CHAPTER IX

THE ART OF DROP-FORGING

"Who made the law that men should die in meadows,

Who spake the word that blood should splash in lanes,

Who gave it forth that gardens should be boneyards,

Who spread the hills with flesh and blood and brains?

Who made the law?"

Seldom, perhaps, does a plain question receive so plain an answer as

that coming direct from so qualified an authority as Prince Lichnowsky,

former German Ambassador to the Court of St. James, who, in the course

of his confessions, which he entitles "My Mission to London," says,

simply and quite candidly, "We insisted on war." Herr Harden, too,

writing in _Die Zukunft_ in November, 1914, even if a trifle more

impetuous, more brutal, is none the less frankly outspoken: "Let

us drop," he protests, "our miserable attempts to excuse Germany's

action.... Not against our will, nor as a nation taken by surprise, did

we hurl ourselves into this gigantic venture. We willed it ... it is

Germany that strikes."

And having fixed the blame, the moral responsibility, equally

plain-sailing is it to establish the blood-stained guilt; evidence of

it fairly "stinks" no matter where one turns to look; from emperor to

general, from statesman to author, exudes the _credo_ of Teuton Kultur;

no more lurid interpretation of which can perhaps be found than in

the words of Herr Hartmann, a native of Berlin, who, after serving as

an artillery officer, turned his attention to matters literary, being

_inter alia_ a believer in evolutionary progress. "The enemy country,"

he insists, "should not be spared the devastation, the profound

misery engendered by war. The burden should be and remain crushing.

Immediately war is declared, terrorism becomes a primary essential

absolutely imperative from the military standpoint."

There is, however, all the difference in the world between the

transitive and intransitive senses of a verb, and if we take the verb

to "terrorise" as an apposite example, the transition from the former

sense to the latter, _i.e._ from terrorising to being terrorised, is

apt to be very noticeable, indeed unpleasant. Granted that British and

Boche ideas on the particular subject in no way harmonise, the British

method ultimately of diffusing an unlimited supply of high explosive

over the Boche lines nevertheless had the desired effect of "putting

the fear of God" into the right individuals, at the right time, and

in the right place. One employs the prefix "ultimately" of necessity,

for obviously the diffusion of metal prior to the latter phases of the

war was, except upon certain occasions which were few and far between,

anything but unlimited; it was, in fact, at one particular period of

the war of so limited a nature as to infuse into the mind of the late

Lord Kitchener a fear of stalemate on the Western Front, sufficient

to impel his acquiescence in that diversion, so ardently advocated by

"amateur strategists" but destined to prove nothing but a prodigious

and costly failure, to wit the Dardanelles expedition.

Thanks, however, to the staying powers of the workers, to the

inflexible will to win by which they were animated throughout, the

crushing superiority, early attributable to the enemy, gradually became

less and less apparent; in fact, after hanging for a time evenly in the

balance, the scales indeed tipped the other way, eventually dipping to

such an extent in Entente favour as to become a source, at first of no

little astonishment, then of concern, to the German "Imperial Staff

of Supermen." General Ludendorff in his memoirs ["My War Memories,"

1914-1918, Vols. I. & II., Hutchinson & Co. 39s.] makes no attempt to

conceal his surprise, if not indeed his dismay, at the awkward trend

of events. "Whereas we had hitherto been able to conduct our great war

of defence" (_sic_), so he writes (cp. page 240, Vol. I.), "by that

best means of waging war--the offensive--we were now (by the autumn

of 1916) reduced to a policy of pure defence.... The equipment of

the Entente armies with war material had been carried out on a scale

hitherto unknown"; the boot was plainly on the other leg, for (cp. page

242, Vol. I.) "the Battle of the Somme showed us every day how great

was the advantage of the enemy in this respect." Evidently the one

and only Ludendorff no longer had any doubt in his own mind as to the

"writing on the wall," its lettering was clear, its meaning ominous

and unmistakable; from the German point of view things were going from

bad to worse; "At the beginning of June (1917)," he continues (cp.

pages 428, 429, Vol. II.), "the straightening of this (the Wytschaete)

salient really ushered in the great Flanders battle.... The heights of

Wytschaete and Messines had been the site of active mine warfare," and

ultimately, "The moral effect of the explosions was simply staggering."

