THE BEDOUINS AT OCHEY AERODROME
If you had visited the Bedouin Squadron at about eleven o'clock in the
morning you would have received quite a shock when entering the
officers' mess. In the first place, you would have found the mess
deserted except for several dogs of unknown species and innumerable
cats,--some proudly nourishing recent offspring, others in various
stages of anticipation of a similar pleasure. Secondly, you would have
been surprised at the comfortable, if not artistic, interior of our
exteriorly unattractive hut. In the centre of the "ward-room" or
sitting-room was an open fireplace of ingenious design. On a stone and
earth base, covered with sheet iron, rested a large cast-iron box with
many peculiarly shaped apertures resembling as far as possible the
incomprehensible design of a lady's lace mouchoir. The fire-box was
supported by four cast-iron "whirly-gigs," the artistic effort of a
mechanic detailed to construct legs for the support of the aforesaid
fire-box. Above this box a large hollow pyramid, the apex of which
connected with a pipe, which in turn after divers wanderings led through
a hole in the roof, offered an exit for the smoke. Needless to say, this
offer was frequently ignored. Around this fireplace was a foot-railing
constructed from the main spar of a crashed Handley-Page. The rest of
the furniture fortunately was not homemade. Large easy-chairs and
lounges, the gift of a friendly merchant of Nancy, often made progress
from one end of the room to the other,--a feat requiring considerable
skill in navigation. A piano was wedged into one corner of the room;
"Sin-fin," a mad Irishman, appeared with this piano one day together
with an exhilarated French officer driving a lorry. No one ever found
out how the piano had been secured, but since a sweet little
"demoiselle" now rides "Sin-fin's" Irish hunters, we may believe, if we
wish, that a rickety piano formed the basis of an international romance.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO OFFICERS' MESS]
The walls of the room were draped with rich damask; as the officers'
steward who produced this incongruous luxury was an ex-convict, no
inquiries were made concerning it.
In the same hut with the ward-room and adjoining it was the mess or
dining-room and beyond this was the "galley" or kitchen. While the
Bedouins were inflicted with a cook who had been in pre-war days an
expert electrician, the kitchen would not have been your most attractive
route to the officers' sleeping-quarters.
Presuming that you left the mess through its more congenial exit, the
ward-room, the next hut you would have come to was the officers'
quarters. There at eleven o'clock in the morning you would have heard a
full symphony rendered by twenty lusty sleepers. "Is this war?" you
might have asked yourself if you did not have in mind that you were
visiting a night-bombing squadron. The officers in this hut had returned
but five or six hours previously from an all-night raid over Germany.
Beyond this hut are the men's quarters which are deserted at this hour.
Across the road is the workshop or repair factory which, under the eye
of "Bill," the engine officer, runs "full blast" from six in the morning
to nine or ten at night. Next to this miniature factory is the armorers'
hut where all the machine guns are overhauled daily, ammunition tested
as regards rims, sunken caps, etc., and every possible precaution taken
to render the guns thoroughly efficient.
Near by are the huge, camouflaged hangars, or buildings containing the
aeroplanes. Here the mechanics are "tuning up" the engines; the riggers
are trueing up the aeroplanes, tightening a flying wire here, loosening
a landing wire there, testing controls; in fact, doing all that
scientific knowledge and care can do to reduce the chance of accident
from mechanical imperfection. And upon these patriotic, scientific
mechanics, working for their country and their ideals and recompensed
from a pecuniary point of view with a shilling or two a day, rested to a
large extent, the lives of the aviators and the success of their various
adventures.
Back of the hangars and near the officers' quarters is the squadron
office. Here are several clerks constantly engaged in recording all the
details relating to the men's pay, their military records, their issues
of clothes, blankets, etc.,--in fact, recording and filing everything
dealing with the squadron's activities.
Next to the squadron office is the large map-room. If a squadron on
active service can be compared to the human body, the map-room is the
brain of the squadron, for here is kept all the information essential to
the aviators. On one wall is a huge map of the whole war zone from the
coast to the Swiss border. On this the front-line trenches are
accurately marked, with their changes made from day to day. On the wall
next to this map and at right angles to it, is a large-scale map of the
entire region over which the squadron operates. On this map are numerous
conventional markings which would have no meaning to the casual
observer.
[Illustration: THE PATRIOTIC, SCIENTIFIC MECHANICS]
In maps of the enemy territory are hundreds of red drawing-pins. These
mark the positions of enemy anti-aircraft batteries. As soon as
information is received of the movement of one of these batteries,
the pin which represents that particular battery is moved to the new
position. Small yellow squares or oblongs with minute black marks
represent the enemy aerodromes and hangars. These conventional signs
correspond accurately to the aerial photographs of these aerodromes.
Small blue crosses represent the position of enemy balloon barrages and
their height. The position of these barrages must be known accurately,
for to run into them is fatal and at night they are very apt to trap the
unwary. Roughly, they are a series of balloons supporting a huge wire
net or cable streamers. The balloons, anchored to the ground and
carrying the nets with them, are sent up to a considerable altitude
about large cities and important industrial centres. They are to the
night aviators what the spider's web is to the fly.
Another conventional sign of this map which is always puzzling to the
uninitiated is a series of small pins with streamers attached. These
streamers are marked with green dots. One streamer will have one green
dot, another two green dots, another three, etc., while others will have
different spaces between the dots. These pins mark the position of what
is called the "Hun green-ball batteries," and these green balls, fired
up to a height of about six thousand feet, direct the Hun aviators to
their respective aerodromes when returning from a night raid.
A better system than this for directing aviators at night has never been
devised, for low clouds or mist cannot obliterate the signal and they
are visible to the aviator for over fifty miles. In fact, this type of
signal was so very excellent that our knowledge of the exact positions
of the various batteries was of great assistance to us in our raids
over Germany.
On our side of the lines this map was marked with conventional signs
similar to those which marked the position of enemy anti-aircraft
batteries, aerodromes, and balloon barrages; but on our side of the
lines there were large areas marked in red to indicate what was called
"prohibited areas"; i.e., areas over which no aeroplane, Allied or
enemy, could fly without being subjected to the fire of our
anti-aircraft batteries.
There were also white drawing-pins, each bearing a letter, placed at
irregular intervals. These located accurately the position of small
lighthouses which are usually about fifteen miles apart and from three
to ten miles back of the front-line trenches; the letter marked on each
drawing-pin designates the letter flashed in Morse code by that
particular lighthouse. This system of signals, used by the British to
direct their night aviators to their aerodromes when returning from a
raid, had but two great faults. In the first place, the signal was
obliterated by low clouds and mist. In the second place, the flash of
the light only carried a few miles even under the best conditions. On
the other hand, the letters which the lighthouses flashed could be
readily changed and consequently were of very little assistance to Hun
aviators.
On the third wall of the map-room are aerial photographs of enemy
aerodromes, railway stations, sidings, etc., and large-scale plans of
German towns and factories.
On the table in the centre of the room are the various instruments by
the aid of which the aviators are enabled to figure out their magnetic
courses. Every afternoon the map-room is crowded with aviators. Here all
the plans for the raid are made, the courses figured and marked on
individual charts, the photographs or plans of targets studied and the
best methods of approaching the target discussed. In the evening the
wind soundings made by the meteorological expert are reported and again
the map-room is crowded with aviators figuring out "drift" and "ground
speed" and making out charts which will facilitate their navigation when
in the air.