the will to destroy’, Bott states: [The] airman has but to reckon with two marked cards – the ... Boche aircraft, and the Knave Archibald; whereas, when the Infantryman stakes his existence, he must remember the sleeve of the old cheat Death contains half a dozen cards.46 It was that opportunity, whether real or literary, to influence the life and death of combatants that gave the pilot a special status in the concept of the heroic during the Great War. Beyond the confines of the RFC, aerial warfare was so little understood that an exclusive manly mythology developed around it, which pilot memoirs exploited. Edgar Middleton, RNAS veteran and Official Historian, described the clamour for the airman as ‘curiously exaggerated hero-worship’ that had little basis in fact: The war in the clouds fired the public imagination ... . The air was still too underdeveloped, too much confined to the exclusive few, for the layman to view flying in the war in its true proportions.47 The exclusivity of flying, Deighton has suggested, created a mystique around the young men experiencing the privileged comfort of RAF life in the 1920s. ‘If one were to take a consensus of opinion of the main characteristic of war flying,’ Middleton continued, ‘it would be that it was unusual ... . Even the periods of greatest activity in the air were opposed naturally to the normal order of things.’ Man conquered the air in a small ‘cubby-hole in which there was barely room to turn to left or to the right, suspended dizzily in mid-air’, Middleton concluded.48 Many pilots, in their writing, emphasized this exoticism of flying as a glamorous alternative to the trenches.

Philpott_Chap05.indd 180

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

181

Arthur Gould Lee understood this sense of privilege, stressing the abiding importance of the pilot experience. ‘It was a rare existence we led ... but we did not reflect often on it,’ he explained. Instead they ‘lived for the day, for the hour. We lived for the adventure, for the excitement of flying in the skies.’49 Many airmen believed the war was a formative experience and for this purpose the memoir was an accurate depiction of that process. ‘The main background and the foundations for those of my age must be the War years,’ H. H. Balfour agreed, because during that period: We graduated from boyhood to manhood between 1914–1918 and in spite of the passage of time, we cannot help but judge events of life in the light of the standards ingrained into us by the high spots of life and the depths of resignation to its surrender which were the extremes of those days.50 Balfour saw his role in the RFC as the ultimate expression of himself, and used his memoir to reiterate the peculiarity of the airman’s role. In their memoirs, pilots recognized that they represented an alternative experience of war. Although James McCudden praised the forbearance of the army, he recognized that ‘we fortunates in the RFC had to work hard ... . [and] saw some of the sufferings but nothing compared to what they must have gone through.’51 Alan Bott confirmed the distance between the soldier and airman experience in his 1918 memoir. Whilst censoring letters, Bott recorded the descriptions of pilot life written by his squadron. ‘The trenches are now passed’ one pilot wrote, and back at the base the ‘strained nerve-tension snaps, the air seems intoxicatingly light. Pilots and observers munch chocolate contentedly or lift up their voices in songs of Blighty.’52 There is little allusion to the real dangers of aerial warfare in memoirs, so this idea of exclusivity of experience was essential to the memoirist. Middleton also explored this sentiment in his romantic association of privileged youth with the RFC: It is no exaggeration to say that the esprit de corps and the comradeship of the Flying Corps were unequalled ... . Behind the mask, however, burnt incessantly the all-absorbing flame of pulsating

Philpott_Chap05.indd 181

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

182

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Youth. The joie de vivre was ever uppermost. How they enjoyed this poor mortal existence, those gallant boys and youth! How they snatched moments of exquisite pleasure from those tense seconds of danger and disaster in the air! By natural disposition they were but children paddling curiously on the shores of manhood.53 Like Balfour, Middleton felt the most admirable quality of RFC members was their enjoyment of life, grasping opportunities to live to the full. The mixing of French phrases such as espirit de corps and joie de vivre lends an exotic element to the description of the airman’s life, again demonstrating their uniqueness and exclusivity. Middleton’s association of age with the excitement of the Flying Corps suggests that only the ‘all-absorbing flame of pulsating Youth’ could have managed to find enjoyment in a brutal war. Children, as he later describes them, are unaware of the dangers around them, acting almost blindly and bravely, with no fear of the consequences. The purpose of the airman’s memoir was to capture the exclusivity of his experience and association with chivalric heroism, presenting it as his strongest memory of the war. Throughout the war, pilots were encouraged to view their work in the highest terms. In the 1917–1918 manual Work & Training, the RFC encouraged its pilots to see themselves as aspirational figures: [They unite] these qualities of ancient and of the most modern warfare. In their lonely self-reliance and dependence on their own individual prowess they remind us of the knights of old, and certainly since the days of the knights, there has been no such opportunity in war for the displays of personal qualities of the individual54 The RFC invoked these images of individual combat to demonstrate to its pilots their unique opportunity to embody this ideal. The suggested combination of both ‘ancient’ and ‘modern’ warfare with the pilot at its apex was a key perception at this time. The RFC suggests that the airman was the embodiment of the medieval crusader in personality, who utilizes cutting-edge technology, stepping directly from the past into an aeroplane. The strong emphasis on individual combat

Philpott_Chap05.indd 182

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

183

is also evident in the phrases ‘lonely self-reliance’ and ‘displays of personal qualities’ that give a romantic aspect to the dangerous practice of air warfare and its stark separation from the soldier-masses. Meanwhile, the evocation of ‘knights of old’ lifted the airman out of his immediate circumstances, placing him in a fantasy realm of idealized combat, one based on gentlemanly behaviour and single manly contest. Airmen collaborated in the myth-making, presenting themselves in the guise of hero-pilots. Veteran-pilots borrowed the language of chivalry and knightly combat to explain their role in the war. Although Cecil Lewis’s biography disregards the brutal role of the pilot-killer, his language and allusions to knightly combat were ‘conventional’. Describing his youthful verve, he explained that he ‘lived with a secret perfection in my heart’, and so belief in myself and my life was boundless, vague and vast as a cloud horizon before sunrise ... . Everyday you did should be the best possible. You should live gloriously, generously, dangerously, safety last!55 Lewis’s entire motivation and reflection on his time at war are contained in this extract, and he wanted to show that he was keenly devoted to the cause irrespective of the cost. ‘They were the standards of men who were living from day to day,’ H. H. Balfour confirmed, ‘with no thought of the morrow or what it might bring forth ... . Undoubtedly character was at its best in those days ... [Pilots] served not only gallantly but unselfishly ... . I left the Royal Air Force with no regrets.’56 Balfour felt that men did their duty and acted honourably, not thinking of ‘the morrow’ but of the current work they had to do – exemplifying the knightly ideal. Throughout the conflict, he felt, that ‘character was at its best’ and the pilot came to symbolize the heroic. This left him with a great pride in his war record, and that of his colleagues, which he wanted to honour through his memoir. The association of chivalric ideas was fairly typical of the ways in which the Flying Corps described aerial combat. Its pilots utilized this theme in their own memoirs, making them an accurate and useful source for understanding why men fought.

Philpott_Chap05.indd 183

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

184

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Ideas of chivalry, therefore, were central to the presentation of the airman. These associations began with the creation of aces during the war as the public clamoured for news. This was similar to the idea of ‘champions’ in the jousts of the medieval and early-modern period. As Adrian Smith showed, the ‘newspapers would sensationalize the war in the air and give the readers heroes resonant of an earlier, cleaner, more honourable age.’57 It was with this knightly ideal that many pilots would identify, both during and after the conflict, celebrating their role. ‘Broadly speaking,’ Stefan Goebel argued, ‘in the British discourse of remembrance the concept of a new crusade prevailed.’58 That men later wrote memoirs using these allusions, suggests their belief in their chivalric crusade had not been affected by the reality and brutality of warfare. ‘The public at home, and to a certain extent the ground troops in France,’ William Fry explained, ‘could not understand that from the first the war in the air was conducted on chivalrous lines.’59 Although the reality would have been much more brutal, Fry saw his role in these romantic terms. The memoirs should be seen as a true reflection of the airman’s time at war, and the methods he developed to coax himself into the air. Memoirs, therefore, celebrate the success of aerial combat between 1914 and 1918 and this enthusiasm was shared by the public. When the RAF memorial was unveiled on 16 July 1923, the Prince of Wales, ‘left amid cordial cheers from the crowd’, a noticeable contrast to the sombre ceremony of the Cenotaph a few years earlier. The Prince’s unveiling speech captured the national enthusiasm for the pilot, paying tribute to those daring men: [They were] braving with high spirit the unknown dangers of warfare in a new element and dying to give us the final victory. Their exploits and undoubted courage have established a tradition for the new service, which our cloud armies of the future, whether in peace or war, will, I feel sure, follow with devoted pride.60 This glorification was not an accurate depiction of warfare nor the precarious political position of the 1920s. Yet this fantasy of air warfare

Philpott_Chap05.indd 184

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

185

helped to establish the RAF and prevented its return to a separate army and naval service, which the Admiralty had hoped for. Fundamentally, the mythical status of its men, and the traditional notions of heroism they were thought to personify, reinforced the political strength of the RAF in the inter-war years.

The Navy At the end of the First World War the Royal Navy also found its position changed. Although, the Admiralty had retained its political centrality, public enthusiasm had been dented by the seemingly poor naval contribution to victory. Unlike the Royal Flying Corps, naval heroism relied on collective identity and a catalogue of famous victories. As historian Jan Rueger suggested, ‘the cult of the navy’ prevalent in the years before 1914 created an expectation that by 1918 had been disappointed. The navy had cultivated its public identity, allying itself with nationalistic sentiment, holding numerous elaborate pageants and displays that marked it as the personification of the British Empire. ‘At its heart,’ Rueger argued, ‘were fleet reviews, launches of warships, and a range of rituals celebrating the nation and navy.’ It achieved this position in British self-projection by association with the ‘mass market of media and entertainment (illustrated magazines, mass-circulating newspapers, and the new and booming cinema)’, Rueger explained.61 At the start of the war there were high expectations for a swift and resolute naval victory, one in which both the media and the navy confidently believed. This section examines how the naval experience of war contributed to a loss of confidence and faith in the senior service. Most importantly, this section functions as a counterpoint to the previous section, charting the decline of the naval image rather than the growth of a fantasy, exploring the factors that led some sailors to express disappointment and even regret in their memoirs. During the first months of the war, enthused by media expectation, the public flocked to the country ports, Dover especially, to see the naval victory from the safety of the cliffs. Mabel Rudkin, a Dover resident, recalled the scene:

Philpott_Chap05.indd 185

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

186

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

The undercurrent of excitement in the town strengthened during the next three days; and the prospect of a naval engagement ushering in the war, was deemed a certain eventuality. This opinion was so firmly held that when two destroyers went out, at dusk, on Sunday, to keep watch, they were cheered by soldiers on the breakwater. The sailors aboard were regarded as adventurous vanguards destined to participate in an affray before the morning ... . Monday brought further trainloads of eager pilgrims from London and other inland places. Never in Dover’s History, an old inhabitant declared, had it beheld quite such a Bank Holiday congestion in its streets.62 As Rudkin shows, expectations were high and victory was a ‘certain eventuality’. Her vivid description captures the scene of cheering crowds who were mostly ‘trainloads of eager pilgrims from London’ keen to see the historic navy in action. Even her description of sailors as ‘adventurous vanguards’ is language more often found to describe pilots, such was the level of expectation. The Royal Navy was so closely aligned with British nationalism that it was a matter of national interest and pride that victory was achieved. At the end of hostilities, that association had suffered because a general naval inertia and the failure of the German navy to engage had led to stalemate in British waters. The public understanding of combat changed in response to the implications of trench warfare and it was this that latterly dominated the commemorative processes. The homogeneity of the navy was replaced in public affection by the individual and measurable concept of heroism displayed by the pilot who offered a human face to the experience of war. To understand the shift in public support, it is therefore necessary to examine the legacy of the naval war and the political changes of the 1920s.

Political and Economic Consequences of the Naval War The political settlement of the post-war period castigated the navy’s powers. The Washington Treaty of 1921–1922 heralded a period of

Philpott_Chap05.indd 186

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

187

disarmament intended to limit technological expansion that by default also restricted British naval development, and coincided with a reduction in government spending. Perhaps more than any other service, the nature of modern warfare had been hugely unsettling for the navy and it had proved slow to grasp the importance of the submarine during the war. Whilst many were loyal to the navy and retained their pride, this period saw the beginning of discontent among some memoirists which, combined with press attacks, began to alter attitudes to the navy. For the navy, this discontent stemmed from their failure to grasp the true nature of twentieth-century conflict and to act decisively in battle. ‘The war that unfolded between August 1914 and November 1918 turned out to be radically different from what it had been imagined as in the naval theatre,’ Rueger argued, where past glories and strategies were revered as the means to fight wars. Although the ‘Admiralty was less obsessed with the past and more ready to develop new technologies ... . [P]ublic ritual and ceremony meant that the nation, if not most of the navy, were “hypnotized by the past”,’ Rueger concluded.63 Although the navy had experimented with aeroplanes, submarines and covert technologies that would define the future of marine warfare, naval personnel had believed in a Trafalgar-like victory that was no longer possible. The post-war years, therefore, saw the beginning of a change in public opinion. The Royal Navy, once the personification of the British Empire, lost sympathy in a conflict whose memory was dominated by the specific sufferings of land warfare. Having endured the war together and experienced the disappointment of the Armistice, the Admiralty had to arrange for the demobilization of its ‘hostilities only’ men. Admiral Sir Roger Keyes recalled the eagerness of the men to leave service: A great many men in the Auxiliary Patrol wanted to be demobilised at once, in order to return to their shore jobs ... . [These men] who had faced death daily, minesweeping [sic] during the war, naturally enough were not the least interested in sweeping mines after the War was over.64

Philpott_Chap05.indd 187

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

188

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

However, demobilization exposed many men to the deprivations of the period. By 1934, Keyes sorrowfully recorded the fate of many veteran sailors: [Now,] with a heartache we see thousands of them tramping about with a look of dull hopeless despair, seeking for work. Surely there is a way out of the civil pass into which we have been led? I have one more dream, which I have not yet lived ... . A government which, deaf to the cry of misguided pacifists, will maintain sufficient armed forces to secure the sea communications and guard the outposts of the Empire – and ensure peace ... and find a way of disbanding our army of unemployed. Then, and not until then, will we who fought have kept faith with our men who died.65 The disappointment of the Armistice, of a war that had been indecisively won, stretched into the 1930s, offering a striking contrast to the heroic individualism of aerial memoirs published at the same time. For some naval men-who had believed they would win a significant battle, this was even more difficult to accept. Keyes’s feeling of ‘hopeless despair’ is extremely evocative and his reference to the ‘men who died’ in the service of the country demonstrated his concern with a costly peace that could not be reconciled with the high expectations of naval victory.

Naval Inertia and Lost Faith The decline in the public position of the navy began during the war and deterioration of support is evident throughout the conflict. There were three key points at which support began to ebb: the navy’s inability to protect the home front first at Hartlepool and later using the RNAS, the apparent ineptitude at the Battle of Jutland, and the perceived failure of the navy to hasten an Armistice. Each of these three events has been highlighted by memoirists and historians as moments of disillusion. The first of these, the bombardment of Hartlepool in December 1914, was the first attack on British civilians by the

Philpott_Chap05.indd 188

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

189

German Navy, which the Royal Navy did not intercept. As historian Peter Liddle explained, ‘no event in 1914 so seriously damaged public confidence in the Navy as did the “brazen effrontery of the German North East Coast Raid on 16th December 1916” ’.66 For the first time, England looked vulnerable and the navy was partially blamed for allowing the air raids that followed. The War Office recorded 20 raids in 1915, accounting for 54 civilian deaths and 107 injuries. Even in the official histories, the raids were seen as the result of naval inefficiency. Although ‘we usually had warning, hours in advance, of impending risks’, Official Historian H. A. Jones explained, ‘we profited little from our knowledge ... . There was, indeed, little or nothing effectively to impede the enemy coming and going as he wished on every favourable occasion.’67 Faith in the navy was given its most serious jolt by the Battle of Jutland in 1916, the only major engagement of the war. Fundamentally, the Royal Navy failed to utilize its advantageous position, allowing the German navy to escape. ‘Unrealistic public expectation, combined with clumsy public relations by the Admiralty fuelled the idea that Jutland had been a British defeat,’ historian Max Arthur explained. Although the navy was expecting to continue the fight the following day, the German ships had retreated, and the opportunity to inflict a crushing blow was lost. Jutland, therefore, created an unusual dissatisfaction in some naval officers who, in retrospect, felt Britain had wasted its opportunity to end the war. Sailor Stephen Hall wrote of the disappointment in his 1952 memoir. ‘We British made a mess of it,’ he maintained: We succeeded in getting between the German High Seas Fleet and its bases yet the enemy got home. Our ships were not so well built as those of the enemy and our communications system was lamentable. The failure of the British at Jutland to destroy the enemy probably prolonged the war for a year.68 Hall’s negative tone and use of ‘lamentable’ and ‘failure’ were not words often used by sailors, and demonstrate the extent to which affection for the navy had waned by the time he wrote.

Philpott_Chap05.indd 189

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

190

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Even earlier than this K. G. B. Dewar, in his 1939 memoir, wrote that the navy had squandered its chance at Jutland: The fundamental facts, that the British Battlefleet with two to one superiority in gun power, a slight superiority in torpedo power, and excess speed of four knots over the slowest German battleship and the advantage of very favourable positions, which rendered it practically immune from enemy gunfire, was partially engaged with the High Seas Fleet for two periods of about twenty minutes each. On both occasions, the enemy turned away. The greatest opportunity ... was lost through over-centralisation and lack of initiative.69 Writing on the eve of another war, Dewar was questioning the effectiveness of the navy. Rather than looking to celebrate their achievements in the Great War, in order to boost morale for the second, Dewar’s criticism instead shows a concern for the future. This strangulating hold over the initiative of individual captains, Hall and Dewar felt, caused that shift in public perception. This position, Dewer wrote, was made worse by the advantage of superior ships, and having a position that left them almost immune from retaliation. Jutland was the moment which public expectation had longed for, but it did not hasten victory. Britain’s overwhelming naval power, and its failure to use it at Jutland, embedded disappointment into the public memory. The battle damaged public support for the navy, not irrevocably, but enough. In an oral history interview conducted by the Imperial War Museum, Midshipman Henry St John Fancourt spoke of some early mistakes in 1915 in dealing with the U-boat. Quite succinctly, he said he did ‘not think the navy knew what it was doing at this stage: It hadn’t been at war for years.’70 Again official historians reported on the changing response to the navy. Arthur Marder noted that the press in 1917 claimed ‘the Navy was doing nothing very spectacular. Important segments of the press were down on the Admiralty for this reason. The Admiralty were said to be subordinating the tremendous fighting power of the Navy to an unimaginative “defensive” or “passive role” ’.71 This dislodged the heroic status of the Royal Navy

Philpott_Chap05.indd 190

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

191

in the eyes of their greatest advocates – their own sailors. Belief was slowly eroded over years of inaction and by 1916 the failure of the Royal Navy to end the war at Jutland, coinciding with the disasters on the Somme, was a turning point in public opinion of the premier service. ‘The mood of trust and confidence faded during the winter of 1915–1916,’ official historian Arthur Marder revealed: It was replaced by mounting discontent with the Navy, or, strictly speaking, with the Admiralty ... . More specifically, they held the Board of Trade and especially the Foreign Office responsible for the restrictions on the Navy, and they blamed the Admiralty for too great subservience to these departments ... . The general public did not understand the nature of maritime war any better in 1916 than they had in 1914. They wanted a battle, a big one.72 The effectiveness of naval leadership had been called into question, and some veteran-sailors felt the Admiralty had given them poor direction. ‘Officers of the Admiralty should never be allowed to usurp executive functions,’ Admiral Sir Roger Bacon complained in 1932. Instead, he thought, they ‘should be confined to transmission of information, and not to dictation, for their information must necessarily be tardy and incomplete.’73 In 1920, Douglas Browning, who had been Chief Censor of Radio Telegraphy felt that ‘in retrospect, the chief tragedy of the war was due to the lack of pluck and determination by those responsible at home’, which can be seen as an indirect swipe at the Admiralty and the ‘Establishment’.74 Whilst the country rejoiced at the end of the long years of conflict, members of the navy began to reflect on their own contribution to the war. Although the blockade was an essential element in the Allied armoury, it lacked the dramatic glamour of a decisive battle. In a letter to The Times on 27 June 1919, ‘Argus’ wrote of his frustration: While, therefore, it was only superior sea power that in fact made victory possible, yet in this victory sea power seemed to have no obvious or dramatic share at all ... . War, after all, is fighting. And when official approval was given to the withdrawal of the