Again in August of the same year (cp. page 480, Vol. II.), "In spite

of all the concrete protection, they (the Germans) seemed more or

less powerless under the enormous weight of the enemy's artillery,"

and "With the opening of the fifth act of the great drama in Flanders

on the 22nd October (cp. page 491, Vol. II.) enormous masses of

ammunition, such as the human mind had never imagined before the war,

were hurled upon the bodies of men who passed a miserable existence

scattered about in mud-filled shell-holes. The horror of the shell-hole

area of Verdun was surpassed. It was no longer life at all. It was mere

unspeakable suffering. And through this world of mud the attackers

dragged themselves, slowly, but steadily, and in dense masses.... Rifle

and machine-gun jammed with mud. Man fought against man, and only too

often the mass was successful." The long and the short of it, in a

word, amounted just to this, the Hun had "insisted on war," and now he

was "getting it in the neck."

Napoleon is credited with the opinion that "Good infantry is beyond

question the soul of an army, but"--and no doubt it is a big "but,"

as will be seen from the way in which he goes on to qualify his

opinion--"but if it has to fight any considerable time against a very

superior artillery, it becomes demoralised and is destroyed." In

order to determine how completely has been justified this view in the

light of modern warfare, one has but to turn again for the space of

a brief instant to the memoirs of Ludendorff--Ludendorff who "lived

only for the war," whose life had been one of work for his "Country,

the Emperor, and the Army,"--the note of bitter chagrin cannot be

mistaken. "Against the weight of the enemy's material" (cp. page 542,

Vol. II.) "the troops no longer displayed their old stubbornness of

defence; they thought with horror of fresh defensive battles."

Such in effect, then, was the net result obtained by an intense

application by the Entente Armies of "a very superior artillery,"

rendered possible by the untiring efforts of the workers, by the plant

at their disposal, and by the brains which created and controlled.

There can be no parallel in the whole history of international warfare

to compare even approximately with the abnormally severe conditions

imposed upon pieces of artillery during the present-day conflict,

conditions which perforce had a considerable bearing not only on the

design of integral parts, but also on the nature of the material

employed in the manufacture of those parts.

One of the most remarkable features in this latter respect was the

frequent necessity to substitute a steel forging where a casting

had previously been considered "the last word," and if we take as a

convenient and typical example so ordinary and obvious a part as is

the trunnion bracket of a howitzer gun, this will afford a very good

idea of the difficulties which present themselves when in compliance

with Government specifications recourse must needs be had to the

hammer as opposed to the mould, difficulties, in fact, which could

only be overcome by the employment of what is commonly known as the

drop-hammer.

If proof positive were ever needed in support of the argument that

bread may be found again which has been cast upon the waters, not

merely many days previously, but weeks, months, and years, the

money sunk by the London and North-Western Railway Company in their

drop-hammer plant at Crewe affords the proof; for, thanks to the

existence of this plant, thanks too to the invaluable experience gained

during the years following upon its installation, not only were the

staff engaged in operating the hammers able, figuratively speaking

to forge right ahead, literally speaking to commence drop-forging,

directly they were required to do so, those sorely needed "sinews

of war" which a pre-war generation of feeble-gutted politicians had

neglected to provide against the evil day of reckoning, but Mr. Cooke

found himself in the unique position of being able to undertake

forgings which were admittedly altogether beyond the scope of firms

whose speciality was none other than that of drop-forging, and of which

the Directors of Army Ordnance were well-nigh at their wits' end to

secure an adequate, if indeed any, supply at all.

[Illustration: LIMBER HOOKS: ILLUSTRATING DUPLEX METHOD OF DROP

FORGING.]

[Illustration: TRUNNION BRACKETS FOR 6-INCH HOWITZER GUN, DROP FORGING.

[_To face p. 145._]

Significant, and sufficiently expressive of appreciation, if not of

actual open-mouthed astonishment, is the following letter received by

Mr. Cooke from a well-known Government Department: "I have to thank you

and your staff on behalf of the Ministry of Munitions for the excellent

work you have done in producing stampings of trunnion brackets. The

part in question has hitherto been considered almost impossible to

produce as a stamping, and the work you have now produced will add

materially to the efficiency of this important equipment. I should be

glad if this letter could be brought to the notice of your subordinate

staff who carried out the work." From the same source, but at a

later date, came this further little note of esteem: "Your previous

production of the trunnion bracket has been the means of great saving

to the State, and it is with great satisfaction that I am able to again

congratulate your operating staff on a renewed success in your stamping

department."

