MECHANICAL MISCELLANEA
"I am more than grateful to you and your fellow-locomotive
superintendents of the various railway companies for your readiness
to help us in this time of pressure."
In these brief but none the less straightforward and sincere terms, did
the late Sir F. Donaldson, then superintendent of Woolwich Arsenal,
address himself to Mr. Cooke in the early part of November, 1914, terms
expressive, not merely of his own personal feelings of gratitude, but
also of Government appreciation of the assistance so spontaneously
proffered by the chief mechanical engineers of the great railway
concerns of the country.
Looking back over the four and a half years during which was fought out
that "stupendous and incessant struggle," not without reason perhaps
described as "a single continuous campaign," Sir Douglas Haig, in his
final Despatch, under date of March 21st, 1919, whilst reminding us
that we were at the outset "unprepared for war, or at any rate for a
war of such magnitude," lays especial stress on the fact that "we were
deficient both in trained men and military material, and, what was
more important, had no machinery ready by which either men or material
could be produced in anything approaching the requisite quantities."
In short, "the margin by which the German onrush in 1914 was stemmed
was so narrow, and the subsequent struggle so severe that the word
'miraculous' is hardly too strong a term to describe the recovery and
ultimate victory of the Allies."
There can be no gainsaying the fact that in spite of frequent and
bombastic assurances to the contrary emanating from the All-Highest,
the Almighty must indeed have been on our side, for surely never in the
history of mankind did a people "ask for trouble" in quite the same
barefaced manner as did the great British people in the early part of
the twentieth century of grace?
"Give peace in our time," might well be the prayer purred by the devout
lips, year in year out, of innumerable comfortably-respectable, smug,
and faithful citizens on each succeeding Sabbath day. Obviously, for
there was "none other that fighteth for us but only Thou." There
was never any attempt at denial; we were unprepared and well-nigh
negligible, "deficient in trained men and military material." It
will be argued, no doubt, that the practice of offering up prayer
and supplication is a very desirable and eminently estimable form of
procedure, but it is nevertheless a generally accepted theory that the
Almighty helps those only who help themselves. Miracles do not perform
themselves in these matter-of-fact work-a-day times, and we may pause
to reflect both upon the cost at which, and the means by which, the
miracle of our timely recovery and ultimate victory was performed.
"To our general unpreparedness," writes Sir Douglas Haig, "must be
attributed the loss of many thousands of brave men whose sacrifice
we deeply deplore, while we regard their splendid gallantry and
self-devotion with unstinted admiration and gratitude."
This then was the cost, "the loss of many thousands of brave men," this
the price in blood, the sacrifice upon the altar of unpreparedness.
"Can the lesson," despairingly asks the writer of a leading article
in the _Times_ of April 11, 1919, "of this great soldier's remarks
be missed by the most reckless of politicians, or the most fanatical
of 'pacifists'?" Can it be missed either, it may be asked, by those
congregations of the faithful, who, repeating as of yore the old, old
cry "Give peace," resemble rather the ostrich that buries its head in
the sand, making no active endeavour to combat the approaching storm?
Incredible that the lesson should be missed by any, and having marked
the undying tribute which Sir Douglas Haig has paid to those thousands
of brave men who for us paid the price, we may turn to that other
tribute which this same great soldier unhesitatingly pays to those who
supplied the means by which, miraculously enough, recovery was assured,
and ultimate victory achieved.
"The Army owes a great debt to science and to the distinguished
scientific men who placed their learning and their skill at the
disposal of their country." Such is the praise bestowed upon the
distinguished heads of industry and of science as representing
the vast mass of workers at the back, the backbone of the country,
and undoubtedly, as the great Field-Marshal goes on to explain, "a
remarkable feature of the present war has been the number and variety
of mechanical contrivances to which it has given birth, or has brought
to a higher state of perfection." But perhaps the most remarkable of
all these remarkable features was that particular one evinced by that
particular body of distinguished scientific men, to wit, the chief
mechanical engineers of the great railway companies, in that, by their
ingenuity and versatile ability, they succeeded in producing not the
quantities only, but the varieties also, of all those mechanical
contrivances which, as we know, added to the horrors of, as well as to
the interest in, modern warfare.