Philpott_Chap05.indd 191

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

192

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

British Fleet when its greatest opportunity for fighting came, the character and public estimation of the Navy underwent a natural change.75 ‘Argus’ agreed that Jutland was a turning point in public affection, but in the two successive years, he felt that the navy had done little else to earn her victory. Stating that ‘War, after all, is fighting’ strongly suggests that the anonymous ‘Argus’ was himself a sailor writing under a pseudonym in order to publicly express his feelings on the war. Most importantly, like Dewar and Hall, he felt that the naval performance in the war had damaged ‘public estimation’, and, even more worrying, may have stunted the offensive ‘character’ of the navy. Lord Fisher, former First Sea Lord, in his series of letters for The Times in 1919, complained about the continued expenditure of the navy, terming it a ‘ruinous waste that the cost of the Fleet is now 140 millions a year!’ He was concerned that a change had occurred in the naval character during the conflict, meaning that the institution did not deserve to be so well funded: Thank God our pre-war Fleet was instantly ready and was efficiently ready to strike! But it didn’t! It was the Lord that struck! There was no Napoleon, no Nelson, no Sedan, no Trafalgar! 76 Fisher accused the Admiralty of spending millions but failing to provide the victory required of it. For a senior, and respected, official to write such a damning account reveals that attitudes to the navy were changing, even from within. Members of the Fleet who wrote of their frustration when the Armistice was declared shared Fisher’s concern. ‘The mood of the Royal Navy and the Admiralty as the war neared its end was grim,’ official historian Arthur Marder exclaimed: Beatty and the Grand Fleet could muster little zeal for an armistice that preceded a Trafalgar. This was needful to salvage British naval honour to bring glory to the C-in-C and the whole fleet. The senior service also felt aggrieved that the soldiers should

Philpott_Chap05.indd 192

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

193

have polished off the Kaiser without the Navy having its share of the fighting.77 The sailors of the Royal Navy were aggrieved that they had had little share in victory and had no role they could be proud of. ‘The greatest naval victory the world has ever seen was achieved without firing a single shot’, Gordon Maxwell complained, but it was ‘not the sort of victory the British Navy wanted, who, to a man, would have preferred to meet the enemy in open and fair fight at sea’.78 Maxwell, writing in 1920, blamed the German fleet for robbing the Royal Navy of its victory by not leaving their port, but other sailors were less forgiving of naval strategy. L. Cope Cornford, as early as 1919, blamed these failures on naval leadership: [The navy was] wholly unprepared for its task. It was deficient in numbers for its task. It was deficient in numbers of officers and men; it was deficient in numbers of vessels, it was deprived of protected bases; it was short of docks; there was no adequate organisation of coal and oil ... and the technical equipment of ships was inferior to the German equipment.79 Cornford’s repeated use of the word ‘deficient’ indicates the extent of his disappointment. His description of Britain as inadequately prepared, ‘deprived’ and ‘inferior’ were strong statements to have made so soon after the war, when monuments were being raised to celebrate the sacrifice of the trenches. Arthur Hungerford Pollen in his 1918 memoir recognized that the navy had been ineffectual. ‘Things went wrong in October 1914, for precisely the same reason that they went wrong in February, March and April 1915,’ he complained. The reason for this, he felt, was because the navy ‘had no clear doctrine as to what war meant, because we lacked the organism that could have ... prepared and trained the navy to a common understanding.’80 As with other memoirists, Pollen blamed naval leadership, and the centralization of control which he felt led them to repeatedly make the same mistakes throughout the war. During the First World War, therefore, a change began to take place in the public perception of the Royal Navy. Although men were

Philpott_Chap05.indd 193

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

194

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

proud to have taken part and the official presentation of the navy continued to speak of heroism and unity, some veterans, irrespective of how soon after the war they wrote, were disappointed by the naval victory. This was the beginning of a gradual reassessment of naval effectiveness during the First World War in the following decades. Cornford was concerned that the isolation of the naval officer was most damaging: Its result during the war, was to bring the country into a danger which the public have not yet understood ... . [T]he public are still solemnly impressed with the notion that the Navy is a great and holy mystery ... . As a matter of fact, this is all nonsense ... . The Navy owns an unexpressed sense of injury because the public do not appreciate it. How in the world can the public appreciate what they are not allowed to know?81 Far from the exclusivity that endeared the public to the pilot, the aloofness and introversion of the sailor damaged the reputation of the navy. All of these veterans produced their memoirs very quickly after the Armistice, stressing not only the freshness of their disappointments but also their need to add their story of war to counter the public ownership of commemoration. Sailor confidence in the naval leadership was undermined almost from the start of the conflict. So by the end of the war, with no decisive battles, the navy no longer represented the heroic aggression of the British Empire. The representation of combatants since the Great War is complex and inconsistent. Public expectation and notions of heroism used to encourage enlistment were incongruous with the mechanised dangers of twentieth-century warfare. The enduring depiction of soldiers and trenches has dominated the national memory of the First World War, but this was predominantly influenced by the developments of oral history in the 1960s that recorded the recollections of many veterans. The soldier poetry of Owen and Sassoon became a staple of the school curriculum from the 1970s, whilst the literary output of airmen and sailors was overlooked. Painting a picture of the drudgery and suffering of soldiers in the front line left little room for the other armed services

Philpott_Chap05.indd 194

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

R EPRESENTATIONS

OF

WAR

195

whose emotional experience was less affecting. Changes in the notions of heroism in the mid-twentieth century meant the anti-hero became celebrated. Men seen to have suffered, but not succeeded, consequently became more interesting and more human. Thus the sailor whose contribution to war had not met expectations and the airman who had presented himself as an almost two-dimensional classic hero no longer interested the nation. It was in fact the airman of the Battle of Britain that overtook the Great War pilot as the epitome of heroism. The Battle of Britain pilot acquiesced with this idea because his chances of survival were so slim. The Great War pilot was forgotten because the danger of his role was considered less, and certainly less immediately relevant to Britain’s national security than his latter incarnation. The representation of the Great War pilot consequently suffered from his 1920s presentation as carefree adventurer that has deflected historiography from the danger of his role. These developments placed the soldier firmly at the heart of Great War commemoration, overlooking the contribution of other servicemen. The legacy of the air war was two-fold; first, the establishment of the Royal Air Force that created a messy political compromise between the War Office and the Admiralty which dogged the progress of the RAF in the inter-war years. Yet the existence of the Royal Air Force owed much to the unwavering belief in aerial power demonstrated by the pilots of the First World War. They proved that the aeroplane would be among the most valuable weapons of the twentieth century. However, the political consensus of peace removed the momentum gained by conflict. To survive, the air force rebuilt itself, with a new base of recruits who created a new ethos. The University Air Squadrons, which exist to this day as a reserve in times of war, and the formal Boy’s Service became important hunting grounds for young recruits and ensured the longevity of the RAF. Ultimately then, longterm political will was in favour of the RAF and public imagination was on their side. The Great War significantly affected the political positions of the navy and the airforce. Although both struggled with the aftermath of conflict, the RAF rose high in public estimation and consolidated its future. Both pilot and sailor-veteran responses to the war created that

Philpott_Chap05.indd 195

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

196

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

public opinion to some degree. The enduring fantasy of the hero-pilot was used by veterans as the basis for their reflections on war. The cult of the hero-pilot cultivated by the RAF in the post-war years made a significant contribution to its independent status. Most importantly, the airman stood as the antithesis of mechanised war; he was the man who had fought alone, in direct contact with the enemy, epitomizing chivalric notions of duty and giving a human face to heroism. This was an alternative method of remembrance by the members of the RAF in the inter-war period. Naval memoirs, meanwhile, whilst honouring their parent service and proud of their adherence to duty, expressed some disappointment at the nature of victory and the centralization of policy that blunted the initiative of the individual officer. Arguably, the British blockade made a huge contribution to victory, but this quiet performance from the nation’s saviour was not the crushing victory the public had hoped for. In 1914, the navy was the force that had earned Britain an Empire; expectations were raised. When the reality of conflict proved otherwise, and when decisive victory on land or sea seemed unlikely, faith in the navy began to falter. ‘When I joined the Admiralty,’ Dewar complained, ‘it was nobody’s business to plan or think ahead in the Operations Division ... . [Consequently] no preparations were made for contingencies which might arise in the future.’82 In 1939 Dewar had concluded that the navy had no clear plan to defeat the High Seas Fleet and when war deviated from the predicted format, naval invulnerability was undermined. By contrast, the RAF had an exclusive mystique founded on its wartime successes. The public in the 1920s needed heroes to celebrate, but the inconclusive and largely stationary experience of soldiers and sailors had not met their hopes. The legacy of the services in the Great War is grounded in the notion that the navy had not met expectations whilst the Royal Flying Corps had far exceeded them. These concepts were reflected in the writings of veterans who found them meaningful constructs with which to shape the memory of their war experience.

Philpott_Chap05.indd 196

3/24/2013 10:32:16 PM

CONCLUSION

On 11 November 2008 the last surviving veterans of the First World War approached the Cenotaph to lay their wreaths at its base. These three men, Harry Patch, Henry Allingham and Bill Stone, represented each of the services which 90 years earlier, to the hour, reached the end of the most destructive conflict Europe had ever seen. Unknown at the time, this would be the very last time all three services would be represented by Great War veterans at a Remembrance Day ceremony.1 The flurry of media activity sparked by that event reinforced Britain’s enduring obsession with the First World War. Its emotional impact continues to haunt the country who nearly a century later still celebrates the heroism and self-sacrifice of the men who fought it. The presence of these three men at the Cenotaph also emphasized the centrality of the Great War experience in their own lives, which after 90 years still drew them to honour the men who had died. The effect of the First World War on the men who fought was profound and complex. Some never spoke of it to their families, whilst others spent the remainder of their lives writing and rewriting their experiences, searching for meaning. Whether they felt the period had been good or bad, and there was certainly no common experience, the effect of war upon the men of all services was significant. Each man’s response to war was contingent on many factors. Much would depend on his service, his rank, the geographical area(s) in which he fought, his age, beliefs and attitude, whether he was volunteer or conscript, his

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 197

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

198

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

civilian work and family, his education and previous experience and a multitude of other factors relating to his personality and approach. All these elements combined to form the individual’s war experience and the only thing that is clear is that for the ‘famous authors and the ordinary man who returned to his ordinary civilian life, it was a life of remembrance’.2 H. H. Balfour exemplified this notion in the preface to his 1933 memoir: The main background and the foundations of life for those of my age, must be the War years. We graduated from boyhood to manhood between 1914 and 1918, and in spite of the passage of time, we cannot help but judge the events of life in the light of the standards ingrained into us by the high spots of life and the depths of resignation to its surrender which were the extremes of those days.3 Yet it was not a life of regret. Most men felt it was their duty to participate, and they had sustained some form of motivation throughout the conflict. This was first a product of the training men received. In both the Royal Navy and Royal Flying Corps, combatants were taught to form strong bonds of loyalty within the service. The navy called upon its illustrious history, whilst the Flying Corps emphasized its youth and freedom to carve out a position. Throughout the conflict, in the diaries and letters of combatants, men repeatedly referred to the glories of their service and the duty they performed. Alan Bott, in his wartime memoir, was keen to predict a significant future for the RFC when ‘hostilities in the air will become as decisive as hostilities on land or sea’.4 That continued belief in the purpose of the air war was very important in sustaining the airman. Not only did Bott believe Britain would win, but his fledgling air service had proven its vitality. As W. T. Blake noted, that thought was of a ‘great deal more importance thousands of feet above the earth than actually on it, and it is the superior moral [sic] of our Air Service that continually gives us the victory.’5 This dedication to the RFC created a contract of honour that bound men to fight, whatever the consequences. There was also

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 198

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

CONCLUSION

199

genuine enthusiasm to be at war and those like Lieutenant Colonel Wikinson ‘were excessively proud of being included in the squadron, and exceedingly anxious that it should not fail in its mission.’6 Almost from the first moment of putting on the uniform, men felt part of the overarching body of the Royal Flying Corps and began to develop strong loyalties to their service. That loyalty was mutually rewarding and men took responsibility for their role in the conflict. Because the airman was able to earn his place in the war machine, through his intelligence work above the German trenches and by developing methods for the offensive protection of the British lines, the pride created within the Royal Flying Corps was quite different to that of other services. It reinforced the bond between the service and its personnel. Men were proud to be part of a new and dynamic corps and, in return, they were entrusted with developing the machinery and techniques to ensure that it would become a permanent aspect of Britain’s armoury. By contrast, the dedication of Royal Naval personnel was allied with its tradition and history. Many of the men who fought in the First World War had learned naval customs and traditions during their teenage years, undergoing six years of training and inculcation. Their affection for the service emphasized previous victories and famous heroes, which trainee sailors hoped to emulate. At the start of the war, the navy was held high in the public esteem and it was this affection that drew recruits. The training sailors received looked to the glories of the past and to the example of heroes to guide them in times of difficulty. A training guide for officers, written by H. W. Richmond, stressed, even as late as 1933, that theorising was not sufficient and it was ‘the shabbiest insult to the hero’s memory if no effort is made to master and to apply the lessons, which the careers of Nelson and his like furnish’.7 The reputation of the Royal Navy rested in the creation of memorable battles to maintain their place in public affection and this led to high expectations from its sailors. Sailors felt privileged to be part of the navy and this was essential to maintaining motivation when conflict left them with an unexpectedly minor role. Sailors patrolled for weeks and, without the climactic sea battle that many had expected, they did not feel they had made

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 199

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

200

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

a notable contribution to ending the war. Sustaining momentum in these times was difficult and men looked to their service to support them. ‘The really great strength of the Royal Navy ... had been its supreme self-confidence,’ Official Historian Arthur Marder explained, leading to ‘an innate conviction of invincibility ... its espirit de corps and strong sense of professional pride.’ The success of the navy in the Great War was not in winning a battle based on matériel, but in overwhelming the High Seas Fleet, so that it could not chance a full-scale encounter. It was, Marder continued, the spirit of the Royal Navy that gave it the ‘priceless power of initiative, improvisation, and, above all, confidence’.8 It was this certainty that allowed individuals to sustain momentum throughout the conflict, drawing support from a shared service unity. The key motivational factor for both the RFC and navy was, therefore, the sense of exclusivity that allowed them to feel they were part of a specialized group, contributing to the war in ways that few others had the opportunity to do. The privilege of fighting as a pilot or sailor was common to both services and, despite their operational and combative differences, connects them. All the other factors of war, men’s response to training, to fighting, to technology and to its memory, hinge on this one unifying element. This shared sense of privilege encouraged in training and through the allegiances of the squadron or ship created a group identity for fighting. For the airmen of the Royal Flying Corps, the squadron entity became increasingly important, and thereby more exclusive, when formation flying was used to protect intelligence flights over the German lines. Even before this, pilots relied on shared amusements and the entertainments available at their base to distract them from the toils of war. These were privileges unshared by other services. Quartermaster Frank Haylett wrote from his camp at Salisbury Plain to assure his family that he was ‘making & finding friends – as I told you before many of the RFC men have their own cars ... . Well I have “chummed up” with one with a car & I tell you we go it strong.’ That many of the squadron had cars at this time, and were able to use them at their camp for recreation, was a privilege awarded only to pilots. Even regimental concerts in which the men participated were described in terms of exclusivity, emphasizing the professional-level talents of

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 200

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

CONCLUSION

201

the men involved. These occasions, as Haylett recalled, were ‘awfully good – there are many professionals among our Corps & the “turns” we get are as good as a top London Hall.’ His camp was fortunate to contain ‘a cornet soloist with 11 gold medals & also a pianist who has played at the Queen’s Hall.’ 9 Such opportunities were essential to create a sense of community to which all men would turn in combat. Fostering genuine affection for one another in leisure times ensured men would be disposed to fight harder for one other in battle. The navy was also motivated by its sense of exclusivity but it utilized its history and hierarchy to promote loyalty amongst the men of the Royal Navy. Sailors also formed genuine bonds with the men on their ship. It was this loyalty, described by E. F. Knight as ‘old-fashioned patriotism’ embodied in the routines and customs of centuries, with which all men identified.10 This was no less effective than the methods of the RFC, and it created an extremely strong devotion to service that lasted throughout the war. The Navy’s very existence was based on a sense of honour that each man should have towards his fellows. Although there were informal opportunities to form close friendships and spend leisure time together, each man had an overarching duty to the ship, to sublimate the self for the greater purpose. It was this common goal that maintained his loyalty. Stephen Hall emphasized the exclusivity which the men of the navy felt; being ‘one company’ suggests the unity of a small group of men, lucky enough to have fought together.11 The privilege of fighting together meant that many combatants enjoyed the experience of war, and for historians this has been one of the most controversial aspects of the historiography. Since the 1960s the horrific experience of the soldier in the trenches has dominated the collective memory of the First World War and ascribed to them a victimhood that absolved them of responsibility for the war. Yet for many men, their time at war was an enjoyable experience, allowing them to fulfil what many saw as a test of their manliness. Pilots in particular have written enthusiastically about the war. ‘You must know,’ Frank Haylett wrote, ‘that I have really striven hard to bring a little lustre to our modest home in this war ... . Personally I am feeling very fit + well + probably looking younger & less worried than when I joined up.’12 Although men

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 201

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

202

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

often spoke optimistically to buoy up their relatives, Haylett evidently felt the war was having a beneficial effect on his health and was proud to be doing his duty in the RFC. Amongst pilots there was an enjoyment of conflict because it offered freedom, honour and a chance for each man to embody the expectations of the RFC. As the last chapter has shown, even many years later pilots continued to feel that they had an inimitable experience. It ‘was a wonderful life we pilots led’, William Fry insisted 60 years later.13 H. H. Balfour, having eloquently defended the brilliance of character shown by his fellow pilots, confirmed that he ‘left the Royal Air Service with no regrets’.14 The experience of life in the Royal Flying Corps was such that men continued to speak positively about it for much of their lives. ‘If only you realized the feeling of optimism that infuses us & the French,’ pilot Philip Joubert de la Ferte wrote encouragingly to his mother, ‘you would not all be in the dumps, the way you have been the last three months.’15 The only reason for Joubert de la Ferte’s enthusiasm was that men enjoyed the experience. This is in contrast to some soldiers in the inter-war period who began to question their participation. Much has been made in writings on the First World War of the helplessness of men faced with little means of preventing disaster, yet the pilots of the Great War, like Arthur Gould Lee, wrote ‘that the daily risk of a violent end was accepted unconcernedly’.16 Motivation was maintained because war was worth enduring. By contrast, sailors had less to enjoy. The experience of this war was unusual because it involved so little naval fighting. Yet the chance to be in the navy was worth the unexciting conditions. The disappointment recorded by sailors at the Armistice is indicative of the dedication they felt to their service and the continued enjoyment of their role. ‘Despite the war-weariness, Grand Fleet morale remained extraordinarily high during 1918,’ Official Historian Arthur Marder explained. Sailors were disappointed not to have played a decisive role in victory and, as the last chapter has shown, some reflected critically on their war experience. Yet this was not suggestive of poor morale but of an eagerness to fulfil their service aspirations. They remained loyal to the navy and wanted to be a significant part of winning the war. Douglas King-Harman’s long account of the Battle of Jutland,

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 202

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

CONCLUSION

203

which he sent with a letter to his parents in 1916, described in great detail the moment when ‘the fleet drew out into line, more and more of them came into action, till about 7 pm when the whole line was engaged – an extraordinary and wonderful sight.’17 His evident pride and excitement at being part of these significant events was clearly an important experience for King-Harman and one that his role in the navy had supplied. Although the sea war was rarely livened by such battles, the enthusiasm of the men for the task was unfaltering. King-Harman insisted, ‘I wouldn’t be anywhere else except here for anything.’18 Being part of the war was essential and, for many men, that task was made enjoyable by being a part of the navy and having the rare chance to fulfil the honourable expectations of duty to which many had held. The sense of exclusivity also filtered into combatants’ attitudes to their weaponry. The aeroplane, for example, was central to the personal involvement of airmen in the developments and direction of war. Consequently, they were very attached to and proudly responsible for their craft. ‘Our aeroplanes are absolutely it in this district and you would have loved to see them gambling [sic] about over the Lines,’ H. G. Downing enthusiastically noted; they were ‘absolutely indifferent to the Archies & about dusk you see a white light fired from one of the machines & then the air is full of them fooling about like a lot of school boys diving at haystacks or skimming houses. Some sport!’19 The aeroplane was simultaneously their carriage, their protection and their weapon. Often personally adapted to improve performance, it was the most important asset they possessed and consequently men like Downing would strive to improve their machine and retain their aerial superiority. As the discussion of technology has demonstrated, this personal involvement in the development of machinery was central to the evolution of the Flying Corps. Many of the key initiatives were pilot-led and it was this freedom to control the process of war that added to their feelings of exclusivity. As the war progressed and the value of aerial strategy became accepted, the demand for machinery both in terms of numbers and specification correspondingly increased. New aeroplanes with greater climbing rates, speeds and abilities were constantly