For the benefit of those uninitiated in the fascinating art of

drop-stamping or forging, it may not be considered superfluous if a

brief explanation is given of the principles embodied in the system,

and for this purpose one cannot do better than read and inwardly digest

the opinion which has been advanced by Mr. Brett, founder of the Brett

Patent Lifter Company of Coventry and inventor and patentee of the

hammer in question.[8] "Having in mind," he says, "that the plastic or

forgeable condition of wrought-iron or steel, when obtained, cannot be

retained beyond limited periods, especially in the case of articles

having thin or light parts, when its duration is very brief," it rests

with the engineer "to provide for the forger a suitable form of power

for actuating the dies or tools by means of which properly-formed

forgings may be obtained." Further, "this power must be capable

of instantaneous application," similar in all essentials to that

produced by the smith "with hand hammer or sledge; that is to say, a

perfectly elastic blow of sufficient force to produce an immediate and

substantial effect upon the material."

[8] [Extract from Paper read by Mr. Brett before the Engineering

Conference of the Institution of Civil Engineers, June, 1899, and

published in _Engineering_, June 30th, 1899.]

The secret of providing this particular form of power lies obviously in

the Brett drop-hammer, and in it alone, and the method evolved consists

in the raising of the hammer-head or "tup" between a pair of parallel

and vertical guides to a certain height by pressure of steam exerted

within an overhead cylinder; no sooner is this pressure shut off than

the "tup" automatically descends by force of gravity, delivering

the hammer-blow simply with the weight of its falling mass, and

rebounding, is lifted once again by re-admission of the steam into the

cylinder, preparatory to the next descent and the delivery of a further

succession of blows. It is largely thanks to a flexible cord and strap

connection between the "tup" and the piston and piston-arm working in

the overhead cylinder that the blow delivered is not only "smashing"

in effect, but altogether resilient, in direct contrast to that of a

steam-hammer, the blow of which is more in the nature of a dull thud or

a rigid push.

It is obvious, as Mr. Brett goes on to point out, that "the vibrations

from blows of sufficient power and elasticity (or sharpness) to cause

metal at a moderate heat to flow completely into the impressions of

the dies," _i.e._ the blocks in which are cut the impression of the

required forging, "and to make clean work, are calculated to destroy

any rigidly built machine." Hence the fact, which a cursory glance at

the hammers cannot fail to establish, that nothing has been overlooked

or omitted in regard to detail in design, "not any of the parts

affected by the work are bolted together or in any wise rigidly fixed;

the guides are held and the dies set in position by flexible means,

_i.e._ the lower end of each guide fits into a recess into the base

block, the top end passes up into a socket having sufficient clearance

for wood packing, the wood is intended to absorb the vibrations which

pass up the guide-rod."

The plant at Crewe as originally installed in 1899, by the late Mr.

F. W. Webb, of "compound" fame, consisted merely of one "battery"

of hammers, comprising two 7-cwt. stamping hammers, and one 5-cwt.

"dummying" or roughing-out hammer, and although the production of small

stampings for signal apparatus etc., was all that was attempted in

those early days, little by little the variety of work became extended,

embracing, ere long, locomotive parts of small dimensions such as

brake-rod ends, joints, levers, handles, etc., with the result that

as time went on and as ever-increasing experience with confidence

proportionate accrued to the staff employed, jobs of still greater

variety were successfully tackled.

[Illustration: THE 4-TON DROP HAMMER. [_To face p. 148._]

There are at the present time no fewer than eight "batteries" of

hammers "in action" at Crewe, the actual number of hammers being

twenty-two, and some idea of the extent of the progress made may be

gauged by the fact that the yearly tonnage output of stampings rose

from 400 tons in 1902 to 1450 tons in 1917, a time when the plant

was largely devoted to the manufacture of a regular "pot-pourri" of

essential munitions of war.

It was primarily due to the urgent demands of the Ministry of Munitions

for a supply of trunnion brackets, which, cast in steel, were proving

defective, and which had "been considered almost impossible to produce

as stampings," that Mr. Cooke determined on the course of laying down

an additional hammer, having a "tup" weighing no less than four solid

tons.

Complete with gas-producers, stationary boiler, gas reheating furnaces

and cranes, the estimated cost of installation was £15,100. The hammer

foundations necessitated a cavity being dug to a depth of 18 feet,

which was filled in with 321 tons of granite and cement, and upon which

repose the base blocks, cast in steel and weighing a further 58 tons.

