The Aeroplane in War

In view of the perfected apparatus which is the aim of thoughtful designers—the aeroplane has demonstrated, in a conclusive way, its value as an instrument of war.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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