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 203

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

204

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

challenging pilots and they had significant input into the means to counter and exceed them. This level of involvement was peculiar to the airforce, made possible by the more relaxed hierarchical structure. With no defined place in the combat system in 1914, the men of the Flying Corps had to create one, and in doing so initiated some of the most important features of twentieth-century aviation. Sailors also took great pride in the physical superiority of the navy over the corresponding German fleet and were therefore motivated by technological prowess to some degree. Historian Jan Rueger has explained that the resources of the navy provoked ‘admiration and curiosity. The battleships of the Dreadnought era were icons of the rationality and efficiency of the machine age.’20 The men of the Royal Navy agreed that they were lucky to hold the advantage at the start of war. Captain C. de Burgh of HMS Antrim was ‘very pleased & full of confidence’ in August 191421 and it did not take Frederick Allen long to learn that ‘H. M. ships were built primarily for fighting, comfort did not enter into it’.22 Much of this confidence was based on the greater resources of the Royal Navy, which throughout the war assured sailors of certain victory. ‘Even more decisive than the high standards of British seamanship,’ Marder argued, was ‘the relative numerical strength of the two navies and the confidence of the British officers in their superiority.’23 They were certain that when the longawaited fight came they were in a privileged position and would be able to overwhelm the enemy and achieve the war-ending final victory they desired. The exclusivity of the airman extended into his attitude to the enemy and to death. Pilots were able to communicate with their opponents, even when not in combat. Francis ‘Bert’ Pattenden described one such occasion in February 1916: Anyhow the German aviators are absolute sports and are plucky enough. If one of our machines is brought down by them they will come over during the next few days in a machine and drop a note (if possible in the pilot’s squadrons’ vicinity) saying whether he is alright or if wounded or killed. I reckon that shows rather a decent spirit.24

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 204

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

CONCLUSION

205

The British, he continued, extend the same courtesy to the Germans and had developed small canvas bags with various coloured streamers attached. Sometimes this news could revive a concerned squadron and was a vital motivator. Pilots often dropped notes to each other to assure the opposing squadron that their captured man was well, and to request any essentials he needed to ensure his comfort. One squadron member dropped a ‘toothbrush, razor, some clothes and all soap we could lay our hands on ... . Dropped package, circled again and dropped second package of cigarettes for German squadron.’25 The friendly relations between the two services did not deter either from their task but made the experience of war more human and reasonable for both sides. As the last chapter suggested, men constructed for themselves a notion of knightly duty and felt they were fulfilling notions of honourable combat. Sharing information on the fate of pilots was just the decent thing to do, and for the RFC was an essential part of their exclusive bond. Unlike the other services, pilots were able to retain their humanity and individuality during the conflict, aided by these gestures towards their enemies. Sailors had far less involvement in individual deaths and did not, on the whole, reflect on the humanity of their enemy. References to the opposition spoke of the High Seas Fleet as a homogenous body, not of particular captains or people. This is because the men of the navy spoke of themselves as ‘the navy’, subsuming their own individuality into the whole. Lionel Dawson mused on that idea in his 1933 memoir, realising that ‘anything outside the Service was of little importance, and that time employed on matters unconnected with it wasted.’26 So confident of certain victory were the sailors of certain victory that their attitude towards the enemy was primarily one of contempt. Most discussions of the enemy concentrated on the German failure to leave their bases and face a decisive fight. Paul Nesham writing about the Battle of Jutland in 1916 recorded ‘the Huns obviously got cold feet when they are fired at – or else they have no ammunition left – & don’t seem to have the guts either. And the opinion seems to be that they would not come out again in a hurry.’27 The contempt Nesham shows for the enemy is clear and using the terms ‘Huns’ and ‘they’ suggests he did not think of them as human. The reasons for this lie in the nature

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 205

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

206

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

of Royal Naval experience. Many of the men who staffed the navy in this conflict were long-serving and used to battle conditions. The routines of the naval day were designed to keep men in permanent readiness to fight. The elements of motivation were various and personal, but ultimately to sustain their commitment to war men had to feel that it was worth enduring. For the Royal Flying Corps the process of war was invigorating. What began as a very minor role supporting the army evolved into a permanent and essential service, which the pilots of the RFC fundamentally created. Even more important for the airman was his tangible contribution to the war and enthusiasm for the sensation of flight. Aviation was a cutting-edge science and pilots developed key technologies and affected strategy. This ensured that flight continued to fascinate. ‘The sensation during a flight in the air is one of exhilaration and complete confidence in the result’, W. T. Blake insisted and it was this allure that motivated men to keep flying.28 It was an exciting time to be an airman, and whilst men like Carroll Dana Winslow explained that flying was ‘far more dangerous than fighting in the trenches, yet there are many who have preferred the extra risk ... . I believe there is at present a waiting list of over six thousand men.’29 This enjoyment of flying and that sense of exclusivity galvanized pilots who appreciated their privileged position as members of the newest service. Feeling exclusive allowed a pilot to detach himself from the rest of the war, letting him perform the multiple roles of comrade, killer and combatant. H. H. Balfour described using it to cope with his time in the air: This period was one in which I first realised the full terror of aerial combat, but at the same time learnt in some way to cultivate detachment of mind which enabled one, not to overcome fear but to separate oneself from it ... but once in the fight one became impersonal: some secondary person did the right thing at the right moment.30 The war comprised a series of tasks to be achieved each day and, when it was broken down in this way, men had neither the time nor the

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 206

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

CONCLUSION

207

inclination to consider the wider perspective. In the meantime, each man had a role to perform: to support his colleagues and to achieve the daily objectives of his Squadron. Almost nothing, L. A. Strange recalled, could distract men from their task even though after ‘a long day’s flying you feel you have had enough and don’t even want to go up again, but after a day’s rest you are as keen as ever.’31 This depersonalization of task, of dislocation with the larger war experience, kept men fighting. It was this ability to endure, to maintain enthusiasm for their role as an elite service, that ensured the Royal Flying Corps became the most successful service in the Great War, and earned its permanence as the Royal Air Force. The sailors of the Royal Navy also focused on their exclusivity to maintain motivation. Like the Flying Corps, the naval role in the Great War was not the one foreseen at the outset. Nonetheless it was a difficult task, more akin to the weeks of waiting and watching experienced in the trenches than the warfare sailors aspired to. The stalemate of the sea war meant that seamen had to rely more heavily on their service culture than before, so strict hierarchy and discipline were fundamental in supporting the naval officer in this new role. They had been trained to act in battle, but were at a loss when the enemy failed to engage. More than ever, men were dependent on their sense of duty to Britain and to the service to help them endure. These men were always ‘navy first’, and devoted themselves to upholding its values. Although the navy suffered in terms of public acclaim, they overwhelmed the High Seas Fleet and prevented a German victory. It was not the glamorous and decisive victory sailors had expected, but it was a confident one. Many of the officers had served in the navy for many years, experiencing life at war and during peacetime, and were used to the regulations and trials of spending weeks at sea. For younger men, the years of naval training had prepared them for the nature of the work they would undertake. Consequently, the navy was better prepared for war than the other services because they were both more familiar with the men and ships they would be fighting in, and had a greater professional culture to draw upon for support. That sense of loyalty, the honour of the premier service and their patriotic duty to Britain, motivated and sustained the sailors of the Royal Navy.

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 207

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

208

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

The Contribution of the RFC and Navy to Great War Studies In 1918, there were 265,000 men in the Royal Air Force and 415,000 men in the Royal Navy. Each played a vital role in Britain’s victory in the Great War yet their experiences have largely been forgotten. For Henry Allingham and Bill Stone, recent media acclaim celebrated their longevity and importance as the last survivors of this conflict. But as they approached the Cenotaph to lay their wreaths in November 2008, few understood or even recognized what their contribution to the war had been. There has never been a comprehensive academic study of the airman or sailor in the Great War, and for the three-quarters of a million men who served in the Royal Flying Corps and the Royal Navy, their history has never been written. Since the 1960s, when oral history interviews reawakened Britain’s interest in the First World War, historians and the public have been fascinated by soldiers’ lives. The dark experience of the trenches has permeated British culture from novels to films to comedy shows, and continues to have a strong emotional resonance. At remembrance ceremonies across the country it is the poetry of soldiers that is frequently quoted, and when the work of Owen and Sassoon became a staple of classroom teaching, the prevalence of the soldier experience became embedded in the national consciousness. Simultaneously, many significant historians have deepened our understanding of soldier experiences, refuting the notions of mass disillusionment and slaughter that have dominated the national memory. More recently the motivation of soldiers has been examined, especially in reference to notions of masculinity and killing; thus our understanding of every element of soldiers’ lives and contributions is comprehensive. In many ways the understanding of soldier motivation has come full circle. Whilst historians have rejected ideas of disillusionment there has been a revival in ascribed ideas of honour and duty, which soldier’s professed in their own diaries and letters. The next step is to extend that understanding to the pilots and sailors of the Great War, to grasp Britain’s full involvement in and approach to this conflict.

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 208

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

CONCLUSION

209

The combat experience for the navy and the airforce were very different to each other and to the army. Historians have largely dismissed both contributions to Britain’s eventual success in the Great War. Yet the pilots, sailors and even soldiers of the war, as well as many contemporaries, celebrated the value of all services in the years immediately following the Armistice. The cult of the airman that was created in the 1920s, discussed in the last chapter, and the continuing political power of the Admiralty were evident. Historians have often looked backwards from the perspective of the 1939–1945 war, viewing aerial encounters, in particular, as merely setting a precedent for the Battle of Britain. This perspective is quite flawed and discounts not only the work of all services in creating victory but also dismissed the views of contemporaries who celebrated the power of the navy and the excitement of the airforce. Histories of the RFC and Royal Navy have been written as records of strategy and technology. This book has utilized many of the techniques that are now commonplace in writing about soldiers’ lives and applied them to the equally valuable role of pilots and sailors. By putting the human element back into the understanding of these services, it has explored the full war experience of these men and how they continued to motivate themselves and their colleagues to fight. The contribution of the Royal Flying Corps to the Great War was manifold. Without it, the British army would have had far less intelligence on the German trench systems and, vitally, on the ranging of the artillery. Without the RFC and its hard-won aerial superiority on the Western Front, German pilots would have been frequent visitors over the British lines and this would have had a detrimental effect on the morale of the British army. Similarly without the RFC, German Zeppelins and Gothas would have had free reign over England to drop their bombs on the civilian population. The RFC made a substantial contribution to the technological, scientific and strategic growth of Britain in the Great War. Aviation was at the cutting edge of science at that time and in competition with Germany, the Royal Flying Corps was able to drive development of aeroplanes and the aircraft industry. The enthusiasm for flight, demonstrated by the young pilots, ensured that almost all potential avenues for aviation were explored; there have been few new uses for aeroplanes, only refinements on the pioneering

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 209

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

210

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

work of 1914–1918. Photography, mapmaking, intelligence patrols, dogfighting, bombing, agent dropping and the first inklings of civilian transport were all successfully conceived in this conflict and developed by the men who flew. The pilots of the Great War were the reason that aviation was accepted by the military elite, and they were rewarded by becoming Britain’s permanent third service, the Royal Air Force. The Royal Navy has also been assigned an anonymous role in the Great War, but without it the High Seas Fleet would have been free to control the North Sea and English Channel. Potentially, this would have meant attacks on the British coastlines as experienced by Hartlepool and Scarborough in December 1914 that would have undermined civilian morale. There would have been attacks on troop transports to and from France, and the German navy would have had access to the Atlantic where Britain’s own supply ships were vulnerable. The very presence of the Royal Navy was sufficient to prevent the German fleet from leaving port and this made co-ordinating Britain’s war effort immeasurably easier. Although the navy’s role was largely defensive, the effect of the German blockade cannot be overestimated. By restricting supplies of food and materials, the Royal Navy ensured that Germany could not continue to fight the war on any front and ceded defeat in 1918. By examining the lives of all the men who fought in the Great War we come closer to understanding why this conflict has dominated British culture for almost a century. It was a war fought on many fronts and in many countries, utilizing all the resources of the British Empire. The most important resource of all were the men themselves, who came forward in their millions to be part of the conflict. They fought on land, sea and in the sky because they felt it was their duty to do so. Understanding why men chose to participate and how they maintained belief in a British victory, whatever service they joined, is vital. Returning the men of the Royal Flying Corps and Royal Navy to studies of the Great War means Britain has a complete understanding of its first total war, and the consequences of conflict in the twentieth century. Most importantly, it allows us to finally understand the debt we owe to Henry Allingham, Harry Patch and Bill Stone, the last survivors of the Great War.

Philpott_Conclusion.indd 210

3/24/2013 10:32:38 PM

NOTES

Introduction 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

6.

7. 8. 9.

10.

Charles D. Smart, RAF Ref B2207, 4 February 1917 Douglas King-Harman, IWM Ref 99/35/1, 25 May 1917 See Laurence Binyon’s poem ‘The Fallen’ written in 1914 Sub-Committee on Imperial Defence, ‘Control of Aircraft’, 3 February 1913, National Archives, AIR 1/653/17/22/489 Sub-Committee on Imperial Defence, ‘Report of the Sub-Committee of Imperial Defence on Aerial Navigation’, 29 February 1912, National Archives, AIR 1/653/17/22/489 Extract from the Aldershot Annual Report for 1913, in War Office, ‘Establishment of the Royal Flying Corps for which Accommodation Should be Provided’, 2 June 1913, National Archives, WO 32/7212 National Archives WO 32/7212 Sub-Committee on Aerial Navigation, 29 February 1912 Letter from the Secretary War Office to Secretary Admiralty – 7 August 1912, National Archives, AIR 1/653/17/122/489 Reference will be made to the pilots of the Royal Naval Air Service only when similarities in flying experience or operational necessity brought the two air services together. Their chief influence was in Home Defence where the RNAS will be discussed in more detail. The aviation terms such as ‘Flying Officer’ or ‘Wing Commander’ would come much later with the establishment of the Royal Air Force. During the First World War, the RFC was a part of the army, and this was reflected in its terminology.

Philpott_Notes.indd 211

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

212

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

11. Sub-Committee of Imperial Defence, 29 February 1912 12. James McCudden, Flying Fury: Five Years in the Royal Flying Corps (Folkestone: Bailey Brothers & Swifen, 1973 [1968]) p. 1 13. William Fry, Air of Battle (London: William Kimber, 1974) p. 35 14. William A. Bishop, Winged Warfare (Folkestone: Bailey Brothers & Swifen, 1975) p. 23 15. R. H. Kiernan, The First War in the Air (London: Peter Davis Ltd, 1934) pp. 171–2 16. War Office, ‘Training Manual, Royal Flying Corps, Part II (Military Wing)’ (1915) National Archives, WO 33, 737 17. Ibid. 18. See Jan Rueger, The Great Naval Game: Britain & Germany in the Age of Empire (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007) and Niall Ferguson, The Pity of War (London: The Penguin Press, 1998) 19. Edgar Middleton, The Great War in the Air, Volume 1 (London: The Waverley Books Co., 1920) pp. 140–41 20. Henry Newbolt, A Naval History of the War 1914–1918 (London: Hodder & Stoughton, c.1920s) 21. Geoffrey Norris, The Royal Flying Corps: A History (London: Frederick Muller, 1965) p. 7 22. Ibid., p. 115 23. Douglas Robinson, The Zeppelin in Combat. A History of the German Naval Airship Division 1912–1918 (Henley-on-Thames: G. T. Foullis & Co., 1962) p. 345 24. Geoffrey Bennett, Naval Battle of the First World War (London: B T Batsford, 1968) pp. 23, 252–3 25. Corelli Barnett, The Swordbearers (London: Eyre & Spottiswood, 1968) 26. Martin Middlebrook, The First Day on the Somme (London: Penguin Press, 1971) 27. Alan Clarke, Aces High: The War in the Air Over the Western Front (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1973) p. 14 28. Ibid., pp. 68–9 29. Edwyn Gray, A Damned Un-English Weapon (London: Seeley Services, 1971) p. 188 30. ———. The Killing Time (London: Seeley Service, 1972) pp. 55–6 31. Tony Ashworth, Trench Warfare 1914–1918 (London: Macmillan, 1980) p. 21 32. Trevor Wilson, The Myriad Faces of War: Britain & the Great War 1914–1918 (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1986) p. 677 33. Christopher Cole & E. F. Cheeseman, The Air Defence of Britain 1914–18 (London: Putnam, 1984) p. vi

Philpott_Notes.indd 212

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

NOTES

213

34. Richard Hough, The Great War at Sea 1914–1918 (Oxford: Oxford University Press 1983) pp. 49, 99 35. See Alan Clarke, Aces High: The War in the Air Over the Western Front 1914–18, discussed earlier 36. George Mosse, The Image of Man: The Creation of Modern Masculinity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996) 37. Joanna Bourke, Dismembering the Male: Men’s Bodies & the Great War (London: Reaktion Books, 1996); An Intimate History of Killing: Face-to-Face Killing in Twentieth-Century Warfare (London: Granta Books, 1999) 38. J. G. Fuller, Troop Morale and Popular Culture in the British & Dominion Armies 1914–1918 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991) pp. 4, 23, 154 39. Samuel Hynes, A War Imagined (London: The Bodley Head, 1990) p. 353 40. Adrian Gregory, The Silence of Memory (Oxford: Berg Publishers, 1994) 41. Jay Winter, The Great War and the British People (London: Macmillan, 1985) p. 300 42. David Edgerton, England and the Aeroplane: An Essay on a Militant and Technological Nation (London: Macmillan, 1991) 43. Jan Rueger, The Great Naval Game: Britain and Germany in the Age of Empire (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007) 44. ———. ‘Nation, Empire and Navy: Identity Politics in the United Kingdom 1887–1914’, Past & Present, No. 185 (November 2004) 45. Joshua Levine, On a Wing and a Prayer (London: Collins, 2008) 46. Aribert Reimann, ‘Popular Culture and the Reconstruction of British Identity’, in Berghoff, Hartmut, & von Friedeburg, Robert (eds), Change and Inertia: Britain Under the Impact of the Great War (London: Philo, 1998) pp. 99–120 47. A. J. Robinson, IWM Ref 84/31/1 48. Paul Fussell, The Great War & Modern Memory (Oxford: Oxford University Press) p. 310 49. Ken Plummer, Documents of Life 2 (London: Sage Publications, 2001) pp. 191–2

Chapter 1 Training 1. 2. 3. 4.