But just as is the case with a railway engine, of which the whole forms
so commonplace, if majestic, a feature of everyday affairs that seldom,
if ever, does one pause to consider the mass of detail and intricate
parts which go to compose it, so, too, is it the case with a gun, an
aeroplane, a ship, a road motor vehicle, or whatever other equally
familiar object that chances to catch the eye. Little does one realise
the extent of the detail requisite for the framing of each and every
such mechanical contrivance in its entirety. It was, nevertheless,
"the dauntless spirit of the people at home," as Sir Douglas Haig
openly avows, which "strengthened and sustained the invincible spirit
of the Army, the while their incessant toil on land and sea, in the
mine, factory, and shipyard, placed in our hands the means with which
to fight." Nowhere was this "dauntless spirit," the record of this
"incessant toil," better exemplified than by the staff and employés
of the London and North-Western Railway Company's Locomotive Works at
Crewe, that great "factory" in which were manufactured those countless
component parts essential to the whole: and without which the gun could
not be fired, the aeroplane could not soar, the ship could not swim:
without which, in short, the miracle of our recovery and ultimate
victory could not have been performed.
Let us take first the question of gun power; and we cannot do better
than digest the further comments of Sir Douglas Haig. He says:--"The
growth of our artillery was even more remarkable (than other remarkable
developments alluded to in his Despatch), its numbers and power
increasing out of all proportion to the experience of previous wars.
The 476 pieces of artillery with which we took the field in August,
1914, were represented at the date of the Armistice by 6437 guns and
howitzers of all natures." In order to stimulate this remarkable growth
of artillery Crewe concentrated her endeavours upon 8-inch, 4·5-inch,
and 6-inch howitzer guns; upon 12-pounder quick-firing guns, and in
due course upon high-angle anti-aircraft guns. In conjunction with
the guns themselves gun-carriages, carriage-limbers, wagon-limbers,
ammunition-bodies--all were required with feverish haste. "Kultur,"
as has been pithily observed, "was working overtime to crush
Civilisation;" Crewe Works responded by working twenty-four hours out
of the twenty-four to beat the Hun; the spirit was indeed "dauntless,"
the toil "incessant."
And what, it may be asked, were the countless component parts
essential, not only to the manufacture of these "attributes of war's
glorious art" when entirely new, but which were further turned out in
their tens, twenties, fifties, hundreds, nay, even in their thousands,
as "pièces de rechange," spares, all made to standard sizes and gauges,
ready to replace at a moment's notice existing parts worn out or
damaged in the field? Here, in motley assembly, are just a few: arcs,
axles, bands, bearings, chains, collars, connectors, crank-levers,
eyes, forks, futchels, guards, gussets, handles, hooks, keys, levers,
loops, plates, rings, rods, sockets, springs, stays, trails, trunnions,
tumblers, with a vast array of variously assorted bolts, nuts, pins,
screws, studs and washers, one and all claiming the combined skill and
energy of an army of smiths, forgemen, boiler-makers, fitters, turners,
and machinists.
Yet in spite of the "incessant toil" requisite for the supply of this
military material, such was the extent of our unpreparedness that "it
was not until the summer of 1916," as we read in Sir Douglas Haig's
Despatch, "that the artillery situation (as regards material) became
even approximately adequate to the conduct of major operations....
During the battles of 1917 ... the gun situation was a source of
constant anxiety. Only in 1918 was it possible to conduct artillery
operations independently of any limiting consideration other than that
of transport."
Once, however, the material was assured in sufficient quantity there
was never any looking back, and "from the commencement of our offensive
in August, 1918, to the conclusion of the Armistice, some 700,000
tons of artillery ammunition (equal to the weight approximately of
6,000 heavy express passenger engines) were expended by the British
Armies on the Western Front," this prodigious expenditure of metal
fully amplifying the opinion expressed by Napoleon, that "it is with
artillery that one makes war."
Before finally laying aside the question of guns, and turning our
attention elsewhere, a few reflections on that popular little weapon
known as the high-angle anti-aircraft gun may be not altogether lacking
in interest, more especially in view of the fact that the price of our
unpreparedness in this as in other respects was destined to be counted
in the number of lives sacrificed, of which the civilian proportion was
invariably very high.