This veritable monster commenced operations during the critical days of

the early spring of 1918, and no sooner had the seemingly impossible

been shown to be possible and the successful production of trunnion

brackets had become "the means of great saving to the State," than

there followed in quick succession orders for other and indispensable

gun-mountings, such as front stiffening bands, upper sight brackets,

trunnion-seatings, etc., etc.

"Peace," as we know, "hath her victories no less renowned than war,"

and no sooner was the mantle of munition manufacture laid aside than

efforts were once again concentrated on the production of locomotive

parts, the whole of the Walschaerte valve gear appertaining to Mr.

Cooke's latest express passenger engines, the well-known "Claughton"

class, being now produced under the 4-ton drop-hammer.

Standing in the immediate vicinity of the hammers ranged in convenient

positions in regard to gas furnaces, "dummying" hammers, and "finning"

or "trimming" presses, the average and intelligent visitor never

fails to be impressed as he witnesses the operations in process, and

notes the lightning rapidity with which, as if by the magic of a

magician's wand, a bar or billet of gleaming, glistening whiteness

is battered and transformed into some previously determined shape,

curiously contorted, maybe, with corners, elbows, and recesses, ere

the dazzling brilliance dims and fades, paling imperceptibly to lemon

tint and orange hue, till finally the blood-red flush of angry sunset

supervenes, and nothing remains but that the finished stamping should

be trimmed and laid aside, gradually to resume the slate-grey cool of

dawn.

How natural it all seems, how almost childish in simplicity! And yet

on second thoughts, how come these various shapes and forms, these

corners, elbows, and recesses, these well-nigh perfect surfaces,

pure and clean, free from blow-holes, dirt and scale? True, we know

the crashing and resilient hammer blow is there, and then a little

closer acquaintance with, or examination of, the hammer is all that is

necessary, for this will reveal the fact that it is the effect of the

blow on a pair of "dies," one of which is held rigidly in the "tup,"

the other on the base-block, that causes the metal at a moderate heat

to "flow" completely into the impressions which are in the dies, and

which ensure the fashioning of the article required.

To cut an impression in a pair of "dies," to put the "dies" in the

hammer, and to obtain a forging, sounds the simplest thing in the

world. Yet in actual practice, so many are the problems which present

themselves, so diverse are the obstacles to be overcome, that a volume

might be written on the craft of the die-designer, whose efforts

result in work of so great beauty, and whose "dies" must be capable

of withstanding the punishment, and of enduring the wear, which the

crashing blows of the "tup" inflict and are ever striving to induce.

What is the most suitable metal to employ in the manufacture of

the dies? and having found that metal, what is the best process of

hardening? are two of the first questions to be decided. Will the

forgeman bestow every care in the use of his "dies," and will he set

them accurately in the hammer? Much depends on answers being in the

affirmative. Whether to cast the impressions in the die-blocks, or to

machine them out _in toto_, and if machined out how to do so, are

further knotty propositions. Correct taper on the walls of holes,

bosses, and recesses; egress for imprisoned air; size of bar or billet

to be stamped, after making suitable allowance for contraction and

waste; control of waste metal or "fin"; method of duplex stamping. Such

are the more potent problems with which the die-designer is faced, and

whilst lack of insight will assuredly foreshadow failure, ability to

grasp their import cannot fail to spell success. Obviously the mind

of the die-designer must ever be planning, plotting, scheming how

best to make his metal "flow;" and concentrated attention, and study

extending over years, are the only means of approaching that degree of

perfection which in the art of drop-stamping, as in all other branches

of mechanical science, the engineer is ever striving to attain.

Incredible, then, that public money should have been continuously

lavished on that legion of "inexpert experts," more than one of which

worthless clan, gloriously clad in khaki, was known to claim admission

to Crewe Works for the avowed purpose of "satisfying himself" (_sic_)

that the engineers of the London and North-Western Railway locomotive

department were "making the best use of the drop-hammer plant."

Even if we generously assume that these gentlemen were the exception

rather than the rule, such glaring exhibitions of ignorance and

impudence combined could not but tend to bring out in full relief

the anomalies which, although possibly unavoidable, existed none the

less in a system of universal and compulsory service; and with every

apology to the talented soldier poet, author of the initial stanza

introducing this chapter, one may be pardoned if, in conclusion, one

feels constrained to put this further little conundrum:--

"Who made the law that nincompoops and asses

Should 'cushy' jobs, immune from risk, infest,

While other 'blokes,' undaunted--aye in masses,--

Naught asking, bit the dust, and so--'went west'?

Who made the law?"

Deeds of a great railway · 第 9 / 12 章