Joanna Bourke, An Intimate History of Killing, p. 67 Geoffrey Norris, The Royal Flying Corps: A History, p. 25 Peter Hart, Bloody April: Slaughter in the Skies over Arras 1917 (London: Cassell, 2006) p. 106 Leonard H. Rochford, I Chose the Sky (London: William Kimber, 1977) p. 19

Philpott_Notes.indd 213

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

214

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

5. L. A. Strange, Recollections of an Airman (London: John Hamilton Ltd, 1933) p. 18 6. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, (London: Naval & Military Press, 1999 [1922]) 7. F. C. Penny, IWM Ref 76/16/1, pp. 6–7 8. Ibid., pp. 7–9 9. Dudley McKergow, RAF Ref X002–5594/003 10. F. C. Penny, IWM Ref 76/16/1, pp. 6–7 11. Central Flying School, Hints for Young Instructors on How to Instruct in Flying (London: HMSO, 1916) p. 10 12. Dudley McKergow, RAF Ref X002–5594/003 13. Central Flying School, Hints for Young Instructors on How to Instruct in Flying, p. 5 14. F. C. Penny, IWM Ref 76/16/1, p. 10 15. John Ross, The Royal Flying Corps Boy Service, RFC-RNAS-RAF: The Link is Forged (London: Regency Press, 1990) p. 46 16. For more information on the combat experience and the daily life of pilots between sorties, please see Chapter 2. 17. W. T. Blake, The Royal Flying Corps in the War (London: Cassell & Co, 1918) p. 11 18. Dudley McKergow, RAF Ref X002–5594/003 19. William Fry, Air of Battle, p. 43 20. Dudley McKergow, RAF Ref X002–5594/003, Letter to Mother, April 1917 21. Ibid 22. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, p. 502 23. William Fry, Air of Battle, pp. 113–114 24. Geoffrey Wall, RAF Ref AC/1998/10/11 – Letter to father, 30 July 1917 25. Denis Winter claims that more than half the pilots killed in the Great War died during training in the UK. This was discussed in Parliament on 20 June 1918 where the Secretary of State for War claimed that pilots themselves were to blame as ‘discipline after all was not the pre-eminent quality of youth’. In Denis Winter, The First of the Few (London: Allen Lane, 1982) 26. Philip Brereton Townsend, Eye in the Sky 1918: Recollections of Air-to-Ground Co-operation by WW1 Pilot (Private, 1986) pp. 9–10 27. J. M. Winter, ‘Britain’s “Lost Generation” of the First World War’, Population Studies, Volume 31, No. 3 ( November 1977) 28. Walter Porkess, RAF Ref X002–5459/002

Philpott_Notes.indd 214

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

NOTES

215

29. Peter Hart, Bloody April: Slaughter in the Skies over Arras 1917, pp. 113–114 30. F. D. Treadrey, Pioneer Pilot: The Great Smith Barry Who Taught the World How to Fly (London: Peter Davies, 1976) 31. Andrew Boyle, Trenchard Man of Vision (London: Collins, 1962) p. 202 32. Admiral Sir H. W. Richmond, Naval Training (London: Oxford University Press, 1933) pp. 7–8, 29 33. Victor Hayward, HMS Tiger at Bay: A Sailor’s Memoir 1914–1918 (London: William Kimber, 1977) p. 15 34. Richmond, Naval Training, pp. 7–8, 29 35. Victor Hayward, HMS Tiger at Bay: A Sailor’s Memoir 1914–1918, p. 15 36. Richmond, Naval Training, p. 30 37. C. L. Kerr, All in the Day’s Work (London: Rich & Cowan, 1939) pp. 13–15 38. Douglas King-Harman, IWM Ref 99/35/1 39. Richmond, Naval Training, pp. 9–10 40. Frank Layard, quoted in Max Arthur, (ed), The True Glory: The Royal Navy 1914–1939 (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1996) p. 26 41. Stephen King Hall, My Naval Life 1906–1929 (London: Faber & Faber, 1952) p. 58 42. Martin Petter, ‘ “Temporary Gentlemen” in the Aftermath of the Great War: Rank, Status and the Ex-Officer Problem’, The Historical Journal, Volume 37, No. 1 (1994) 43. Richmond, Naval Training, pp. 11–12 44. Arthur Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 5 (London: Oxford University Press, 1970) pp. 321–327 45. For a full discussion of the implications of the command structure at the Battle of Jutland, please see Chapter 2. 46. Colin Veicht, ‘Play Up! Play Up! And Win the War! Football, the Nation and the First World War 1914–1915’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 20, No. 3 (July 1985) 47. Henry Newbolt, ‘Vitae Lampada’, 1897 48. J. A. Mangan, ‘ “Muscular, Militaristic and Manly”: The British Middle Class Hero as Moral Messenger’, in Holt, Richard, Mangan J. A., & Lanfranchi, Pierre (eds), European Heroes: Myth, Identity, Sport (London: Frank Cass, 1996) pp. 28–47 49. Michael C. C. Adams, The Great Adventure: Male Desire and the Coming of World War I (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1990) p. 38 50. Recent reports by the Cricket Foundation suggest a link between students engaging in sport and classroom behaviour. For more information on the Chance to Shine scheme see www.chancetoshineonline.org.news

Philpott_Notes.indd 215

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

216

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

51. Edgar Middleton, The Great War in the Air, Volume 4, pp. 49, 50 52. Admiralty, ‘Report of the Osborne and Dartmouth Committee’ (May 1905) National Archives, ADM 116/862 53. Admiralty, ‘Training of Naval Cadets to be Entered from Public Schools and Elsewhere’ (1913) National Archives, ADM 116/862 54. Admiralty, ‘Conference of Physical Training’ (1919) National Archives, ADM 1/8549/16 55. For a full examination of the technological developments of the navy, please see Chapter 3.

Chapter 2 Non-Combat & Service Motivation 1. Stephane Audoin-Rouzeau, & Annette Becker, 1914–1918: Understanding the Great War (London: Profile Books 2002 [2000]) pp. 25–27 2. John M. Taylor, ‘Courage, Duty and Robert E. Lee’, in Darling Smith, Barbara, Courage (Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press, 2002) pp. 83–92 3. Katherine Platt, ‘Guts is a Habit: The Practice of Courage’, in Darling Smith, Barbara, Courage, pp. 132–146 4. John M. Taylor in Darling Smith, Barbara, Courage, pp. 84–86 5. William Ian Miller, The Mystery of Courage (Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 2000) p. 7 6. Ibid., p109 7. Richard Holmes, Acts of War. The Behaviour of Men in Battle (New York: The Free Press, 1985) p. 301 8. William Miller, The Mystery of Courage, pp. 245–5 9. Ibid., p. 13 10. W. H. Rivers, Instinct and the Unconscious (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1920) pp. 208–17 11. H. C. Marr, Psychoses of War (Oxford: Oxford Medical Publications, 1919) p. 48 12. W. H. Rivers, Instinct and the Unconscious, p. 210 13. G. Elliot Smith, & T. H. Pear. Shell Shock & its Lessons (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1917) p. 19 14. See Chapter 1 for further discussion of the veteran-pilots’ role in teaching 15. T. H. E. Travers, ‘Technology, Tactics and Morale: Jean de Bloch, the Boer War and British Military Theory 1900–1914’, Journal of Modern History, Volume 51, No. 2 (June 1979) 16. Delbert C. Miller, ‘The Measurement of National Morale’, American Sociological Review, Volume 6, No. 4 (August 1941)

Philpott_Notes.indd 216

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

NOTES

217

17. Read Bain, ‘Morale for War and Peace’, Social Forces, Volume 21, No. 4 (May 1943) 18. J. Glenn Gray, The Warriors: Reflections on Men in Battle (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1998 [1970]) p. 40 19. Robert L. Hamblin, Keith Miller, James A. Wiggins, ‘Group Morale and Competence of the Leader’, Sociometry, Volume 24, No. 3 (September 1961) 20. Stephane Audoin Rouzeau, & Annette Becker, 1914–1918: Understanding the Great War, p. 31 21. Edgar Jones, ‘The Psychology of Killing: The Combat Experience of Soldiers During the First World War’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 4, No. 2 (2006) 22. Jay Winter, The Experience of World War One, p. 225 23. George L. Mosse, The Image of Man: The Creation of Modern Masculinity, pp. 108–109 24. Therese Benedick, Insight and Personality Adjustment: A Study of the Psychological Effects of War (New York: The Ronal Press Company, 1946) p. 63 25. Joanna Bourke, Dismembering the Male, p. 152 26. J. A. Mangan, in Richard Holt, J. A. Mangan & Pierre Lanfranchi (eds), European Heroes: Myth, Identity, Sport, p. 28 27. Gordon Maxwell, The Naval Front (London: A&C Black, 1920) p. 31 28. Eric Wheeler Bush, Bless Our Ship (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1958) p. 67 29. Douglas King-Harman, IWM Ref 99/35/1 30. Ibid. 31. James McCudden, Flying Fury: Five Years in the Royal Flying Corps, p. 179 32. H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches (London: Hutchinson & Co., 1933) pp. 76–77 33. H. G. Downing, IWM Ref 88/7/1 – letter to Gladys, 26 October 1917 34. R. J. O. Compston, in RNAS (ed), Naval Eight: A History of No 8 Squadron – Afterwards No 208 Squadron RAF – From its Formation on 1916 until the Armistice 1918 (London: The Signal Press Ltd, 1931) p. 96 35. H. H. Balfour. An Airman Marches, pp. 95–6 36. Carroll Dana Winslow, With the French Flying Corps (London: Constable, 1917) p. 158 37. C. E. Dixon, Major IWM Ref PP/MRC/26 38. J Glenn Gray, The Warriors. Reflections on Men in Battle, pp. 101–4 39. Eric Kebel Chatterton, Q-Ships & Their Story (London: Sidgwick & Jackson, 1922) pp. 96–7

Philpott_Notes.indd 217

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

218

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

40. G. P. Thompson, in Winton, John (ed), The Submariners. Life in British Submarines 1901–1999: An Anthology of Personal Experience (London: Constable, 1999) pp. 71–2 41. William Guy Carr, By Guess and By God (London: Hutchinson, 1931) p. 188 42. The Royal Navy suffered heavy casualties, particularly in the Mediterranean campaigns. The lack of action in the North Sea would suggest that fewer men died there. 43. J. M. Winter, ‘Britain’s “Lost Generation” of the First World War’ 44. Courcy, Brian de in Max Arthur (ed), The True Glory: The Royal Navy 1914– 1939, p. 150 45. Captain Lionel Dawson, Flotillas: A Hard-Lying Story (London: Rich & Cowan, 1933) p. 6 46. Paul Nesham, 21 June 1916, in Felicity Nesham, (ed), Socks, Cigarettes and Shipwrecks: A Family’s War Letters 1914–1918 (Gloucester: Allan Sutton,1987) p. 138 47. Eric Wheeler Bush, Bless Our Ship, p. 67 48. Douglas King-Harman, IWM 99/35/1 49. Lumby, Jack in Arthur Max (ed), The True Glory: The Royal Navy 1914– 1939, p. 77 50. R. H. Kiernan, The First War in the Air, p. 155 51. ‘McScotch’, Fighter Pilot (London: Newnes, 1938) p. 56; R. M. Bacon, Admiral Sir The Concise Story of Dover Patrol (London: Hutchinson, 1932) p. 73 52. Anon, Death in the Air: The War Diary & Photographs of a Flying Corps Pilot (London: William Heinemann, 1933) p. 97 53. William Bishop, Winged Warfare, p. 89 54. J. M. Winter, ‘Britain’s “Lost Generation” of the First World War’ – N.B. All pilots were officers so this compares to the naval statistic for officers quoted above. 55. Royal Flying Corps, ‘Advice to the Inventors of Parachutes’ (1918) National Archives, AIR 20/601 56. H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches, p. 48 57. L. A. Strange, Recollections of an Airman, p. 50 58. H. G. Downing, IWM Ref 88/7/1 59. Arthur Gould Lee, Open Cockpit (London: Jarrolds, 1969) p. xvi 60. ‘Spin’, Short Flights with the Cloud Cavalry (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1918) pp. 106–107 61. William Fry, Air of Battle, p. 126 62. ‘McScotch’, Fighter Pilot, p. 27

Philpott_Notes.indd 218

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

NOTES

219

63. Historians such as Correlli Barnett, Arthur Marder, Nigel Steel and Peter Hart have argued that naval strategy was ineffectual in the Great War, especially blaming their leadership structure and lack of technological initiative. 64. Jay Winter, The Experience of World War One, p. 225 65. K. G. B. Dewar, The Navy from Within (London: Victor Gollanz, 1939), p. 229 66. Lord Wester Wemyss, in Wester Wemyss, Lady (ed) The Life and Letters of Lord Wester Wemyss (London: Eyre & Spottiswood, 1935) 4 February 1915 and 2 February 1915 67. Nigel Steel, and Peter Hart, Jutland 1916: Death in the Grey Waters, (London: Cassell, 2003) pp. 29–30 68. Stephen King Hall, My Naval Life 1906–1929, p. 143 69. Geoffrey Bennett, Naval Battles of the First World War, p. 254 70. Admiral Sir R. H. Bacon, The Concise Story of Dover Patrol, p. 69 71. Tony Ashworth, Trench Warfare 1914–1918, p. 21 72. Quoted in Edwyn Gray, A Damned Un-English Weapon, p. 188 73. Lord Wester Wemyss, 8 February 1915, in Wester Wemyss, Lady (ed) The Life and Letters of Lord Wester Wemyss, p. 195 74. Arthur Hungerford-Pollen, The Navy in Battle (London: Chatto & Windus, 1918) pp. 10–20 75. Stephen King Hall, My Naval Life 1906–1929, pp. 107–114 76. Douglas King-Harman, IWM Ref 99/35/1 77. Herbert Ward, An Erratic Odyssey (London: Odyssey Books, 1988) p. 20 78. W. T. Blake, The Royal Flying Corps in the War, p. 34 79. R. H. Kiernan, The First War in the Air, p. 43 80. Frederick Allen, IWM Ref PP/MRC/301 81. Herbert Ward, An Erratic Odyssey, p. 18 82. Gordon Maxwell, The Naval Front, pp. 2–4 83. A. J. Robinson, IWM Ref 84/31/1 – diary entry dated 23 August 1918 84. Claude Graham White, & Harry Harper, Heroes of the Flying Corps (London: Henry Frowde, 1916) p. 145 85. Douglas King-Harman, IWM Ref 99/35/1 86. Alexander Watson, Enduring the Great War: Combat, Morale and Collapse in the German and British Armies, 1914–1918, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008) p. 37 [footnote] 87. O. P. Napier Pearn, ‘Psychoses in the Expeditionary Forces’, Journal of Mental Science, Volume 65 (1919) p. 102 88. C.E. Dixon, Major IMW Ref PP/MCR/26 89. H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches, pp. 82–83

Philpott_Notes.indd 219

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

220

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

90. Arthur Hogg, Andrew Armstrong (ed) The Chronicles of Arthur W. Hogg (Private, 2004) 23 July 1916 91. H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches, pp. 82–3 92. Victor Hayward, HMS Tiger at Bay: A Sailor’s Memoir 1914–1918, pp. 73–4 93. R. H. Kiernan, The First War in the Air, p. 156 94. H. A. Jones, The War in the Air. Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by the Royal Air Force, Volume 6 (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1937) pp. 557 95. E. F. Knight, The Harwich Naval Forces. Their Part in the Great War (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1919) pp. 234–5 96. Ted Nesham, in Felicity Nesham, (ed) Socks, Cigarettes and Shipwrecks: A Family’s War Letters 1914–1918, 6 August 1914. 97. Lionel Dawson, Captain Flotillas. A Hard-Lying Story, pp. 20–21 98. Gerard Wells, Naval Customs and Traditions, p. 46 99. H. G. Downing, IWM Ref 88/7/1 – letters to Gladys, 22 December 1916 and 14 October 1917 100. Alan Bott, Cavalry of the Clouds (London: Doubleday & Page, 1918) pp. 49–50 101. Arthur J. Robinson, IWM Ref 84/31/1 – letters to father, 22 July 1918, 26 July 1918 and 18 August 1918 102. C. de Burgh, Captain, IWM Ref P228 103. Douglas King-Harman, IWM Ref 99/35/1 104. Arthur Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 4 (London: Oxford University Press, 1961– 1970) pp. 323–324 105. Arthur Borton, in Guy Slater (ed), My Warrior Sons: The Borton Family Diary 1914–1918 (London: Peter Davies, 1973) 2 November 1915, pp. 54–55 106. Paul Nesham, in Felicity Nesham, (ed), Socks, Cigarettes and Shipwrecks: A Family’s War Letters 1914–1918, p. 138 107. Arthur Gould Lee, Open Cockpit, pp. 78–9 108. William Fry, Air of Battle, pp. 158–9 109. See Richard Holmes, Acts of War: The Behaviour of Men in Battle, and George L. Mosse, The Image of Man: The Creation of Modern Masculinity 110. Frank Layard, in Max Arthur, (ed), The True Glory: The Royal Navy 1914– 1939, p. 26 111. George L. Mosse, The Image of Man: The Creation of Modern Masculinity, pp. 110–112 112. Ibid., p 115–118

Philpott_Notes.indd 220

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

NOTES

221

113. See Chapter 5 for a fuller discussion of the perception of airmen as knights 114. Cecil Lewis, Sagittarius Rising (London: Peter Davis, 1966 [1936]) p. 136 115. Edgar Middleton, The Great War in the Air, p. 25 116. H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches, p. 12 117. W. T. Blake, The Royal Flying Corps in the War, p. 77 118. James McCudden, Flying Fury: Five Years in the Royal Flying Corps, pp. 159–160 119. Arthur J. Robinson, IWM Ref 84/31/1–1 August 1918 120. Herbert Ward, An Erratic Odyssey, p. 57 121. Eric Wheeler Bush, Bless Our Ship, p. 16 122. Dave Grossman, On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War & Society (New York: Back Bay Books, 1996) pp. 89–93 123. H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches, p. 159 124. Stephen King Hall, My Naval Life 1906–1929, p. 114 125. William Fry, Air of Battle, pp. 90–1 126. C. E. Dixon, Major IWM Ref PP/MCR/26–17 November 1917 127. T. McKenny Hughes, IWM Ref PP/MC/c15m – 6 January 1916, p. 171 128. James McCudden, Flying Fury: Five Years in the Royal Flying Corps, p. 183 129. H. G. Downing, IMW Ref 88/7/1 130. Oliver Bernard Ellis, RAF Ref X002–5566/001/002 131. Anon, Death in the Air, pp. 78–9 132. Lionel Dawson, Captain Flotillas. A Hard-Lying Story, p. 195 133. Sir Roger Keyes, The Naval Memoirs of Admiral of the Fleet Sir Roger Keyes: Volumes 1–2 (London: Thornton Butterworth Ltd, 1934 & 1935) 134. ‘McScotch’, Fighter Pilot, p. 5 135. William Bishop, Winged Warfare, p. 145 136. W. T. Blake, The Royal Flying Corps in the War, pp. 42–3 137. William Fry, Air of Battle, p. 60 138. Ewart J. Garland, IWM P359–26 July 1916 139. Arthur Admiral Chalmers in Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 5, pp. 130–131 140. Eric Wheeler Bush, Bless Our Ship, p79 141. Admiral Chalmers in Marder, Arthur, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 5, pp. 130–131 142. Eric Kebel Chatterton, Q-Ships and Their Story, pp. 50–51. Q Ships were disguised trawlers and fishing boats which operated in the North Sea and the English Channel to detect enemy submarines and lay mines.