The gentle art of dropping bombs upon open towns was commenced by
German airmen in the very early days of the war, and the French
capital, perhaps not unnaturally, soon became an object of their
attentions.
Under the heading "German aeroplanes over Paris," the _Times'_
correspondent writing from Paris on September 2nd, 1914, records,
perhaps, the first air-raid of the war, although at the moment "no bomb
is reported to have been dropped." How irrepressible is the innate
and inimitable _gaité_ of Parisien and Parisienne alike, even during
the excruciating uncertainty of a raid, is delightfully brought out
in the remark so typically French, "Comme il est dangereux de sortir
sans parapluie." In this connection, too, one recalls the little ruse,
pre-arranged between host and butler, for speeding the departure of
guests, inclined to outstay their after-dinner welcome: "Messieurs,
mesdames," announces the butler, suddenly appearing at the salon door,
"on vient de signaler les Zeppelins."
In comparison with our own, the measures adopted by the French
authorities for defence against enemy aircraft were, from the outset,
on a considerable scale; in fact, prior to the time when Admiral Sir
Percy Scott took over the defence of London, in September, 1915,
there had been, to all intents and purposes, no defence at all; any
impartial observer might even have inferred that we were doing our
best to live up to the lofty notions of the writer in the _Manchester
Guardian_ of August 19th, 1915, who laconically decreed that we had "it
in our power to turn every air-raid into a failure, simply by taking
as little notice of it as possible." Whether this superior personage
remained for the duration of the war so providentially privileged as
to be able to take no notice of the air-raids that took place, history
does not narrate. Suffice it to say that if we select at random two
typical instances from the many which occurred--one on May 25th, 1917,
at Folkestone, when 76 persons were killed and 174 were injured; the
other on June 13th, 1917, in London, resulting in 157 deaths and 432
persons injured, without mentioning the amount of material damage
effected--it is open to argument whether the public in general, and
particularly those who were personally and in so tragic a fashion
affected, were capable, even if they felt so disposed, of taking little
or no notice of these attacks; it is also a moot point whether they
or the perpetrators of these outrages regarded this particular form
of "frightfulness" in the light of a failure, when attended by such
undeniably telling results.
Happily the boot was not always on the same foot, for, as we know,
the marauders on occasion paid the supreme penalty themselves in the
course of their aerial outings, and this, thanks in great measure to
the determined energy of the gallant admiral, to wit Sir Percy Scott,
who, far from taking no notice of air-raids, lost no time in organising
a vigorous system of defence against them.
But as he tells us in his reminiscences, "Fifty Years in the Royal
Navy," from the very outset of his endeavours he was hopelessly
handicapped; for, whereas "General Gallieni, who was in charge of the
defence of Paris, had for the protection of his forty-nine square miles
of city two hundred and fifteen guns, and was gradually increasing this
number to three hundred; whereas, too, he had plenty of men trained in
night flying, and well-lighted aerodromes, he (Sir Percy Scott) had
eight guns to defend our seven hundred square miles of the metropolitan
area, no trained airmen, and no lighted-up aerodromes."
The amazing part of the whole business was, as Sir Percy Scott
explains, and not without a touch of humour, the "War Office was as
certain that a Zeppelin could not come to London as the Admiralty was
that a submarine could not sink a ship"; hence the corollary that
"London's defence was a kind of 'extra turn.'"
Nothing daunted, however, and fully determined that London should be
made to wake up to the dangers she was running, he succeeded in spite
of all difficulties, and after procuring suitable ammunition, in
increasing the number of his guns from the initial eight to one hundred
and twelve.
Herein it was that the locomotive shops at Crewe were once again called
into requisition, for, as Sir Percy Scott tells us, "unfortunately
mountings had to be made for these (guns)," mountings such as base
rings, pedestals, pedestal pivots, as well as elevating arcs, sighting
arms, etc., the manufacture of which necessarily "took a considerable
time," but which were successfully evolved with a minimum of delay at
Crewe.
Then again, "the few guns we had for the defence of London were mounted
permanently in positions probably as well known to the Germans as to
ourselves. We had no efficient guns mounted on mobile carriages which
could be moved about and brought into action where necessary."
Being anxious to secure from the French authorities the loan, as a
model, of one of their 75-millimetre guns, which as he knew were
mounted on motor lorries, and in order to circumvent "Admiralty
red-tape methods," Sir Percy Scott promptly took the law into his own
hands, and very quickly obtained what he wanted. Owing, however, to the
impracticability of adapting the British 3-inch gun to the French lorry
mounting, a new design was got out, the gun platform being mounted on
a single pair of wheels, which, with the axle, was detachable when the
gun came into action, and of which component parts, such as plates,
pivots, blocks, covers, catches, limber connections, were forthcoming
from Crewe.
Thanks once again to the courtesy of General Gallieni, who agreed to
supply "thirty-four of the famous French 75-millimetre guns and twenty
thousand shells with fuses complete," Sir Percy Scott finally had at
his disposal a total of one hundred and fifty-two guns, which, although
admittedly "rather a mixed lot," combined to frustrate the designs of
those "airy devils" which so frequently were wont to--
"hover in the sky and pour down mischief."
As time went on, however, and when, notwithstanding the constant
alertness of our gunners and the shoals of "archies" spat heavenwards
in search of these enemy marauders, the persistency of the latter
showed little if any sign of abatement, the idea of retaliation, or
the practice of paying the enemy back in his own coin, was mooted as
likely to prove the most effective method of clipping his wings, and
in spite of protests from that misguided section of the community,
aptly designated the "don't-hurt-poor-Germany-brigade," the clamour
for retaliation, emanating from an already-too-long-suffering public
became so insistent that orders were at length placed for a supply of
that special form of "mischief," or medicine, known as aerial bombs, in
the manufacture of which, both petrol-incendiary and high-explosive,
Crewe Works was requested to assist, and which our gallant airmen were
commissioned to "pour down" on fortified positions on the further side
of the Hindenburg Line.
How efficacious were deemed to be the ingredients of this medicine
may be gathered from the fact that in the autumn of 1917 the chief
mechanical engineers of the great railway companies assembled in
conclave at the request of the Air Board, and expressed their
willingness to co-operate in the manufacture of aeroplanes of the
bombing order. Owing, however, to the special conditions applying to
the aeroplane industry, and to the fact that those responsible for the
administration of our Air-policy decided, after mature consideration,
that the scope for producing these machines was actually sufficient
for dealing with every emergency, this additional strain was not
imposed on the already heavily taxed capacity of the various locomotive
workshops after all. Crewe, nevertheless, was not to be gainsaid the
privilege of undertaking at least some share in the production of our
heavier-than-air machines, and in the tinsmiths' and fitting shops
respectively were turned out hundreds of tiny metal pressings or discs,
and knuckle joints, essential for the piecing together of the wood
fuselage, and on the quality of which depended so largely the lives of
our pilots, to whose intrepid instinct undoubtedly "one crowded hour
of glorious life" seemed at all times "worth an age without a name,"
but who nevertheless had no particular wish to come to grief owing to
faulty material. The airman in common with the traveller--
"Cheerful at morn, wakes from short repose,
Breasts the keen air, and carols as he goes;"
but unlike the latter, who moves in comparative safety on terra firma,
the former, throughout the length of his flying hours, literally
carried his life in his hands, illustrative of which fact may be taken
those vivid and realistic sketches penned by Major W. B. Bishop, V.C.,
who, in his little volume "Winged Warfare," jots down a few impressions
of his own breathless experiences. "In the air," for instance, he says,
"one did not altogether feel the human side of it. It was not like
killing a man so much as just bringing down a bird;" and yet in diving
after an enemy machine, "I had forgotten caution and everything else
in my wild and overwhelming desire to destroy this thing that for the
time being represented all Germany to me." Undeniably the heart of an
airman must be "a free and a fetterless thing" to brave the combination
of risks incidental to his magnetic calling, and Sir Douglas Haig
has not omitted to refer in brief but glowing terms to the "splendid
traditions of the British Air Service," the "development of which is a
matter of general knowledge," and the combining of whose "operations
with those of other arms ... has been the subject of constant study
and experiment, giving results of the very highest value." In every
direction "much thought had to be bestowed upon determining how new
devices could be combined in the best manner with the machinery already
working," and in laying stress upon this question of "effective
co-operation of the different arms and services," he alludes, for
instance, to "increase in the power and range of artillery," which
"made the maintenance of communications constantly more difficult." It
was in order to assist in the maintenance of a highly efficient system
of communications that Crewe was asked to supply quantities of cart
cable-drums, the several parts of which required forging, machining,
and accurately fitting, and by means of which, when completed as a
whole, wires could be run out at a speed of 100 yards per minute; in
fact, as Sir Douglas Haig points out, "something of the extent of
the constructional work required, in particular to meet the constant
changes of the battle-line and the movement of head-quarters, can be
gathered from the fact that as many as 6500 miles of cable-wire have
been issued in a single week. The average weekly issue of such cable
for the whole of 1918 was approximately 3300 miles."