Philpott_Notes.indd 221

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

222

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

143. During the nineteenth century, public schools encouraged sports and physical activity which they believed would infuse notions of fair play and honourable conduct. These boys were the future leaders of the country, and schools felt that encouraging the ‘healthy body, healthy mind’ principle would secure a strong future for the British Empire. The government in the twentieth century felt the manhood of the nation needed to be protected and strengthened in case of a future war. 144. Arthur J. Hogg, in Andrew Armstrong, (ed), The Chronicles of Arthur W. Hogg, 11 October 1916 145. See Chapter 3 for a greater discussion of the physiological effects of flying and the means pilots employed to protect themselves. 146. ‘Spin’, Short Flights with the Cloud Cavalry, p. 189 147. C. E Dixon, Major, IWM Ref PP/MCR/26 148. William Bishop, Winged Warfare, p. 26 149. H. G. Downing, IWM Ref 88/7/1 – letter to Gladys, 15 January 1917 150. Claude Graham White & Harry Harper, Heroes of the Flying Corps, p. 131 151. H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches, p. 20 152. F. C. Penny, IWM 76/16/1, pp. 19–20 153. ‘McScotch’, Fighter Pilot, p. 2 154. Cecil Lewis, Sagittarius Rising, p.45 155. Alan Bott, Cavalry of the Clouds, p. 175 156. Arthur Gould Lee, Open Cockpit, pp. 155–6 157. W. T. Blake, The Royal Flying Corps in the War, p. 35 158. William Fry, Air of Battle, p. 111 159. H. A. Jones, The War in the Air: Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by the Royal Air Force, Volume 2, p. 233. Contact patrols worked directly with army gunners, reporting on the ranging of British shells and the troop positions during engagement. Jones is referring here only to the first phase of fighting in the Somme campaign. 160. Peter Liddle, The Airman’s War, p. 63 161. Geoffrey Norris, The Royal Flying Corps: A History. Norris refers to James McCudden and Albert Ball who became two of Britain’s most famous air aces, achieving more than 40 victories each before they both met their deaths in the latter years of the war. 162. Lieutenant-Colonel Wilkinson, IWM Ref 99/14/2 163. David McGregor, ‘The Use, Misuse, and Non-Use of History: The Royal Navy and the Operational Lessons of the First World War’, Journal of Military History, Volume 56, No. 4, p. 609 164. Dave Grossman, On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War & Society, pp. 89–93

Philpott_Notes.indd 222

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

NOTES

223

165. Stephane Audoin-Rouzeau, & Annette Becker, 1914–1918: Understanding the Great War, p. 36 166. ‘McScotch,’ Fighter Pilot, p. 56

Chapter 3 Technology 1. Some historians recognize the American Civil War as the first mechanised conflict which influenced the development of modern war. For example George Mosse in his article on shell-shock suggest that soldier performance was affected by the afflictions related to modern weapons, and this was first noticed in the American Civil War (‘Shell-Shock as a Social Disease’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 35, No. 1, 2000). John E. Talbort also included that conflict in his examination of psychiatry in modern warfare (‘Soldiers, Psychiatrists and Combat Trauma’, Journal of Interdisciplinary History, Vol. 27, No. 3, 1997) 2. David Edgerton, ‘Invention, Technology or History: What is Historiography of Technology About?’, Conference Paper, University of Washington (2007) 3. Merrit Roe Smith, & Leo Marx, (eds) Does Technology Drive History? The Dilemma of Technological Determinism (Cambridge: Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1996) p. xiv 4. Arnold Pacey, The Culture of Technology (London: Basil Blackwell, 1983) p. 24 5. Ibid., p. 138 6. David Edgerton, Shock of the Old: Technology and Global History Since 1900 (London: Profile Books, 2006) p. 32 7. Ernest Braun, Futile Progress: Technology’s Empty Promise (London: Earthscan, 1995) p. 25 8. Martin Van Creveld, Technology and War: From 2000 B.C. to the Present (London: Brassey’s (UK), 1991), p. 314 9. Leonard Rochford, I Chose the Sky, p. 18 10. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, p. 495 11. H. A. Jones, The War in the Air: Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by the Royal Air Force, Volume 3, pp. 350–1 12. R. H. Kiernan, The First War in the Air, p. 39 13. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, p. 498 14. Jonathan Nicholls, Cheerful Sacrifice: The Battle of Arras 1917 (London: Leo Cooper, 1995) pp. 35–6

Philpott_Notes.indd 223

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

224

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

15. James McCudden, Flying Fury: Five Years in the Royal Flying Corps, pp. 104,124 16. H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches, pp. 95–6 17. ‘Conclusions of the 69th Meeting of the War Committee’, 10 February 1916, in S. W. Roskill, Captain (ed) Documents Relating to the Naval Air Service, Volume 1: 1908–1918 (London: Navy Records Society, 1969) 18. Maurice Baring, Flying Corps Headquarters 1914–1918 (London: William Heinemann Ltd, 1930 [1920]) p. 112 19. M. M. Postan, D. Hay, J. D. Scott, Design and Development of Weapons: Studies in Government and Industrial Organisation (London: HMSO, 1964) p. 140 20. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, p. 495 21. L. A. Strange, Recollections of an Airman, p. 132 22. Leonard Rochford, I Chose the Sky, p. 39 23. Peter Cooksley, The RFC/RNAS Handbook 1914–1918, pp. 22–3 24. The War Office reported that between August 1914 and May 1915, 530 aeroplanes were taken into service. In contrast, the period from 29 September 1916 to 1 March 1917 saw 2,844 aeroplanes taken into service. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, pp. 495, 498 25. David Edgerton, Shock of the Old: Technology and Global History Since 1900, pp. 90–91 26. Charles D. Smart, RAF Ref B2207 27. Michael Occleshaw, Armour Against Fate: British Military Intelligence in the First World War, (London: Columbus Books, 1989) pp. 60–66 28. Geoffrey Norris, The Royal Flying Corps: A History, p. 115 29. H. A. Jones, The War in the Air: Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by the Royal Air Force, Volume 2, p. 177 30. N. N. Macleod, ‘Mapping from Air Photographs: Discussion’, The Geographical Journal, Volume 53, No. 6 (June 1919) 31. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, pp. 503–4 32. Henry Woodhouse, ‘Aeronautical Maps and Aerial Transportation’, The Geographical Review, Volume 4, No. 5 (November 1917) 33. For a discussion of the historiography, see David Edgerton’s England and the Aeroplane in which he disputes the view that aeroplanes were initially a civilian technology. 34. Henry Woodhouse, ‘Aeronautical Maps and Aerial Transportation’, and G. M. B. Dobson, ‘Design of Instruments for Navigation of Aircraft’, The Geographical Journal, Volume 56, No. 5 (1920)

Philpott_Notes.indd 224

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

NOTES

225

35. Henry Woodhouse, ‘Aeronautical Maps and Aerial Transportation’ 36. Herbert Ward, An Erratic Odyssey, pp. 22–3 37. E.A. Milne, in Weston Smith, Meg, ‘E.A. Milne and the Creation of Air Defence: Some Letters from an Unprincipled Brigand 1916–1919’, Notes & Records of the Royal Society of London, Volume 44, No. 2 (July 1990) 38. See Peter Hart, Bloody April: Slaughter in the Skies over Arras 1917, pp. 258–9 and Holden, Wendy, Shell Shock: The Psychological Impact of War (London: Channel 4 Books, 1998) p. 57. 39. Arthur Gould Lee, Open Cockpit, p. 40 40. W. T Blake, The Royal Flying Corps in the War, p. 15 41. William Fry, Air of Battle, p. 137 42. See Chapter 1 for information on the role of veteran-instructors. 43. The advances of the Italian bombing squadrons were noted in the ‘Report of the Sub-Committee of Imperial Defence on Aerial Navigation’, 29 February 1912, National Archives, AIR 1/653/17/22/489 44. Herbert Ward, An Erratic Odyssey, p. 20 45. Geoffrey Norris, The Royal Flying Corps: A History, p. 101 46. Air Council, A Short History of the Royal Air Force (London: Air Ministry, 1936 [1929]) p. 51 47. James McCudden, RAF Ref AC72/5/7 – Letter to his father, 10 September 1917 48. Ernest Braun, Futile Progress: Technology’s Empty Promise, p. 25 49. Alan Bott, Cavalry of the Clouds, pp. 49–50 50. The War Office recorded 215 pilots in training on 31 May 1915. By 1 March 1917 that figure had increased to 3,353 officers under instruction. A similar expansion was seen in aeroplane delivery rates. In October 1916, the RFC expected 629 aeroplanes, but by March 1917, it was expecting 731. In War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, pp. 496, 498 51. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, p. 507 52. Walter Briscoe, & Russell Stannard, Captain Ball VC of the Royal Flying Corps (London: Herbert Jenkins Ltd, 1918) p. 6 53. Royal Flying Corps Reports, ‘Notes on Formation Flying’ (September 1916) National Archives AIR 1/129/18/40/191 54. James McCudden, RAF Ref AC 72/5/6 – 23 January 1917 55. Alan Bott, Cavalry of the Clouds, pp. 54–55 56. Trevor Henshaw, The Sky Their Battlefield: Air Fighting and the Complete List of Allied Air Casualties from Enemy Action in the First World War. British,

Philpott_Notes.indd 225

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

226

57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68.

69. 70. 71. 72. 73. 74. 75. 76. 77. 78. 79. 80.

Philpott_Notes.indd 226

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Commonwealth & United States Air Services 1914–1918 (London: Grub Street,1995) pp. 7–8 Royal Flying Corps, ‘Notes on Formation Flying’, National Archives, AIR 1/129/18/40/191 War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920 Walter Briscoe, & Russell Stannard, Captain Ball VC of the Royal Flying Corps, pp. 210–11 William Fry, Air of Battle, p. 111 Alan Bott, Cavalry of the Clouds, p. 175 Sven Lindquvist, A History of Bombing (London: Granta Books) 2001 For a full account of the bombardment of England, please see Chapter 4 William Fry, Air of Battle, p 57 C. P. O. Bartlett, Bomber Pilot 1916–1918 (London: Ian Allen Ltd, 1974) p. 34–17 November 1916 G. M. B. Dobson, ‘Design of Instrument for Navigation of Aircraft’, The Geographical Journal Andrew Boyle, Trenchard Man of Vision, pp. 239–40 The War Office recorded the first Gotha raid in 1916, most of which was confined to Kent, Essex, London and the Home Counties. By contrast, the Zeppelin had reached as far as Scotland in May 1916, in War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, pp. 674–677 H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches, p. 142 For further examples of the effects of air raids, see Chapter 4 M. M. Postan, D Hay, J. D. Scott, Design and Development of Weapons: Studies in Government and Industrial Organisation, p. 51 Paul Halpern, A Naval History of World War I, p. 1 Martin Van Creveld, Technology and War: From 2000 B.C. to the Present, pp. 203–4 Lord Fisher, ‘Fisher on the Navy’, The Times, 8 September 1919 Jon Tseturo Sumida, ‘Sir John Fisher & the Dreadnought: The Sources of Naval Mythology’, The Journal of Military History, Volume 59, No. 4 (1995) See Chapters 2 and 5 for exploration of the sailor’s attitude to war Correlli Barnett, The Swordbearers, pp. 183–4 Richard Hough, The Great War at Sea 1914–1918, p. 99 Roger Keyes Sir, The Naval Memoirs of Admiral of the Fleet Sir Roger Keyes, Volume 2, pp. 83–4 Robert K. Massie, Castles of Steel: Britain, Germany and the Winning of the Great War at Sea, (London: Jonathan Cape, 2004) p. 5

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

NOTES

227

81. David Edgerton, Shock of the Old: Technology and Global History Since 1900, pp. 6–7 82. Roy M. MacLeod, & E. Kay Andrews, ‘Scientific Advice in the War at Sea 1915–1917: The Board of Invention & Research’, The Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 6, No. 2 (1971) 83. Arthur Balfour, National Archive, ADM 116/1430–10 July 1915 84. ‘The First General Meeting of the Board of Invention & Research’, 29 July 1915, National Archive ADM 116/1430 85. ‘Report on the Present Organisation of the Board of Invention of Research’, 21 September 1917, National Archive, ADM 116/1430 86. Admiralty Office Memorandum No. 105, National Archives, ADM1/8484/66 87. Letter from the BIR to the Admiralty, 28 June 1917, National Archives, ADM1/8484/66 88. Ibid. 89. Arthur Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 2, pp. 77–8 90. Roger Keyes Sir, The Naval Memoirs of Admiral of the Fleet Sir Roger Keyes, Volume 1, p. 24 91. Gordon Maxwell, The Naval Front, p 20 92. Edwyn Gray, The Killing Time, p. 34 93. Keys, The Naval Memoirs of Admiral of the Fleet Sir Roger Keyes, Volume 1, p. 37 94. G. J. Mackness, Lieutenant Commander in John Winton, (ed) The Submariners: Life in British Submarines 1901–1999: An Anthology of Personal Experience, pp. 51–2 95. Ibid. 96. William Jameson, The Most Formidable Thing: The Story of the Submarine from its Earliest Days to the End of World War I (London: Rupert Hart-Davis, 1965) p. 203 97. Ernest Rutherford, Sir BIR report, National Archives, ADM 212/519 – September 1915 98. Arthur Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 4, pp. 76–77 99. A. B. Wood, BIR Report, National Archives, ADM 212/159 – January 1917 100. E. J. Allen, BIR Report, National Archives, ADM 212/159 – 23 July 1917, 101. Commander Kemp in Marder, Arthur, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 2, pp. 78–9

Philpott_Notes.indd 227

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

228

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

102. E. J. Allen, 1917, BIR Report, National Archives, ADM 212/159 103. John Leyland, The Achievement of the British Navy in the World War (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1918) pp. 43–44 104. David Edgerton, Shock of the Old: Technology and Global History Since 1906, p. 149 105. Lord Fisher, ‘Fisher on the Navy’, The Times, 10 September 1919 106. Niall Ferguson, The Pity of War, p. 83 107. Winston Churchill, ‘Navy Estimates in the Great War. A Speech Delivered by the Right Hon. Winston S. Churchill, MP (First Lord of the Admiralty) in the House of Commons on February 15th, 1915’ (London: Liberal Publication Department, 1915) 108. Martin Van Creveld, Technology and War: From 2000 B.C. to the Present, p. 209 109. Geoffrey Bennett, Naval Battles of the First World War, pp. 18–19

Chapter 4 Home Front 1. For example, several spy stories were published by Le Queux about German spies hiding in Britain. Also see the fiction of H. G. Wells that reflect Britain’s real fear of airship invasion. For a full discussion of these texts and the consequent spy scares in pre-war England, see Andrew, Christopher, The Defence of the Realm: The Authorized History of MI5 (London: Allen Lane, 2009) 2. See Douglas Robinson, The Zeppelin in Combat. A History of the German Naval Airship Division 1912–1918 3. Ibid., p. 48 4. Claude Graham White, & Harry Harper, Heroes of the Flying Corps, p. 253 5. Douglas Robinson, The Zeppelin in Combat. A History of the German Naval Airship Division 1912–1918, p. 81 6. L. E. O. Charlton, War Over England, (London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1936), p. 33 7. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920 8. Richard Van Emden, & Steve Humphries, All Quiet on the Home Front: An Oral History of Britain During the First World War (London: Headline, 2003) pp. 150–151 9. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, p. 675 10. Edgar Middleton, The Great War in the Air, Volume 2, p. 22 11. W.G. Neale, The Tides of War and the Port of Bristol: 1914–1918 (Bristol: Port of Bristol Authority, 1976), p. 62

Philpott_Notes.indd 228

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

NOTES

229

12. Jon Tetusro Sumida, ‘British Naval Operational Logistics, 1914–1918’, Journal of Military History, Volume 57, No. 3 (July 1993) p. 453 13. Mrs C. S. Peel, How We Lived Then (London: The Bodley Head, 1929) p. 61 14. John Williams, The Home Fronts: Britain, France & Germany 1914–1918 (London: Constable, 1972) pp. 121–23 15. Ernest Macaway, in J. C. Carlile, Folkestone During the War 1914–1918 (Folkestone: F. J. Parsons Ltd, 1920) p. 67 16. T. McKenny Hughes, IWM Ref PP/MRC/c. – 15 – 29 November 1916 17. Folkestone is a interesting case study here, being both a naval port, a place of troop transport and close to several air stations. Perhaps more clearly than any other town in Britain, Folkestone was confronted with the experience of total war. 18. Library Information Signs, Folkestone Museum & Library 19. Carlile, Folkestone During the War 1914–1918, p. 198 20. Joseph Bryant, Cadet ‘D’ Flight, 4 Squadron, No 1 RAF Cadet Wing, Folkestone Museum and Library, 22 September 1918 21. C. F. Snowden, The Story of a North Sea Air Station (Oxford: Oxford University Press,1928) pp. 1, 19 22. ‘PIX’, The Spider Web: The Romance of Flying-Boat War Flight, (Edinburgh: William Blackwood & Sons, 1919) pp. 12–13 23. H. A. Jones, The War in the Air: Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by the Royal Air Force, Volume 5, p. 439 24. Oliver Bernard Ellis, RAF Ref X002–5566/001–002 25. C. F. Snowden, The Story of a North Sea Air Station, p. 81 26. RNAS, Reminiscences, (Private: Portsmouth Command, 1919[?]) 27. ‘PIX’, The Spider Web: The Romance of Flying-Boat War Flight, p. 15 28. Secretary, War Office to Secretary, Admiralty in War Office, ‘Establish ment of the RFC’, National Archives, 1/653/17/122/482–6 August 1914 29. Walter Raleigh, The War in the Air: Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by the Royal Air Force, Volume 1, p. 471 30. Leonard Rochford, I Chose the Sky, pp. 28–30 31. ‘PIX’, The Spider Web: The Romance of Flying-Boat War Flight 32. Oliver Bernard Ellis, RAF Ref X002–5566/001–002 33. L. E. O. Charlton, War Over England, pp. 13–14 34. Arthur Borton, in Guy Slater, (ed) My Warrior Sons. The Borton Family Diary 1914–1918, pp. 29–21, May 1915 35. Geoffrey Norris, The Royal Flying Corps: A History, pp. 85–6 36. Caroline E. Playne, Society at War, (London: George Allen and Unwin Ltd, 1941) p. 141

Philpott_Notes.indd 229

3/24/2013 10:33:34 PM

230

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

37. Hallie Eustace Miles, Untold Tales of Wartime London: A Personal Diary (London: Cecil Palmer, 1930) pp. 70–71 38. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920 39. L. E. O. Charlton, War Over England, pp. 70–71 40. Ibid., p. 44 41. Arthur Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 4, pp. 23–4 42. ———. From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 3, pp. 261–3 43. ———. From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 4, pp. 23–4 44. Secretary, War Office to Secretary, Admiralty in Royal Flying Corps, ‘Aerial Defence of the Tyne’, National Archives AIR 1/652–11 November 1915 45. Philip Joubert de la Ferte, RAF Ref DC70/12 – letter 25 October 1915 46. Joseph Morris, The German Air Raids on Great Britain 1914–1918 (London: Sampson, Low, Marston & Co, c. 1925), p. 62 47. Arthur Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 2, pp. 150–151 48. Extract from ‘Secretary’s Notes of a Meeting of the War Committee’ held on 26 January 1916, in Roskill, Captain S.W. (ed), Documents Relating to the Naval Air Service, Volume 1: 1908–1918, p. 284 49. Stephen King Hall, My Naval Life 1906–1929, pp. 164–5 50. C. S. Peel, How We Lived Then, pp. 66–67 51. Geoffrey Sparrow, On Four Fronts with the Royal Naval Division (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1918) p. 248 52. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, pp. 674–5 53. Royal Flying Corps, ‘Bomber Reports’, National Archives, AIR 1/460/15/312/99 54. Field Marshal French, Commander–in-Chief, Home Forces to Secretary, 5 June 1917 in War Office, ‘Instructions Regarding the Aerial Defence of the United Kingdom Issued to Units of the Royal Flying Corps 1 March 1916 – 30 May 1916’, National Archives AIR 1/612/16/15/366 55. Cecil Lewis, Sagittarius Rising, p. 156 56. F. C. Penny, IWM Ref 76/16/1, pp. 41–2 57. War Office, ‘Instructions Regarding the Aerial Defence of the United Kingdom Issued to Units of the Royal Flying Corps 1 March 1916 – 30 May 1916’, National Archives AIR 1/621/16/15/366

Philpott_Notes.indd 230

3/24/2013 10:33:35 PM

NOTES

231

58. Geoffrey Norris, The Royal Flying Corps: A History, p. 179 59. War Office, ‘A Proposal Regarding a Change of Policy in Aerial Home Defence’, National Archives, AIR 1/612/16/15/366–18 July 1916 60. H. A. Jones, The War in the Air: Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by the Royal Air Force, Volume 5, p. 157 61. ———. The War in the Air: Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by the Royal Air Force, Volume 3, p. 170 62. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, p. 675 63. Joseph Morris, The German Air Raids on Great Britain 1914–1918, p. 83 64. C. M. White, The Gotha Summer: The German Daytime Air Raids on England, May-August 1917 (London: Robert Hale, 1986) pp. 88–90 65. Arthur J. Crowhurst, in Carlile, Folkestone During the War 1914–1918, p. 123 66. C. S. Peel, How We Lived Then, p. 142 67. C. M. White, The Gotha Summer: The German Daytime Air Raids on England, May-August 1917, p. 93 68. L. E. O. Charlton, War Over England, pp. 135–7 69. A. C. Stanton, IWM Con Shelf – 18 July 1918 70. Cecil Lewis, Sagittarius Rising, pp. 183–4 71. Jones, The War in the Air. Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by the Royal Air Force, Volume 5, p. 22 72. Ibid., pp. 91–2 73. Joseph Morris, The German Air Raids on Great Britain 1914–1918, pp. 238–239 74. John Ferris, ‘Fighter Defence Before Fighter Command: The Rise of Strategic Air Defence in Great Britain 1917–1934’, Journal of Military History, Volume 63, No. 4 (October 1999) 75. War Office, ‘Instructions Regarding the Aerial Defence of the United Kingdom Issued to Units of the Royal Flying Corps 1 March 1916 – 30 May 1916’, National Archives, AIR 1/621/16/15/366 76. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920 77. C. M. White, The Gotha Summer: The German Daytime Air Raids on England, May-August 1917, p. 70 78. L. E. O. Charlton, War Over England, pp. 11–12 79. Ethel Richardson, Remembrance Wakes (London: Heath Crane Ltd, 1992) p. 95 80. Lewis, Sagittarius Rising, pp. 183–4 81. James McCudden, Flying Fury: Five Years in the Royal Flying Corps, p. 152

Philpott_Notes.indd 231

3/24/2013 10:33:35 PM

232

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

82. Philip Joubert de la Ferte, RAF Ref DC70/2 – 18 October 1918 83. William Orpen, An Onlooker in France 1917–1818 (London: Williams & Norgate, 1924) p. 69 84. Alan Bott, Cavalry of the Clouds, p. 101 85. Francis Pattenden, RAF Ref X001–2334/005/003 86. For a detailed discussion of the public and private home fronts in relation to soldier accounts, please see M. Philpott, ‘Disillusion During the Great War’, 2003, Unpublished MPhil thesis, Seeley Library, University of Cambridge 87. Christopher Cole & E. F. Cheeseman, The Air Defence of Britain, p. 93 88. Joubert de la Ferte, RAF Ref DC70/12 – Letter to mother, 13 October 1915 89. L. E. O. Charlton, War Over England, pp. v-vi

Chapter 5 Representations of War 1. Mark Abrams, The Condition of the British People 1911–1945: A Study Prepared by the Fabian Society (London: Victor Gollancz Ltd, 1945) pp. 113–115 2. H. Gregory, Never Again: A Diary of the Great War (London: Arthur H. Stockwell Ltd, 1934) p. 6 3. C. E. Montague, Disenchantment (London: MacGibbon & Kee, 1922) p. 145 4. Jay Winter, Sites of Memory, Sites of Mourning: The Great War in European Cultural History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997) p. 204 5. For the purposes of this chapter, the terms RFC and RAF will be used concurrently to refer to the air services, with RFC referring to the period before April 1918 and RAF thereafter. Therefore in discussing representations of the air service during the war they will be called the RFC, and in the inter-war period the RAF, to reflect their actual titles at these times. 6. Stefan Goebel, ‘Intersecting Memories: War and Remembrance in Twentieth-century Europe’, The Historical Journal, Volume 44, No. 3 (September 2001) 7. ———. ‘Re-membered and Re-mobilized: The “Sleeping Dead” in Interwar Germany and Britain’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 39, No. 4 (2004) 8. Jan Christian Smuts, born in South Africa, was commissioned as a member of the War Cabinet in July 1917 by the Prime Minister, David Lloyd George, to re-evaluate the aerial defence of England and the future distribution of air resources.