Summing up his observations on mechanical contrivances in general, Sir
Douglas Haig urges that "immense as the influence of these may be,
they cannot by themselves decide a campaign. Their true _rôle_ is that
of assisting the infantryman, which they have done in a most admirable
manner. They cannot replace him. Only by the rifle and bayonet of the
infantryman can the decisive victory be won."
But surely the rifle itself, it may pardonably be contended, is nothing
if not a mechanical contrivance? Granted always that without the
pressure of the infantryman's finger on the trigger, the thrust of his
arm behind the bayonet, the rifle is incapable of deciding a campaign,
equally self-evident is the fact that the infantryman is helpless to
win the decisive victory without the aid of the rifle.
Side by side, too, with the rifle, and yet another mechanical
contrivance to receive "a mention," is the machine-gun, of which the
"immense influence" as an injunct indispensable to the infantryman may
be gauged from the statement that "from a proportion of one gun to
approximately 500 infantrymen in 1914, our establishment of machine
guns and Lewis guns had risen at the end of 1918 to one machine gun
or Lewis gun to approximately 20 infantrymen." It was in order to
bring about this enormous increase in the number of machine guns, that
millwrights were sent from Crewe in the summer of 1915 at the urgent
request of Mr. Lloyd George (then Minister of Munitions) to install
in some newly erected works in Birmingham the machinery necessary for
their manufacture. Crewe may therefore be permitted to claim a certain
degree of credit for the final issue; for, in addition to furthering
the output of Lewis guns which, as we know, assisted the infantryman
in so admirable a manner, she was also responsible for the various
extremely delicate gauges necessary for the manufacture of rifles,
which in turn enabled the infantryman to win the decisive victory.
Invaluable as mechanical contrivances have been in giving "a greater
driving power to war," their sinister aspect cannot in any way be
veiled; for, as has been only too apparent, "the greater strength of
modern field defences, and the power and precision of modern weapons,
the multiplication of machine guns, trench-mortars, and artillery of
all natures, the employment of gas, and the rapid development of the
aeroplane as a formidable agent of destruction against both men and
material, all combined to increase the price to be paid for victory."
Sir Douglas Haig estimates the total number of British casualties "in
all theatres of war, killed, wounded, missing and prisoners, including
native troops, as being approximately three millions (3,076,388)."
The killed, as Napoleon has said, "are the only loss that can never
be replaced." The missing--one invariably shudders when considering
what may have been their fate. Significant, for instance, is the
reproduction of a letter from an enemy officer who writes--(cp. the
_Times_, April 11th, 1917)--"I have been entrusted with a task of which
every good German should be proud. Eight days ago we left France with
400 British.... On arriving at Frankfurt we discovered that we had
lost on the journey 380." As to the lot of those who, taken prisoner,
were nevertheless permitted to exist, we have only to refer for
enlightenment to the report of the Government Committee on Wittenberg
Camp, dated April 6th, 1916. Two extracts only may be allowed to
suffice. "The state of the prisoners beggars description. Major
Priestley (one survivor of six sent to replace the German medical staff
who abandoned the camp on the outbreak of typhus) found them gaunt,
of a peculiar grey pallor, and verminous. Their condition, in his own
words, was deplorable." Ultimately the Committee were "forced to the
conclusion that the terrible sufferings and privations of the afflicted
prisoners during the period under review are directly chargeable to the
deliberate cruelty and neglect of the German officials."
[Illustration: VARIOUS TYPES OF ARTIFICIAL LIMBS. [_To face p. 68._]
Of the wounded, those who merit the largest share of commiseration are
undoubtedly the blind. But whatever the nature of the misfortune of
those afflicted, "in spite of the large numbers dealt with, there has
been," as Sir Douglas Haig reminds us, "no war in which the resources
of science have been utilised so generously and successfully for the
prevention of disease, or for the quick evacuation and careful tending
of the sick and wounded."
The experience acquired, over a period of 35 years in the joiners'
shop at Crewe Works, in the manufacture of artificial limbs, for the
use of the Company's own employés crippled as a result of accidents
sustained in the performance of their duties, was destined to become a
national asset of inestimable value during the war; models of the most
approved design being demonstrated to the War Office authorities, and
subsequently adopted for the use and benefit of men crippled in the
service of their country.
In the years preceding the war, while the common enemy was busily
engaged in sharpening the sword and toasting _Der Tag_, amongst the
few so-called cranks who, even as voices crying in the wilderness,
ventured to dispatiate upon self-defence, defence of country, invasion,
and other similar bogies in the cupboard, one may recall the theory of
"one of the most distinguished of that younger school of sea-officers
who kept urging in and out of season that we must get out of the idea
that naval defence is one thing and army defence another; for when
war comes, success will depend upon their perfect co-ordination and
co-operation."
If in only a minor degree--for those who go down to the sea in ships
are necessarily many in number, and the business which they do in great
waters is of an extremely varied nature--Crewe was nevertheless called
upon to put this theory into practice in the land and sea war that
burst upon us in 1914; and one of the mechanical contrivances which
was destined to play an inordinately important part in securing this
"perfect co-ordination and co-operation" as between the land and sea
forces of the country, and for various essential component parts of
which Crewe became responsible, was the "Paravane;" and the paravane,
being by nature something entirely novel, was _ipso facto_ one of those
devices which had to fight the War Office, or the Admiralty, as the
case might be, before it got a chance of fighting the enemy.
Primarily devised for the purpose of subverting the submarine peril,
the paravane (the invention of Acting-Commander Burney) was later
adapted for the protection of vessels against mines. An extremely
interesting and lucid account of this mechanical contrivance, from the
pen of Mr. R. F. McKay, is to be found in _Engineering_, under date of
September 19th, 1919.
[Illustration: THE PROTECTOR, OR MINE-SWEEPING, PARAVANE. [_To face p.
70._]
Mr. McKay tells us that there were various types of paravanes, known
respectively as the explosive, the protector, and the mine-sweeping
paravane.
Briefly, the device was a torpedo-shaped body, which, towed by a
suitable cable either from the bows or stern of a ship, maintained
its equilibrium in the water by means of a large steel plane near
its head, and horizontal and vertical fins near its tail, the thrust
of the water on the plane when the vessel is in motion carrying the
paravane away from the fore and aft centre line of the vessel. Depth
mechanism was fitted in the tail of the paravane, and consisted of a
horizontal rudder actuated by a hydrostatic valve, _i.e._ a valve which
is operated by difference in water pressure due to any change in depth.
The explosive paravane was towed from the stern, and the charge of
T.N.T. which it contained could be detonated either by impact, or by an
excessive load coming on to the cable, or by a current of electricity
controlled from the ship.
The protector or mine-sweeping paravanes were similar contrivances in
that they were towed, and maintained their position in the water by
similar means. They were, however, towed from the bows of the ship,
and instead of carrying an explosive charge, they were fitted with a
bracket resembling a pair of jaws, in which were fixed two saw-edged
steel blades; and it was in the manufacture of these brackets, which
were forged under the drop-hammer, that Crewe was engaged.
"Two paravanes," as Mr. McKay explains, "are towed, one on either side
of the vessel, ... and the action of the protector-gear is simple. The
paravane towing-wires foul the mooring-wire of any mine which might
strike the vessel, but misses any mine which is too deeply anchored.