Philpott_Notes.indd 232

3/24/2013 10:33:35 PM

NOTES

233

9. Arthur Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 4, pp. 331–332 10. Major Draper in RNAS (ed), Naval Eight: A History of No 8 Squadron RNAS – Afterwards No 208 Squadron RAF – From its Formation in 1916 until the Armistice in 1918 (London: The Signal Press Ltd, 1931) pp. 49–50 11. ‘PIX’, The Spider Web: The Romance of Flying-Boat War Flight, pp. 243–4 12. RNAS, Reminiscences.. 13. Malcolm Cooper, ‘Blueprint for Confusion: The Administrative Background to the Formation of the Royal Air Force, 1912–1919’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 22, No. 3 (July 1987) 14. War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920, p. 509. N.B. These figures are exclusive of RAF men serving in India 15. Wilkinson Sherrin, The Rights of the Ex-Service Man & Woman (London: L J Gooding, 1921) p. 55 16. The first UAS was established at the University of Cambridge on 1 October 1925, with members drawn from the undergraduate population. The very first student member was G. H. Watkins, an explorer credited with identifying the first Arctic air routes in Greenland. 17. Cambridge University Air Squadron website: www.raf.mod.uk/cambridgeuas/ 18. John Ross, The Royal Flying Corps Boy Service. RFC-RNAS-RAF: The Link is Forged (London: Regency Press) p. 19 19. Hugh Driver, The Birth of Military Aviation, Britain 1903–1914 (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 1997) pp. 129–130 20. David Omissi, in J. Mackenzie, (ed), Popular Imperialism and the Military, 1850–1950 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1992) pp. 198–199. Spectators to the pageant, as Omissi explained, could purchase a box for six people at £4, £5 or £7, with general tickets available in advance for 10s or 5s. The tickets available on the day cost 2s. This is comparably more expensive than the cinema, which Omissi claimed could cost as little as 6d in a working-class area. 21. Len Deighton, Battle of Britain (London: Jonathan Cope, 1980) p. 33 22. Adrian Gregory, The Silence of Memory, p. 136 23. Ibid., p. 24 24. Anna Makolkin, Anatomy Of Heroism (NewYork: Legas, 2000) p. 129 25. Stephanie Barczewski, Antarctic Destinies: Scott, Shackelton and the Changing Face of Heroism (London: Hambledon Continuum, 2007) pp. 149–150 26. Barczewski argues that in the mid-twentieth century perceptions changed and anti-hero characteristics became prevalent, thus realigning the markers

Philpott_Notes.indd 233

3/24/2013 10:33:35 PM

234

27. 28. 29.

30. 31.

32. 33.

34. 35. 36. 37. 38. 39. 40. 41. 42.

43. 44. 45. 46. 47.

Philpott_Notes.indd 234

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

of heroism. Therefore, Shackleton became heroic because he was seen to have overcome his human weakness and saved all the men in his charge. Scott, by contrast, was then seen as failing to protect his men, putting unrealistic aims above their lives and dying needlessly. Richard Hillary, The Last Enemy (London: Pimlico (Random House), 1997 [1942]) pp. 15, 43–44 Graham Dawson, Soldier Heroes: British Adventure, Empire and the Imagining of Masculinities (London: Routledge, 1994) pp. 173–4 Mosse, George in Hinde, Robert & Watson, Helen (eds) War: A Cruel Necessity? The Bases of Institutionalized Violence (London: I B Tauris, 1995) pp. 137–8, 132 William Miller, The Mystery of Courage, p. 9 The most popular example of public enthusiasm was the ‘Biggles’ novels by Captain W. E. Johns which first appeared in 1932, by which time the idealized First World War airman was already a popular figure. Johns wrote almost 100 novels and short stories until his death in 1968, 17 of which were published between 1932 and 1939. Many of the early novels were reprinted in the 1950s to capture a new young audience. Angus Calder, Disasters and Heroes: On War, Memory & Representation (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2004) pp. 121–2 Peter Hancock, and Gabrielle Hancock, in Robin Rosenberg, (ed) The Psychology of Superheroes: An Unauthorized Exploration (Texas: Benbella Books, 2008) p. 114 Fry, Air of Battle, p. 61 Ward, An Erratic Odyssey, p. 39 Arthur Gould Lee, Open Cockpit, p. xv Bishop, Winged Warfare, p. 141 Fry, Air of Battle, pp. 158–9 Lewis, Sagittarius Rising, pp. 59–61 Angus Calder, Disasters & Heroes: On War, Memory & Representation, p. 172 Lewis, Sagittarius Rising, p. 2 Stefan Goebel, The Great War and Medieval Memory: War, Remembrance and Medievalism in Britain and Germany 1914–1940 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007) p. 159 The Times, 3 July 1920 Charles C. Turner, The Struggle in the Air 1914–1918 (London: Edward Arnold, 1919) p. 275 Lewis, Sagittarius Rising, p. 45 Bott, Cavalry of the Clouds, p. 173–4 Middleton, The Great War in the Air , Volume 1, p. 25

3/24/2013 10:33:35 PM

NOTES 48. 49. 50. 51. 52. 53. 54. 55. 56. 57. 58. 59. 60. 61. 62. 63. 64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72. 73. 74.

235

Middleton, The Great War in the Air, Volume 4, p. 61 Arthur Gould Lee, Open Cockpit, p. xv H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches, p. 12 James McCudden, Flying Fury: Five Years in the Royal Flying Corps, p. 37 In Alan Bott, Cavalry of the Clouds, p. 203 Middleton, The Great War in the Air, Volume 1, pp. 140–1 Royal Flying Corps, The Work & Training of the Royal Flying Corps, (London: The Illustrated London News, 1917/18[?]), p. 4 Lewis, Sagittarius Rising, p. 31 Balfour, An Airman Marches, p. 159 Adrian Smith, Mick Mannock Fighter Pilot (New York: Palgrave, 2001) pp. 59–60 Stefan Goebel, The Great War and Medieval Memory: War, Remembrance and Medievalism in Britain and Germany 1914–1940, p. 154 Fry, Air of Battle, p. 124 The Times, 17 July 1923 Jan Rueger, ‘Nation, Empire and Navy: Identity Politics in the United Kingdom 1887–1914’, p. 160 Mabel Rudkin, Inside Dover 1914–1918: A Woman’s Impressions (London: Elliot Stock, 1933) pp. 32–33 Jan Rueger, The Great Naval Game: Britain & Germany in the Age of Empire, p. 225 Keyes, The Naval Memoirs of Admiral of the Fleet Sir Roger Keyes, Volume 2, pp. 379–80 ———. The Naval Memoirs of Admiral of the Fleet Sir Roger Keyes, Volume 1, pp. 15–16 Peter Liddle, Home Fires and Foreign Fields, p. 56 H. A. Jones, The War in the Air. Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by the Royal Air Force, Volume 3, pp. 148–9 Stephen King Hall, My Naval Life 1906–1929, p. 143 K. G. B. Dewar, The Navy from Within, p. 280 Henry St John Fancourt, in Max Arthur (ed), The True Glory: The Royal Navy 1914–1939, p. 24 Arthur Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 4, pp. 323–4 ———. From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 2, pp. 379–382 Admiral Sir Roger Bacon, The Concise Story of Dover Patrol, p. 169 Sir Douglas Browning, Indiscretions of the Naval Censor (London: Cassell, 1920) p. 14

Philpott_Notes.indd 235

3/24/2013 10:33:35 PM

236

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

75. ‘Argus’ in The Times, 27 June, 1919 76. Lord Fisher in The Times, 2 September, 1919 77. Arthur Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow. The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 5, p. 176 78. Gordon Maxwell, The Naval Front, p. 189 79. L. Cope Cornford, The Parvane Adventure (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1919) p. 23 80. Arthur Hungerford-Pollen, The Navy in Battle, pp. 19–20 81. L. Cope Cornford, The Parvane Adventure, pp. 260–2 82. K. G. B. Dewar, The Navy from Within

Conclusion 1. Bill Stone, Royal Navy veteran, died on 10 January 2009, aged 108. Bill joined the Navy in September 1918 and served in both World Wars. Henry Allingham was a founder member of the RAF and served with the Royal Naval Air Service during the war. He died on 18 July 2009, aged 113. Harry Patch, the very last survivor of the First World War living in Britain, was a soldier on the Western Front serving at Ypres in 1917. He died on 25 July 2009, aged 110 years old. Claude Choules served with the Royal Navy from 1916 but lived in Australia. He died aged 110 on 5 May 2011 and was the final British survivor of the First World War. 2. M. Philpott, ‘Disillusion During the Great War’, p. 65 3. H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches, p. 12 4. Alan Bott, Cavalry of the Clouds, p. 140 5. W. T. Blake, The Royal Flying Corps in the War, p. 35 6. Lieutenant Colonel Wilkinson, 24 Squadron, IWM Ref 99/14/2 7. Sir H. W. Richmond, Naval Training, p. 29 8. Arthur Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 5, pp. 330–4 9. Frank Haylett, IWM Ref 02/35/1–16 March 1916, letter to Lena and Gladys 10. E. F. Knight, Harwich Naval Forces: Their Part in the Great War, pp. 234–5 11. Stephen King Hall, My Naval Life 1906–1929, p. 114 12. Frank Haylett, IWM Ref 02/35/1 – 10 October 1917, letter to his wife Lena 13. William Fry, Air of Battle, p. 158 14. H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches, p. 159 15. Joubert de la Ferte, RAF Ref DC70/12 16. Arthur Gould Lee, Open Cockpit, p. xvi

Philpott_Notes.indd 236

3/24/2013 10:33:35 PM

NOTES

237

17. Douglas King-Harman, IWM Ref 99/35/1 – account enfolded in a letter to his parents 1916 18. Ibid., 16 June 1917 – letter to father 19. H. G. Downing, IWM Ref 88/7/1 – 8 November 1917, letter to family 20. Jan Rueger, The Great Naval Game: Britain & Germany in the Age of Empire, pp. 113–114 21. C. de Burgh, IWM Ref P228–5 August 1914 22. Frederick Allen, IWM Ref PP/MRC/301 23. Arthur Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volume 2, p. 19 24. Francis Pattenden, RAF Ref X001–2334/005/001 25. Anon., Death in the Air, pp. 78–9 26. Lionel Dawson, Flotillas: A Hard-Lying Story, pp. 20–21 27. Paul Nesham, in Felicity Nesham, (ed), Socks, Cigarettes and Shipwrecks: A Family’s War Letters 1914–1918, pp. 138–9 28. W. T. Blake, The Royal Flying Corps in the War, p. 35 29. Carroll Dana Winslow, With the French Flying Corps, pp. 101–2 30. H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches, pp. 76–7 31. L. A. Strange, Recollections of an Airman, pp. 78–9

Philpott_Notes.indd 237

3/24/2013 10:33:35 PM

BIBLIOGR APHY

Key to Bibliography • • • • •

ADM – Admiralty Records, National Archive AIR – Air Ministry Records, National Archive IWM – Imperial War Museum Archive RAF – Royal Air Force Museum Archive WO – War Office Records, National Archive

Private Papers Andrew Armstrong (ed), The Chronicles of Arthur W Hogg (Private, 2004)

Manuscript Sources Admiralty, ‘Board of Invention & Research: Relationship to Other Admiralty Departments’, 4 April 1917, ADM 1/8484/66 Admiralty, ‘Branch Reports of the Committee on Naval Education 1870–1913’, ADM 116/862 – including reports from the Osborne and Dartmouth Committee and on the training of naval cadets from public schools Admiralty, ‘Freedom of the Seas: Advantages & Disadvantages of Naval & Strategical Aspects’, ADM 1/8545/312 Admiralty, ‘Physical Recreation Training of the Royal Navy’, 23 January 1919 – Report of a conference held at Portsmouth, ADM 1/8549/16 Admiralty, ‘Training of Seamen’, 24 April 1915, ADM 1/8419/104 Algernon Levyin Curtis, WO 339/4574

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 238

3/24/2013 10:30:19 PM

BIBLIOGR APHY

239

Allen, Charles Frederick Stanley, IWM Ref PP/MRC/301 Andrew Thompson, RAF Ref B1371 Anon, IWM Ref Misc. 276, Box 13 G. W. Armstrong, IMW Ref P430 Arthur J Robinson, IWM Ref 84/31/1 E. B. Ashmore, IWM Ref 02/37/1 Charles G. H. Bell, IWM Ref 92/13/1 A. C. Bell, The Blockade of Germany, ADM 116/3304 Bernard Curtis Rice, RAF Ref X002 5429/001/008 & 009 Board of Invention & Research, ‘Board of Invention & Research Reports 1915–1918’, ADM 116/1430 Board of Invention & Research, ‘Board of Invention & Research Reports 1915–1918’, ADM 212/159 Joseph Bryant, Folkestone Museum and Library John Bullock, RAF Ref X003/0335/002/001 C. de Burgh, IWM Ref P228 F. O. Cave, IWM Ref DS/MISC/84 Miss D. Daubney, IWM Ref 96/37/1 C. E. Dixon, IWM Ref PP/MCR/26 H. G. Downing, IWM Ref 88/7/1 S. F. Edgington, RAF Ref B1115 Oliver Bernard Ellis, RAF Ref X002 5566/001–002 F. Evans, RAF Ref X003 6055 Philip Joubert de la Ferte, RAF Ref DC70/12 Ewart J Garland, IWM Ref P359 Robert Goldrich, IWM Ref 87/11/1 Oswald E. Hallifax, IWM Ref 85/41/1 F. A. Haylett, IWM Ref 02/35/1 F. W. Hill, RAF Ref B597 Thomas McKenny Hughes, IWM Ref PP/MCR/cl5 Maurice A. Kay, RAF Ref B1708 & 9 R. Douglas King-Harman, IWM Ref 99/35/1 W. C. Knight, IWM Ref 04/24/1 T. Orde Lees, ‘Use of Parachutes: Progress Reports 1918’, AIR 20/601 Norman Macmillan, IWM Ref 86/78/1 & 3 Leslie Morton Mansbridge, RAF Ref X001–6550/009–015 Sydney Manton, RAF Ref X001–2315/004 Gilbert Mapplebeck, RAF Ref DC71/8/175 James McCudden, RAF Ref AC 72/5/5–10, 14–16 & 23 Dudley McKergow, RAF Ref X002 5594/003 S. J. Middleton, IWM Ref 03/33/1 Sydney Morton, RAF Ref X001–2315/004 ‘Parachute Progress Report Number 12’, 17 October 1918, AIR 20/601

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 239

3/24/2013 10:30:19 PM

240

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Francis A.V. Pattenden, RAF Ref X001–2334/005/001–006 & X001–2334/ 006/001–006 F. C. Penny, IWM Ref 76/16/1 Walter Anderson Porkess, RAF Ref X002–5459/002 W. I. Prothero, IWM Ref 76/186/1 V. A. H. Robeson, IWM Ref 99/14/2 Royal Flying Corps, ‘Aerial Defence of the Tyne’, AIR 1/652 Royal Flying Corps, ‘Anti-Aircraft Guns and Aeroplanes for London, 27/7/14 – 11/8/14’, AIR 1/652 Royal Flying Corps, ‘Bomber Reports’, AIR 1/460/15/312/99 Royal Flying Corps, ‘Organization of Home Defence Wing RFC, AIR 1/612/16/15/300 Royal Flying Corps, ‘Reports’, AIR 1/129/15/40/191 Royal Flying Corps, ‘Submitting Proposals for Establishing Aircraft Stations Along Coast’, AIR 1/652 George John Scaramanga, WO 339/46214 Charles D. Smart, RAF Ref B2207 Gerald Dent Smith, RAF Ref X002–5484/003–005 A. C. Stanton, IWM Ref Con Shelf Geoffrey Wall, RAF Ref AC1998/10/11 War Office, ‘Aerial Reconnaissance Reports: Hejaz Operations’, 1918, WO 158/645 War Office, ‘Establishment of the RFC’, AIR 1/653/17/122/489 War Office, ‘Establishment of the Royal Flying Corps for which Accommodation Should be Provided’, 2 June 1913, WO 32/7212 War Office, ‘Instructions Regarding Action to be Taken Against Aircraft 13/8/14 – 18/14/15’, AIR 1/653/17/122/482 War Office, ‘Instructions Regarding the Aerial Defence of the United Kingdom Issued to Units of the Royal Flying Corps 1 March 1916 – 30th May 1916’, AIR 1/621/16/15/366 War Office, ‘Recruitment for RFC’, WO 162/60 War Office, ‘Reorganization for Defence of London During Air Raids 25/9/17 – 10/1017’ and ‘Details of Squadron Flying, Formation of, 29/9/16–1/10/16’, AIR 1/662/17/122/669 War Office, ‘Training Manual, Royal Flying Corps, Part II (Military Wing)’, 1915, WO 33/737 Lieutenant-Colonel Wilkinson, IWM Ref 99/14/2

Primary Printed Admiral Sir H. W. Admiral Sir R. H. Bacon, The Concise Story of the Dover Patrol (London: Hutchinson, 1932) Air Council, A Short History of the Royal Flying Air Force (London: Air Ministry, 1936 [1929])

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 240

3/24/2013 10:30:19 PM

BIBLIOGR APHY

241

R. S. Allison, The Surgeon Probationers (Belfast: Blackenstaff Press, 1979) Anon, Death in the Air: The War Diary & Photographs of a Flying Corps Pilot (London: William Heinemann, 1933) Max Arthur (ed), Forgotten Voices of the Great War (London: Ebury Press, 2002) ———. (ed), Lost Voices of the Royal Navy (London: Hodder Paperbacks, 2005) ———. (ed), The True Glory: The Royal Navy 1914–1939 (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1996) ———. (ed), We Will Remember Them: Voices from the Aftermath of the Great War (London: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 2009) Gertrude Bacon, All About Flying (London: Methuen & Co, 1919) H. H. Balfour, An Airman Marches (London: Hutchinson & Co., 1933) Maurice Baring, Flying Corps Headquarters 1914–1918 (London: William Heinemann Ltd, 1930 [1920]) C. P. O. Bartlett, Bomber Pilot 1916–1918 (London: Ian Allen Ltd, 1974) William A. Bishop, Winged Warfare (Folkestone: Bailey Brothers & Swifen Ltd, 1975) W. T. Blake, The Royal Flying Corps in the War (London: Cassell & Co., 1918) Alan Bott, Cavalry of the Clouds (London: Doubleday & Page, 1918) Philip Brereton Townsend, Eye in the Sky 1918: Recollections of Air-to-Ground Co-operation by WW1 Pilot (Private, 1986) Briscoe, Walter & Stannard, Russell, Captain Ball VC of the Royal Flying Corps (London: Herbert Jenkins Ltd, 1918) Sir Douglas Browning, Indiscretions of the Naval Censor (London: Cassell, 1920) Eric Wheeler Bush, Bless Our Ship (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1958) Captain Ernst Lehman, & Mingos, Howard, The Zeppelins: The Development of the Airship with the Story of the Zeppelin Air Raids in the World War (London: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1927) Captain Lionel Dawson, Flotillas: A Hard-Lying Story (London: Rich & Cowan Ltd, 1933) J. C. Carlile, Folkestone During the War 1914–1918 (Folkestone: F. J. Parstons Ltd, 1920) William Guy Carr, By Guess and By God (London: Hutchinson, 1931) Central Flying School, Hints for Young Instructors on How to Instruct in Flying (London: HMSO, 1916) L. E. O. Charlton, War Over England (London: Longmans, Green & Co., 1936) ———. Q Ships & Their Story (London: Sidgwick & Jackson, 1922) Eric Keble Chatterton, The Auxiliary Patrol (London: Sidgwick & Jackson, 1923) ———. The World Crisis 1911–1918: Volumes 1 & 2 (London: The New English Library, 1968) Winston Churchill, Naval Estimates in the Great War. A Speech Delivered by the Right Honourable Winston S. Churchill, M.P. (First Lord of the Admiralty) in the House of Commons on February 15th, 1915 (London: Liberal Publication Department, 1915)

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 241

3/24/2013 10:30:19 PM

242

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

L. Cope Cornford, The Parvane Adventure (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1919) Sidney Dark, The Life of Sir Arthur Pearson, Newspaper Proprietor and Founder of St Dunstan’s Hostel for Sailors and Soldiers Blinded by the Great War 1914–1918 (London: Hodder & Stoughton, c.1920s) K. G. B. Dewar, The Navy From Within (London: Victor Gollancz, 1939) Don Everitt, K Boats: Steam-Powered Submarines in World War 1 (Shrewsbury: Airlife Publishing Ltd, 1999 [1963]) Lord Fisher, Lord Fisher on the Navy: A Series of Articles by Admiral of the Fleet Lord Fisher. Reprinted from The Times, September 1919 (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1919) William Fry, Air of Battle (London: William Kimber, 1974) R. H. Gibson, Three Years of Naval Warfare (London: William Heinemann, 1918) H. Gregory, Never Again: A Diary of the Great War (London: Arthur H. Stockwell Ltd, 1934) Stephen King Hall, My Naval Life 1906–1929 (London: Faber & Faber, 1952) Peggy Hamilton, Three Years or the Duration: The Memoirs of a Munition Worker, 1914–1918 (London: Peter Owen, 1978) Victor Hayward, HMS Tiger at Bay: A Sailor’s Memoir 1914–1918 (London: William Kimber, 1977) Richard Hillary, The Last Enemy (London: Pimlico (Random House), 1997 [1942]) Arthur Hungerford Pollen, The Navy in Battle (London: Chatto & Windus, 1918) Archibald Hurd & Bashford, H. H., Sons of Admiralty: A Short History of the Naval War 1914–1918 (London: Constable & Co., 1919) H. A. Jones The War in the Air: Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by the Royal Air Force, Volumes 2–6 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1922–1937) [Volume 1 by Walter Raleigh] C. L. Kerr, All in the Day’s Work (London: Rich & Cowan Ltd, 1939) Sir Roger Keyes, The Naval Memoirs of Admiral of the Fleet Sir Roger Keyes. Volumes 1–2, (London: Thornton Butterworth Ltd, 1934 & 1935) R. H. Kiernan, The First War in the Air (London: Peter Davies Ltd, 1934) E. F. Knight, The Harwich Naval Forces: Their Part in the Great War (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1919) Arthur Gould Lee, Open Cockpit (London: Jarrolds, 1969) Cecil Lewis, Sagittarius Rising (London: Peter Davies, 1966 [1936]) John Leyland, The Achievement of the British Navy in the World War (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1918) Norman Macmillan, Into the Blue (London: Jarrolds, 1969 [1929]) H. C. Marr, Psychoses of War (Oxford: Oxford Medical Publications, 1919) Gordon S. Maxwell, The Naval Front (London: A & C Black, 1920) James McCudden, Flying Fury: Five Years in the Royal Flying Corps (Folkestone: Bailey Brothers & Swinfen, 1973 [1968])

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 242

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

BIBLIOGR APHY

243

‘McScotch’, Fighter Pilot (London: Newnes, 1938) Edgar Middelton, The Great War in the Air, Volumes 1–4 (London: The Waverley Book Co, 1920) Hallie Eustace Miles, Untold Tales of Wartime London. A Personal Diary (London: Cecil Palmer, 1930) Hallie Eustace Miles, Untold Tales of Wartime London: A Personal Diary (London: Cecil Palmer, 1930) C. E. Montague, Disenchantment (London: MacGibbon and Kee, 1922) Geoffrey Moore, Early Bird (London: Putnam, 1963) Joseph Morris, The German Air Raids on Great Britain 1914–1918 (London: Sampson, Low, Marston & Co., c.1925) L. F. R., Naval Guns in Flanders 1914–1915 (London: Constable, 1920) W. G. Neale, The Tides of War and Port of Bristol 1914–1918 (Bristol: The Port of Bristol Authority, 1976) Felicity Nesham, (ed), Socks, Cigarettes and Shipwrecks: A Family’s War Letters 1914–1918 (Gloucester: Alan Sutton, 1987) Henry Newbolt, A Naval History of the War 1914–1918 (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1920) Geoffrey Norris, The Royal Flying Corps: A History (London: Frederick Muller, 1965) Maud Onions, A Women at War: Being Experiences of an Army Signaller in France 1917–1919, (London: The C. W. Daniel Company, 1929) William Orpen, An Onlooker in France 1917–1919 (London: Williams & Norgate, 1924) C. S. Peel, How We Lived Then: 1914–1918 (London: The Bodley Head Ltd, 1929) ‘PIX’, The Spider Web: The Romance of Flying-Boat War Flight (Edinburgh: William Blackwood & Sons, 1919) Caroline E. Playne, Society at War (London: George Allen and Unwin Ltd, 1931) Walter Raleigh, The War in the Air: Being the Story of the Part Played in the Great War by the Royal Air Force, Volume 1 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1922–1937) [Volumes 2–6 by H. A. Jones] Ethel Richardson, Remembrance Wakes (London: Heath Crane Ltd, 1992) Richmond, Naval Training (London: Oxford University Press, 1933) W. H. Rivers, Instinct and the Unconscious (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1920) RNAS (ed), Naval Eight: A History of No 8 Squadron RNAS – Afterwards No 208 Squadron RAF – From its Formation in 1916 until the Armistice in 1918 (London: The Signal Press Ltd, 1931) RNAS, Reminiscences (Private: Portsmouth Command, 1919?) Leonard H. Rochford, I Chose the Sky (London: William Kimber, 1977) Harold Rosher, In the Royal Naval Air Service. War Letters of Harold Rosher (London: Chatto & Windus, 1916)

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 243

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

244

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Captain S. W. Roskill, (ed) Documents Relating to the Naval Air Service, Volume 1: 1908–1918, (London: Navy Records Society, 1969) John Ross, The Royal Flying Corps Boy Service. RFC-RNAS-RAF: The Link is Forged (London: Regency Press, 1990) Royal Flying Corps, The Work & Training of the Royal Flying Corps (The Illustrated London News, 1917/1918 [?]) Mabel Rudkin, Inside Dover 1914–1918: A Women’s Impressions (London: Elliot Stock, 1933) Wilkinson Sherrin, The Rights of the Ex-Service Man & Woman (London: L J Gooding, 1921) Guy Slater (ed), My Warrior Sons: The Borton Family Diary 1914–1918 (London: Peter Davies, 1973) G. Elliot Smith, and Pear, T. H., Shell Shock and its Lessons (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1917) C. F. Snowden, The Story of a North Sea Air Station (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1928) Geoffrey Sparrow, On Four Fronts with the Royal Naval Division (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1918) E. L. Spear, Prelude to Victory (London: Jonathan Cooper, 1940) ‘Spin’, Short Flights with the Cloud Cavalry (London: Hodder & Stoughton, 1918) L. A. Strange, Recollections of an Airman (London: John Hamilton Ltd, 1933) Richard Stumpf, War, Mutiny & Revolution in the German Navy: The World War I Diary of Richard Stumpf (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1967) Charles C. Turner, The Struggle in the Air 1914–1918 (London: Edward Arnold, 1919) Various, Deeds That Thrill the Empire: True Stories of the Most Glorious Acts of Heroism of the Empire’s Soldiers & Sailors During the Great War, Volume 1 (Eastbourne: Anthony Rowe Ltd [undated]) E. W. Walters, Heroic Airmen & Their Exploits (London: Charles H Kelly, 1917) War Office, Statistics of the Military Effort of the British Empire During the Great War 1914–1920 (London: Naval & Military Press, 1999 [1922]) Herbert Ward, An Erratic Odyssey (London: Odyssey Books, 1988) Gerard Wells, Naval Customs and Traditions (London: Philip Allan, 1930) Lady Wester Wemyss (ed) The Life and Letters of Lord Wester Wemyss (London: Eyre & Spottiswood, 1935) ———. & Harper, Harry, Romance of Reality: The Aeroplane (London: TC & EC Jack, 1914) Claude Graham White, & Harper, Harry, Heroes of the Flying Corps (London: Henry Frowde, 1916) Carroll Dana Winslow, With the French Flying Corps (London: Constable, 1917) Eric Wood, Thrilling Deeds of British Airmen (Portsmouth: George G. Harrap & Co. Ltd, 1918)

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 244

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

BIBLIOGR APHY

245

Rothesay Stuart Wortley, Letters From a Flying Officer (Gloucester: Alan Sutton, 1982 [1928])

Secondary Mark Abrams, The Condition of the British People 1911–1945: A Study Prepared by the Fabian Society (London: Victor Gollancz Ltd, 1945) Michael C. C. Adams, The Great Adventure: Male Desire and the Coming of World War I (Bloomington: Indiana Press, 1990) Christopher Andrew, The Defence of the Realm: The Authorized History of MI5 (London: Allen Lane, 2009) Tony Ashworth, Trench Warfare 1914–1918 (London: Macmillan, 1980) ———. & Becker, Annette, 1914–1918: Understanding the Great War (London: Profile Books, 2002 [2000]) Stephane Audoin-Rouzeau, Men at War 1914–1918 (Oxford: Berg Publishers, 1992) Anthony Babington, Shell-Shock: A History of Changing Attitudes to War Neurosis (London: Leo Cooper, 1997) Stephanie Barczewski, Antarctic Destinies: Scott, Shackelton and the Changing Face of Heroism (London: Hambledon Continuum, 2007) ———. The Swordbearers (London: Eyre & Spottiswood, 1968) Corelli Barnett, The Collapse of British Power (London: Allen Sutton Publishing Ltd, 1972) Ian Beckett, & Simpson, Keith, A Nation in Arms (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1985) Therese Benedek, Insight and Personality Adjustment: A Study of the Psychological Effects of War (New York: The Ronald Press Company, 1946) Geoffrey Bennett, Naval Battles of the First World War (London: B T Batsford, 1968) Eric Bently, A Century of Hero-Worship (London: Beacon Press, 1957) Hartmut Berghoff, & von Friedeburg, Robert (eds), Change and Inertia: Britain Under the Impact of the Great War (London: Philo, 1998) Hans Binnevald, From Shellshock to Combat Stress: A Comparative History of Military Psychiatry (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 1997) Patrick Bishop, Fighter Boys: Saving Britain, 1940 (London: Harper Collins, 2003) Brian Bond, War & Society in Europe, 1870–1970 (London: Fontant Press, 1986) ———. Dismembering the Male: Men’s Bodies & the Great War (London: Reaktion Books, 1996) ———. Fear. A Cultural History (London: Virago, 2005) Joanna Bourke, An Intimate History of Killing: Face-to-Face Killing in TwentiethCentury Warfare (London: Granta Books, 1999) Chaz Bowyer, Airmen of World War 1 (London: Arms and Armour Press, 1975) Andrew Boyle, Trenchard Man of Vision (London: Collins, 1962)

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 245

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

246

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Ernest Braun, Futile Progress: Technology’s Empty Promise (London: Earthscape Publications Ltd, 1995) Gail Braybon, (ed) Evidence, History & the Great War: Historians & the Impact of 1914–18 (New York: Berghahn Books, 2003) Tony Bridgland, Sea Killers in Disguise: The Story of the Q-Ships and Decoy Ships in the First World War (Maryland: Naval Institute Press, 1999) Angus Calder, Disaster & Heroes: On War, Memory & Representation (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 2004) Anthony Carew, The Lower Deck of the Royal Navy 1900–39: The Invergordon Mutiny in Perspective (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1981) ———. Donkeys (London: Hutchinson, 1961) Alan Clarke, Aces High: The War in the Air Over the Western Front 1914–1918 (London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1973) Christopher Cole, & Cheesman, E. F., The Air Defence of Britain 1914–1918 (London: Putnam, 1984) Diana Condell, & Liddiard, Jean, Working for Victory? Images of Women in the First World War 1914–1918 (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1987) Mark Connelly, The Great War, Memory & Ritual: Commemoration in the City & East London, 1916–1939 (Suffolk: The Royal Historical Society, 2002) Peter Cooksley, The RFC/RNAS Handbook 1914–1918 (Stroud: Sutton Publishing, 2000) Cathryn Corns, & Wilson, John, Blindfold & Alone (London: Cassell & Co, 2001) Barbara Darling-Smith, Courage (Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press, 2002) Graham Dawson, Soldier Heroes: British Adventure, Empire and the Imagining of Masculinities (London: Routledge, 1994) Gerald DeGroot, Blighty: British Society in the Era of the Great War (London: Longman, 1996) Len Deighton, Battle of Britain (London: Jonathan Cope, 1980) Hugh Driver, The Birth of Military Aviation: Britain 1903–1914, Woodbridge, Suffolk: The Royal Historical Society (Woodbridge: The Boydell Press, 1997) ———. Science, Technology and the British Industrial ‘Decline’ 1870–1970 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996) ———. Shock of the Old: Technology and Global History Since 1900 (London: Profile Books, 2006) David Edgerton, England and the Aeroplane: An Essay on a Militant and Technological Nation (London: Macmillan, 1991) Gil Elliot, Twentieth Century Book of the Dead (London: Allen Lane, The Penguin Press, 1972) Richard Van Emden & Humphries, Steve, All Quiet on the Home Front: An Oral History of Britain During the First World War (London: Headline, 2003)

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 246

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

BIBLIOGR APHY

247

Niall Ferguson, The Pity of War (London: The Penguin Press, 1998) Mark Freeman, Rewriting the Self: History, Memory, Narrative (London: Routledge, 1993) J. G. Fuller, Troop Morale & Popular Culture in the British & Dominion Armies 1914– 1918 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991) Paul Fussell, The Great War & Modern Memory (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1975) Martin Gilbert, First World War (London: Harper Collins Publishers, 1994) J. Glenn Gray, The Warriors: Reflections on Men in Battle (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1998 [1970]) Stefan Goebel, The Great War and Medieval Memory: War, Remembrance and Medievalism in Britain and Germany 1914–1940 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007) Alfred Gollin, The Impact of Air Power on the British People & Their Government 1909–14 (Hampshire: MacMillan Press, 1989) ———. The Killing Time (London: Seeley Services, 1972) Edwin Gray, A Damned Un-English Weapon (Seeley Services, 1971) Andrew Green, Writing the Great War: Sir James Edmonds & the Official Histories 1915–1918 (London: Frank Cass, 2003) Adrian Gregory, The Silence of Memory (Oxford: Berg Publishers, 1994) Dave Grossman, On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War & Society (New York: Back Bay Books, 1996) Michael Hadley, Count Not the Dead: The Popular Image of the German Submarine (Montreal & Kingston: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1995) Paul Halpern, A Naval History of World War I (London: UCL Press, 1994) Brayton Harris, The Navy Times Book of Submarines: A Political, Social and Military History (New York: Berkley Books, 1997) Peter Hart, Bloody April: Slaughter in the Skies Over Arras 1917 (London: Cassell, 2006) Trevor Henshaw, The Sky Their Battlefield: Air Fighting and the Complete List of Allied Air Casualties from Enemy Action in the First World War. British, Commonwealth & United States Air Services 1914–1918 (London: Grub Street, 1995) Robert Hinde, & Watson, Helen (eds) War: A Cruel Necessity? The Bases of Institutionalized Violence (London: I. B. Tauris Publishers, 1995) A. A. Hoehling, The Great War at Sea: A History of Naval Action 1914–1918 (London: Arthur Barker, 1965) Wendy Holden, Shell Shock: The Psychological Impact of War (London: Channel 4 Books, 1998) ———. Tommy: The British Soldier on the Western Front 1914–1918 (London: HarperCollins, 2004) Richard Holmes, Acts of War: The Behaviour of Men in Battle (New York: The Free Press, 1985) Richard Holt, J. A. Mangan & Pierre Lanfranchi (eds), European Heroes: Myth, Identity, Sport (London: Frank Cass, 1996)

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 247

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

248

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

John Home & Alan Kramer, German Attrocities 1914: A History of Denial (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2001) Richard Hough, The Great War at Sea 1914–1918 (London: Oxford University Press, 1983) Roy Humphreys, The Dover Patrol 1914–1918 (Gloucestershire: Sutton Publishing, 1998) Samuel Hynes, A War Imagined (London: The Bodley Head, 1990) William Jameson, The Most Formidable Thing: The Story of the Submarine from its Earliest Days to the End of World War I (London: Rupert Hart-Davis Ltd, 1965) John Keegan, The Face of Battle (London: Jonathan Cooper, 1976) Bruce Kent, The Spoils of War: The Politics, Economics & Diplomacy of Reparations 1918–1932 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991) R. H. Kiernan, Captain Albert Ball (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1933) Peter Kilduff, The Illustrated Red Baron: The Life and Times of Manfred von Richthofen (London: Cassell, 1999) Alex King, Memorials of the Great War in Britain: The Symbolism & Politics of Remembrance (Oxford: Berg Publishers, 1998) Gabriel Koureas, Memory, Masculinity & National Identity in British Visual Culture 1914–1930: A Study of ‘Unconquerable Manhood’ (Hampshire: Ashgate Publishing Ltd, 2007) John Laffin, Swifter Than Eagles: The Biography of Marshal of the Royal Air Force Sir John Maitland Samon (Edinburgh: William Blackwood & Sons, 1964) Eric Leed, No Man’s Land: Combat & Identity in World War I (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979) Joshua Levine, On a Wing and a Prayer (London: Collins, 2008) ———. Home Fires and Foreign Fields (London: Brassey’s, 1985) ———. The Sailor’s War (Poole: Blandford Press, 1985) Peter Liddle, The Airman’s War 1914–1918 (Poole: Blandford Press, 1987) Sven Lindqvist, A History of Bombing (London: Granta Books, 2001) David Lloyd, Battlefield Tourism: Pilgrimage & the Commemoration of the Great War in Britain, Australia & Canada 1919–1939 (Oxford: Berg Publishers, 1998) John Mackenzie, (ed) Popular Imperialism and the Military, 1850–1950 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1992) Anna Makolkin, Anatomy of Heroism (New York: Legas, 2000) Arthur Marder, From the Dreadnought to Scapa Flow: The Royal Navy in the Fisher Era, 1904–1919, Volumes 1–5 (London: Oxford University Press, 1961–1970) Joyce Marlow, (ed) The Virago Book of Women and the Great War (London: Virago 1998) Arthur Marwick, The Deluge: British Society & the First World War (London: Bodley Head, 1965) Robert K. Massie, Castles of Steel: Britain, Germany and the Winning of the Great War at Sea (London: Jonathan Cape, 2004)

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 248

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

BIBLIOGR APHY

249

Charles Masterman, England After War: A Study (London: Hodder & Stoughton, c.1922) Alexander McKee, The Friendless Sky: The Story of Air Combat in World War 1 (London: Souvenir Press, 1962) Martin Middlebrook, The First Day on the Somme (London: Penguin Press, 1971) William Ian Miller, The Mystery of Courage (Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 2000) John H. Morrow, The Great War in the Air: Aviation from 1909 to 1921 (Washington: Smithsonian Institute Press, 1993) George Mosse, The Image of Man: The Creation of Modern Masculinity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996) David Mould, Remember Scarborough 1914! (Lancashire: Hendon Publishing Co., 1978) W. G. Neale, The Tides of War and the Port of Bristol: 1914–1918 (Bristol: Port of Bristol Authority, 1976) Jonathan Nicholls, Cheerful Sacrifice: The Battle of Arras 1917 (London: Leo Cooper, 1995) Michael Occleshaw, Armour Against Fate: British Military Intelligence in the First World War (London: Columbus Books, 1989) Arnold Pacey, The Culture of Technology (London: Basil Blackwell, 1983) Stanley Payne, David Sorkin, John Tortonce (eds) What History Tells Us: George L. Mosse and the Culture of Modern Europe (Wisconsin: University of Wisconsin Press, 2004) Harold Penrose, British Aviation: The Great War & the Armistice 1915–1919 (London: Putnam, 1969) Ken Plummer, Documents of Life 2 (London: Sage Publications, 2001) John Plumridge, Hospital Ships and Ambulance Trains (London: Seeley Services, 1975) Anthony Pollen, The Great Gunnery Scandal: The Mystery of Jutland (London: Collins, 1980) John Pollock, Kitchener (London: Constable, 2001) M. M Postan, D. Hay & J. D. Scott, Design and Development of Weapons: Studies in Government and Industrial Organisation (London: HMSO, 1964) A. Rawlinson, The Defence of London, 1915–1918 (London: Andrew Melrose, 1923) Douglas Robinson, The Zeppelin in Combat: A History of the German Naval Airship Division 1912–1918 (Henley-on-Thames: G. T. Foulis & Co., 1962) Robin Rosenberg (ed) The Psychology of Superheroes. An Unauthorised Exploration (Texas: Benbella Books, 2008) David Ross, Richard Hillary: The Definitive Biography of a Battle of Britain Fighter Pilot and Author of The Last Enemy (London: Grub Street, 2003) Jan Rueger, The Great Naval Game: Britain & Germany in the Age of Empire (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007)