The speed of the vessel causes the mine and its sinker to be deflected
down the 'wedge' and away from the vessel until the mine mooring-wire
reaches the paravane," which wire "passing into the cutter-jaws is
speedily severed; the sinker drops to the bottom of the sea, whilst the
mine floats to the surface well clear of the ship, where it can be seen
and destroyed by rifle fire."
The jerky sawing action of the mine mooring-cable, on reaching the
jaws of the paravane, was, perforce, extremely detrimental to the teeth
of the cutter-blades; consequently it was invariably the practice to
haul the paravane aboard the ship and examine the blades immediately
after a mine had been trapped and destroyed. The peril of pottering
about, unprotected, in a mine-field must be patent to all, particularly
to those who happen to be doing the pottering; hence it was absolutely
essential that brackets and blades should be so accurately machined
and fitted that the latter, on being removed, could be replaced in an
instant by "spares" and the paravane dropped straight back into the sea.
Speaking in the House of Commons (cp. the _Times_, March 21st, 1918),
Sir Eric Geddes, then First Lord of the Admiralty, said that for the
twelve months of unrestricted warfare from February 1st, 1917, to
January 31st, 1918, the actual figures of vessels sunk by submarine
action, including those damaged and ultimately abandoned, amounted
to roughly six million tons; that the (then) total world's shipping
tonnage (exclusive of enemy ships) was forty-two millions; and that the
percentage of net loss to British tonnage was 20 per cent.
Mr. McKay, too, in his article previously quoted, gives some
interesting figures which tend to recall the gloomy days of rationing
cards, and help us to realise how deeply we are indebted to Commander
Burney and his paravanes for assuring us to the bitter end our daily,
if slightly curtailed, means of subsistence. "It is computed," writes
Mr. McKay, "that the total loss in shipping due to submarine warfare
is about £1,000,000,000. Hence, working on the certainties, each
submarine destroyed was responsible for about £5,000,000 worth of
damage. Accepting this figure as a basis, it may be said that the
explosive paravanes saved further damage being inflicted on our
shipping to the extent of about £25,000,000." Reverting next to the
protector paravane, "there were," we are told, "about 180 British
warships fitted with the installation. Assuming that the value of
warship tonnage is placed at the very low average figure of £100 per
ton, the value of the ships saved was above £50,000,000;" and a further
point which cannot be ignored is that undoubtedly "the moral effect of
the loss of these vessels would have been stupendous."
Again, in regard to merchant ships, "if the ratio
mines cut
------------
ships fitted
for these were only one quarter the ratio for warships, the saving to
the nation would be about £100,000,000 sterling's worth of merchant
ships and cargoes." Finally, "from all the records available, the
Allied countries are indebted to the paravane invention for saving
ships and cargoes to the value of approximately £200,000,000. In
addition, the number of lives saved must be a very large figure."
Few and far between are the prophets who have any honour in their own
country, and Admiral Sir Percy Scott proved no exception to the rule
when, prior to the war (cp. the _Times_, June 5th, 1914), he wrote
that "the introduction of vessels that swim under the water has, in my
opinion, entirely done away with the utility of the ships that swim on
the top of the water."
So comprehensive a contention was bound to come as something in the
nature of a shock to those who were accustomed to regard the Royal
Navy of England as "its greatest defence and ornament; its ancient and
natural strength; the floating bulwark of our island," and certainly
the attribute "entirely" must be considered as being of rather too
sweeping a nature, for, serious though the submarine menace became
during the world-war, the under-sea boat cannot claim to have swept
the face of the waters of anything approaching the total number of
ships that swam on the top. There is no doubt, however, but that, not
only from the German point of view, but from our own as well, the
submarine became an adjunct of the very first importance, and herein,
again, was the all-round practical ability of Crewe Works called upon
to assist. Bearings for submarine propeller-shafts (commonly known
as reaper-bearings) were urgently required, each shaft working in no
fewer than sixteen bearings, of which the caps were to be made not only
interchangeable, but reversible as well, so exacting were the demands
in the Admiralty specification.
Indisputably Crewe was "doing her bit," and by their "dauntless
spirit," by their "incessant toil," did the mass of employés engaged
within the Works enable Mr. Cooke to convince the world at large that
England, no longer "la Perfide Albion," was worthy rather to be named
"la Loyale Angleterre."