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 249

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

250

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Andrew Rutherford, The Literature of War: Five Studies in Heroic Virtue (London: Macmillan, 1978) Ben Shepherd, War of Nerves (London: Jonathan Cape, 2000) Elaine Showalter, The Female Malady (London: Virago, 1987) General Sir Charles Guthrie, The New British Way in Warfare, Liddell Hart Annual Lecture (12 February 2001 held at King’s College London) Merrit Roe Smith & Marx, Leo (eds) Does Technology Drive History? The Dilemma of Technological Determinism (Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1996) Adam Smith, Mick Mannock Fighter Pilot (New York: Palgrave, 2001) Nigel Steel & Peter Hart, Jutland 1916: Death in the Grey Waters (London: Cassell, 2003) Matthew Stribbe, German Anglophobia & the Great War, 1914–1918 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001) Jon Tetsumo Sumida, In Defence of Naval Supremacy, Finance, Techonology & British Naval Policy 1889–1914 (Boston: Unwin Hyman, 1989) John Terraine, White Heat: The New Warfare 1914–18 (London: Leo Cooper, 1992) Klaus Theweleit, Male Fantasies (London: Polity Press, 1989) Deborah Thom, Nice Girls & Rude Girls (London: I. B. Tauris Publishers, 1998) Sir Robert Thompson, The Royal Flying Corps (London: Hamish Hamilton, 1968) Paul Thompson, The Voice of the Past: Oral History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1978) F. D. Treadrey, Pioneer Pilot: The Great Smith Barry Who Taught the World How to Fly (London: Peter Davies, 1976) Martin Van Creveld, Technology and War: From 2000 B.C. to the Present (London: Brassey’s (UK), 1991) Stuart Wallace, War & the Image of Germany: British Academics 1914–1918 (Edinburgh: John Donald Publishers Ltd, 1988) John K. Walton, The British Seaside: Holidays and Resorts in the Twentieth Century (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2000) J. M. Ward, Dawn Raid: The Bombardment of the Hartlepools: Wednesday December 16 1914 (Hartlepool: Printability Publishing, 1992) Alexander Watson, Enduring the Great War: Combat, Morale and Collapse in the German and British Armies, 1914–1918 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008) C. M. White, The Gotha Summer: The German Daytime Air Raids in England, May-August 1917 (London: Robert Hale, 1986) Arch Whitehouse, The Years of the Sky Kings (London: MacDonald, 1959) John Williams, The Home Fronts: Britain, France & Germany 1914–1918 (London: Constable, 1972) Geoffrey Williams, Wings Over Westgate: The Story of a Front Line Naval Air Station During World War I (Kent County Library, 1985) Trevor Wilson, The Myriad Faces of War: Britain & the Great War 1914–1918 (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1986)

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 250

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

BIBLIOGR APHY

251

———. & Robert, Jean-Louis (eds) Capital Cities at War: Paris, London & Berlin 1914–1919 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999) ———. The Experience of World War I (London: Macmillan, 1988) ———. The Great War & the British People (London: Macmillan, 1985) Jay Winter, Sites of Memory, Sites of Mourning: The Great War in European Cultural History (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997) John Denis Winter, The First of the Few (London: Allen Lane, 1982) Winton, (ed) The Submariners Life in British Submarines 1901–1999: An Anthology of Personal Experience (London: Constable, 1999) David Wragg, Royal Navy Handbook 1914–1918 (Gloucestershire: Sutton Publishing, 2006) Unpublished Thesis M. Philpott, ‘Disillusion During the Great War’, University of Cambridge MPhil thesis, 2003

Articles Dean C Allard, ‘Anglo-American Naval Differences During World War I’, Military Affairs, Volume 44, No. 2 (April 1980) Read Bain, ‘Morale for War and Peace’, Social Forces, Volume 21, No. 4 (May 1943) Joanna Bourke, ‘Remembering War’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 39, No. 4 (2004) Brooks, ‘Making Military Might: Why Do States Fail and Succeed?’, International Security, Volume 28, No. 2 (Autumn 2003) Malcolm Cooper, ‘Blueprint for Confusion. The Administrative Background to the Formation of the Royal Air Force, 1912–19’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 22, No. 3 (July 1987) George Creel, ‘Propaganda and Morale’, The American Journal of Sociology, Volume 47, No. 3 (November 1941) G. M. B. Dobson, ‘Design of Instrument for Navigation of Aircraft’, The Geographical Journal, Volume 56, No. 5 (November 1920) David Edgerton, ‘Invention, Technology or History: What is Historiography of Technology About?’, Conference Paper, University of Washington (2007) Peter Fearon, ‘The Growth of Aviation in Britain’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 20, No. 1 (January 1985) John Ferns, ‘Fighter Defence before Fighter Command: the Rise of Strategic Air Defence in Great Britain-1934’, The Journal of Military History, Volume 63, No. 4 (October 1999) ———. ‘Re-membered and Re-mobilized: The “Sleeping Dead” in Inter-War Germany and Britain’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 39, No. 4 (2004)

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 251

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

252

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

———. ‘Review Article: Beyond Discourse? Bodies and Memories of Two World Wars’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 42, No. 2 (2007) Stefan Goebel, ‘Intersecting Memories: War and Remembrance in TwentiethCentury Europe’, The Historical Journal, Volume 44, No. 3 (September 2001) Robert L. Hamblin, Miller, Keith & Wiggins, James A., ‘Group Morale and Competence of the Leader’, Sociometry, Volume 24, No. 3 (September 1961) Michael Heffernan, ‘Geography, Cartography & Military Intelligence: The Royal Geographical Society & the First World War’, Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers, New Series, Volume 21, No. 3 (1996) Eric von Hippel, ‘The Dominant Role of Users in the Scientific Instrument Process’, Research Policy, Volume 5 (1976) ———. ‘The Psychology of Killing: The Combat Experience of Soldiers During the First World War’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 4, No. 2 (2006) Edgar Jones, ‘Battle for the Mind, War & Its Psychological Effects’, Inaugural Lecture of the Institute of Psychiatry, King’s College London (27 November 2005) Margaret Jourdain, ‘Air Raid Reprisals & Starvation by Blockade’, International Journal of Ethics, Volume 28, No. 4 (July 1918) William Latey, ‘The Law of the Air’, Transaction of the Grotius Society (1921) Erik Lund, ‘The Industrial History of Strategy, Reevaluating the Wartime Record of the British Aviation Industry in Comparative Perspective 1919–1945’, Journal of Military History, Volume 62, No. 1 (January 1998) Roy M MacLeod & Andrews E Kay, ‘Scientific Advice in the War at Sea 1915–1917: The Board of Invention & Research’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 6, No. 2, (1971) N. N. Macleod, ‘Mapping from Air Photographs: Discussion’, The Geographical Journal, Volume 53, No. 6 (1919) David McGregor, ‘The Use, Misuse, and Non-Use of History: The Royal Navy and the Operational Lessons of the First World War,’Journal of Military History, Volume 56, No. 4 Phillip Meilinger, ‘The Historiography of Airpower: Theory & Doctrine’, Journal of Military History, Volume 64, No. 2 (April 2000) Delbert C. Miller, ‘The Measurement of National Morale’, American Sociological Review, Volume 6, No. 4 (August 1941) George Mosse, ‘Shell Shock as a Social Disease’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 35, No. 1 (2000) O. P. Napier Pearn, ‘Psychoses in the Expeditionary Forces,’ Journal of Mental Science, Volume 65 (1919) Keith Neilson, ‘Total War: Total History’, Military Affairs, Volume 51, No. 1, January (1987) Avner Offer, ‘The Working Class, British Naval Plans and the Coming of the Great War’, Past & Present, No. 107 (May 1985)

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 252

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

BIBLIOGR APHY

253

Michael Paris, ‘The Rise of the Airmen: The Origins of Air Force Elitism, c.1890 – 1918’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 28, No. 1 (January 1993) Eric H Partridge, ‘Words Get Their Wings’, College English, Volume 7, No. 1 (October 1945) Martin Petter. ‘ “Temporary Gentlemen” in the Aftermath of the Great War: Rank, Status and the Ex-Officer Problem’, The Historical Journal, Volume 37, No. 1 (1994) Jan Rueger, ‘Nation, Empire & Navy: Identity Politics in the United Kingdom, 1887–1914’, Past & Present, No. 185 (November 2004) Meg Weston Smith, ‘E. A. Milne and the Creation of Air Defence: Some Letters From an Unprincipled Brigand 1916–1919’, Notes & Records of the Royal Society of London, Volume 44, No. 2 (July 1990) Hew Strachan, ‘Training, Morale and Modern War’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 41, No. 2 (2006) John Sweetman, ‘Crucial Months for Survival: The Royal Air Force 1918–1919’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 19, No. 3 (June 1984) T. H. E. Travers, ‘Technology, Tactics and Morale: Jean de Bloch, the Boer War and British Military Theory 1900–1914’, Journal of Modern History, Volume 51, No. 2 (June 1979) John Talbort, ‘Soldiers, Psychiatrists and Combat Trauma’, Journal of Interdisciplinary History, Volume 27, No. 3 (1997) ———. ‘British Naval Operational Logistics, 1914–1918’,The Journal of Military History, Volume, 57, No. 3 (July 1993) ———. ‘Sir John Fisher & the Dreadnought: The Sources of Naval Mythology’, The Journal of Military History, Volume 59, No. 4 (July 1995) Jon Tetsuro Sumida, ‘A Matter of Timing: The Royal Navy and the Tactics of Decisive Battle 1912–1916’, The Journal of Military History, Volume 67, No. 1 (January 2003) W. K. Thompson, ‘The Naval Officer Training Program’, Journal of Educational Sociology, Volume 16, No. 9, Our Changing Armed Forces (May 1943) Various, ‘Imperial Air Routes: Discussion’, The Geographical Journal, Volume 55, No. 4 (April 1920) Colin Veicht, ‘Play Up! Play Up! And Win the War! Football, the Nation and the First World War 1914–15’, Journal of Contemporary History, Volume 20, No. 3 (July 1985) Simon Wessely, ‘Risk, Psychiatry & the Military’, Liddell Hart Annual Lecture, King’s College London (2 March 2004) G. L. Whitlock, et al, ‘Mapping from Air Photographs: Discussion’, The Geographical Journal, Volume 53, No. 6 (June 1919) J. M. Winter, ‘Britain’s Lost Generation of the First World War’, Population Studies, Volume 31, No. 3 (November 1977) Henry Woodhouse, ‘Aeronautical Maps and Aerial Transportation’, Geographical Review, Volume 4, No. 5 (November 1917)

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 253

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

254

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

IN

WORLD WAR I

Newspaper Articles The Times, 27 June 1919 The Times, 2 September 1919 The Times, 3 July 1920 The Times, 17 July 1923

Philpott_Bibliography.indd 254

3/24/2013 10:30:20 PM

INDEX

A Accidents, RFC 5, 38–40, 168 Aces 93, 160, 173, 184 Admiralty 4, 5, 15, 18, 26, 48, 51, 53, 70–72, 80, 89, 100, 119, 121–123, 125, 138, 140, 141–145, 147–149, 166, 185, 187, 189–192, 195, 209 Aerial Maps 99, 105–106, 210 Aerial Navigation 36, 106, 115, 153, 169 Compass 106, 115 Aerial Navigation Act 4 Aerial observation 69, 101, 104–106, 111, 114 Aerial Photography 28, 61, 74, 99, 104–106, 111, 210 Cameras 15, 104–106, 115 Processing Units 105 Aeroplanes, British DH2 110 FE2D 107, 110 SE5 113 Sopworth Pup 110 Aeroplanes, German Albatrosse 101, 111, 130 Fokker 101, 109–110, 116, 130 Air Raids 91, 114, 136, 146, 149, 159–160, 162, 189

Philpott_Index.indd 255

Civilian Casualties 137, 147, 149, 154–159 Illegality 160 Servicemens’ Views 159–162 Aircraft Industry 100–101, 103, 113, 209 Military Investment 3, 40, 99–100, 103 Problems of Supply 101–103 Anti-Aircraft 64–65, 68, 122, 143–144, 153 Anti-submarine (see also Submarine) 122, 126 Hydrophones 127–129 Sealions 128 Sonar 129 Armistice 173, 187–188, 192, 202 Arms race 4, 117–118, 120, 131 Army Council 143, 148, 152 B Bases (see also Leisure) 4, 5, 87–88, 181, 200 Conditions 73 Preparation 4, 120, 136, 143–145 Scapa Flow 86, 120, 131 Bloody April 17, 111, 154, 157

3/24/2013 10:33:01 PM

256

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

Board of Invention & Research 121–123, 127–128, 130 Bombs 61, 108, 114, 115–116, 122, 137, 143, 147, 149, 153, 155, 156, 209 Boredom 17, 71–72, 79, 84, 152 British Expeditionary Force 3, 36, 134 C Churchill, Winston 100, 131, 134, 144, 149 Commemoration 20, 164, 194–195 Comradeship 56, 78, 83–84, 94, 166, 181 Information-Sharing, RFC 92–93, 104, 113, 205 Mess life 68, 76, 84–86, 88, 145 Courage 55–62, 64, 77, 81, 83, 85, 92, 100, 172,174–175, 179, 184 Customs and rituals 9, 34–35, 70, 78, 92–93, 164, 167, 185, 187, 199, 201 D Death 22, 51, 64–70, 111, 172–173, 175, 177–179, 204 Language 62–63, 94 Mortality Rates 38, 66, 68 Dog-fighting 99, 110–112, 114, 179, 210 Dogger Bank, Battle of 9–10, 62, 136 Dreadnought 98, 118–119, 121, 126, 135, 204 F Fisher, Admiral Sir John 15, 118, 122–123, 125, 131, 149, 192 Flying School Central 5, 29–30, 32–33, 35, 42, 49 Civilian 28–29 Naval 5, 141

Philpott_Index.indd 256

IN

WORLD WAR I

Folkestone 31, 138–139, 155 Formation Flying 69, 111, 113, 157, 200 French, Field Marshal Sir John 151–152, 157 French Flying Corps 93, 101 G Garros, Roland 109 German Air Force 8, 73, 93, 101, 110–114, 134–136, 154–156 Gotha 116, 135, 154–157, 209 Grahame White, Claude 29, 35, 90 H Health (see also Sport) 32, 45, 51, 66, 76, 87, 89–90, 107, 120, 202 Breakdown 58, 75–76, 108 Fitness 51–52, 90 Illness 17, 72 Physical Effects of Flying 106–108 Heligoland Blight, Battle of 9, 62, 125 Heroism Adventure 164–165, 171, 175–181, 195 Anti-hero 195 Characteristics 171 175 Chivalry 81, 173–175, 182–184, 196 Privilege 175, 181 Hierarchy Navy 9, 23, 28, 44–45, 48–49, 70, 83, 94, 141, 201, 207 RFC 30, 34, 51, 82 High Seas Fleet 9, 10, 48, 53, 71–72, 99, 124, 126, 129, 186, 188–190, 196, 200, 205, 207, 210 Hillary, Richard 173–174 History of Technology 96, 103, 105, 108, 110, 113–114, 117, 119, 124, 130 Historiography, 97–100

3/24/2013 10:33:01 PM

INDEX Home Front (see also Air Raids) Cost of Living 138 Entertainment 18, 139, 150–151 Restrictions 18, 137–140, 150 I Instructors, Flying 30–33, 36 Civilian, 3, 36, 40 Veteran, 34, 37–38, 108 Intelliegence Gathering, RFC 2, 3, 49, 73, 102, 104, 114, 157, 199, 200, 209–210 International Conference on Aerial Navigation, 1910 4 Italian Air Force 109 J Jellicoe, Admiral Sir John 15, 71 Jutland, Battle of 9, 10, 26, 48, 61–63, 66–67, 71, 79, 94, 119 Memoirists’ View 188–192, 202, 205 K Killing 19, 55, 62–65, 77, 111, 177, 208 L Leadership, Perceptions of 15, 19, 46, 50, 56, 59, 61, 62, 70–71, 82–83, 119, 191, 193–194 Leisure (see also Sport) Alcohol 46, 75–77, 85, 88, 138–139, 150 Contact with Civilians 38, 46, 75, 91, 145 Gambling 76–77, 91 Music 82, 85, 89, 138, 46, 144, 181 Theatre 88–89, 138 London 82, 123, 137, 143–144, 146–147, 150–151, 153–154, 160–161, 181, 201 London Air Defence Area 157, 161

Philpott_Index.indd 257

257

M Machine Guns 31–32, 80, 90, 109, 143, 153, 177 Masculinity 19, 57–58, 60–61, 78, 81–83, 94–95, 164, 171–173, 180, 183, 201, 20 Mines 11, 65, 71, 79, 124, 187 Moral Fibre 58, 62, 75–77 Morale 2, 10, 48, 58–60, 68–69, 79, 89, 95, 154, 156, 190, 202, 209–210 N Newspapers 70, 76, 80, 119, 138, 159–160, 171, 184–185 O Observer, RFC 6, 73, 93, 104–105, 107 P Pageants Royal Flying Corps 169–170, 178 Royal Navy 9, 21,170, 185, 187, 204 Parachutes 68 Personal Control 69, 92–95, 140 Public Enthusiasm 3, 8, 184–185 R Reconnaissance 7, 53, 61, 63, 73–74, 99, 103, 109–113, 144, 146, 157 Recruitment Navy 9, 141 RFC 7, 29, 51, 102, 168, 111 Royal Aero Club Certificate 5, 17, 28–29, 37 Royal Air Force 3, 14, 22, 117, 164, 180–185 Attitudes to, 82–83, 166, 167 Formation, 165–166 Post-war purpose, 167–170, 195–196

3/24/2013 10:33:01 PM

258

A IR

AND

SEA POWER

Royal Flying Corps Training Flight Training 28–29, 33–34 Instructors 3, 30, 32–33, 36–38, 40, 108 Reforms 40, 49, 165 Theoretical Programme 31–32 Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS) Combat on the Home Front 143–149 SupplyRelations with RFC 102–103 Training 141–142 Royal Navy Training Discipline 9, 42–44, 83 Purpose 41–43 Training Ships 42, 46–47 S Service Pride 32, 41–42, 49, 67, 77–81, 93, 183, 186–187, 199–200, 203–204 Smith Barry, Robert 40–41 Training Reforms 40, 49, 165 Smuts, Jan Christian 165–167 Air Reform 1917, 165–167 Sources Diaries 24 Letters 24 Memoirs 25 Sport (see also Health) 32, 35–36, 44–46, 49–52, 61, 82, 87, 89–90, 139, 141 Subcommittee on Imperial Defence 4

Philpott_Index.indd 258

IN

WORLD WAR I

Submarines (See also Anti-submarine) 10–11, 17, 53, 56, 62–63, 66, 71–72, 122, 126, 127, 129–131, 187 Death 65 Development 124–125 Strategy 79, 119, 121, 124, 126 T Trenchard, Hugh 70, 176 U Uniforms 7, 31–32, 107, 139, 166–167, 177, 199 University Air Squadrons 168–169, 195 V von Richthofen, Baron Manfred 93, 111, 113 W War Office 4, 30, 40, 68. 100–101, 103, 111, 137, 143, 149, 151, 153–154, 156, 159, 166, 167, 189, 195 Washington Treaty 1921–1922 186 Z Zeppelin (see also RNAS) 15, 40, 116, 134–135, 142, 143, 151, 153, 209 Air-raids 145–149, 155 Development, 135–137 Retirement, 154

3/24/2013 10:33:01 PM