Two incidents in the history of aviation stand out with exceptional
prominence. The one is the evolution of the Zeppelin airship--a story
teeming with romance and affording striking and illuminating glimpses
of dogged perseverance, grim determination in the face of repeated
disasters, and the blind courageous faith of the inventor in the
creation of his own brain. The second is the remarkable growth of
Germany's military airship organisation, which has been so rapid and
complete as to enable her to assume supremacy in this field, and that
within the short span of a single decade.
The Zeppelin has always aroused the world's attention, although this
interest has fluctuated. Regarded at first as a wonderful achievement
of genius, afterwards as a freak, then as the ready butt for universal
ridicule, and finally with awe, if not with absolute terror--such in
brief is the history of this craft of the air.
Count von Zeppelin can scarcely be regarded as an ordinary man. He took
up the subject of flight at an age which the majority of individuals
regard as the opportune moment for retirement from activity, and,
knowing nothing about mechanical engineering, he concentrated his
energies upon the study of this science to enable him to master the
difficulties of a mechanical character incidental to the realisation of
his grand idea. His energy and indomitable perseverance are equalled by
his ardent patriotism, because, although the Fatherland discounted his
idea when other Powers were ready to consider it, and indeed made
him tempting offers for the acquisition of his handiwork, he stoutly
declined all such solicitations, declaring that his invention, if such
it may be termed, was for his own country and none other.
Count von Zeppelin developed his line of study and thought for one
reason only. As an old campaigner and a student of military affairs
he realised the shortcomings of the existing methods of scouting
and reconnoitring. He appreciated more than any other man of the day
perhaps, that if the commander-in-chief of an army were provided with
facilities for gazing down upon the scene of operations, and were able
to take advantage of all the information accruing to the man above who
sees all, he would hold a superior position, and be able to dispose
his forces and to arrange his plan of campaign to the most decisive
advantage. In other words, Zeppelin conceived and developed his airship
for one field of application and that alone-military operations.
Although it has achieved certain successes in other directions these
have been subsidiary to the primary intention, and have merely served to
emphasise its military value.
Von Zeppelin was handicapped in his line of thought and investigation
from the very first. He dreamed big things upon a big scale. The
colossal always makes a peculiar and irresistible appeal to the Teutonic
nature. So he contemplated the perfection of a big dirigible, eclipsing
in every respect anything ever attempted or likely to be attempted
by rival countries. Unfortunately, the realisation of the "colossal"
entails an equally colossal financial reserve, and the creator of this
form of airship for years suffered from financial cramp in its worst
manifestation. Probably it was to the benefit of the world at large
that Fortune played him such sorry tricks. It retarded the growth of
German ambitions in one direction very effectively.
As is well known Zeppelin evolved what may be termed an individual line
of thought in connection with his airship activities. He adopted what is
known as the indeformable airship: that is to say the rigid, as opposed
to the semi-rigid and flexible craft. As a result of patient experiment
and continued researches he came to the conclusion that a huge outer
envelope taking the form of a polygonal cylinder with hemispherical
ends, constructed upon substantial lines with a metallic skeleton
encased within an impermeable skin, and charged with a number of smaller
balloon-shaped vessels containing the lifting agent--hydrogen gas--would
fulfil his requirements to the greatest advantage. Model after model was
built upon these lines. Each was subjected to searching tests with the
invariable result attending such work with models. Some fulfilled the
expectations of the inventor, others resolutely declined to illustrate
his reasonings in any direction.
The inevitable happened. When a promising model was completed finally
the inventor learned to his sorrow what every inventor realises in time.
His fortune and the resources of others had been poured down the sink
of experiment. To carry the idea from the model to the practical stage
required more money, and it was not forthcoming. The inventor sought
to enlist the practical sympathy of his country, only to learn that in
Germany, as in other lands, the axiom concerning the prophet, honour,
and country prevails. No exuberant inventor received such a cold douche
from a Government as did Count Zeppelin from the Prussian authorities.
For two years further work was brought practically to a standstill:
nothing could be done unless the sinews of war were forthcoming. His
friends, who had assisted him financially with his models, now concluded
that their aid had been misplaced.
The inventor, though disappointed, was by no means cast down. He clung
tenaciously to his pet scheme and to such effect that in 1896 a German
Engineering Society advanced him some funds to continue his researches.
This support sufficed to keep things going for another two years,
during which time a full-sized vessel was built. The grand idea began
to crystallise rapidly, with the result that when a public company was
formed in 1898, sufficient funds were rendered available to enable the
first craft to be constructed. It aroused considerable attention, as
well it might, seeing that it eclipsed anything which had previously
been attempted in connection with dirigibles. It was no less than 420
feet in length, by 38 feet in diameter, and was fitted with two cars,
each of which carried a sixteen horse-power motor driving independent
propellers rigidly attached to the body of the vessel. The propellers
were both vertical and horizontal, for the purpose of driving the ship
in the two planes--vertical and horizontal respectively.
The vessel was of great scientific interest, owing to the ingenuity of
its design and construction. The metallic skeleton was built up from
aluminium and over this was stretched the fabric of the envelope,
care being observed to reduce skin friction, as well as to achieve
impermeability. But it was the internal arrangement of the gas-lifting
balloons which provoked the greatest concern. The hull was divided
into compartments, each complete in itself, and each containing a small
balloon inflated with hydrogen. It was sub-division as practised in
connection with vessels ploughing the water applied to aerial craft, the
purpose being somewhat the same. As a ship of the seas will keep afloat
so long as a certain number of its subdivisions remain watertight,
so would the Zeppelin keep aloft if a certain number of the gas
compartments retained their charges of hydrogen. There were no fewer
than seventeen of these gas-balloons arranged in a single line within
the envelope. Beneath the hull and extending the full length of
the latter was a passage which not only served as a corridor for
communication between the cars, but also to receive a weight attached
to a cable worked by a winch. By the movement of this weight the bow or
stem of the vessel could be tilted to assist ascent and descent.
The construction of the vessel subsequently proved to be the easiest and
most straightforward part of the whole undertaking. There were other and
more serious problems to be solved. How would such a monster craft come
to earth? How could she be manipulated upon the ground? How could she
be docked? Upon these three points previous experience was silent. One
German inventor who likewise had dreamed big things, and had carried
them into execution, paid for his temerity and ambitions with his life,
while his craft was reduced to a mass of twisted and torn metal. Under
these circumstances Count Zeppelin decided to carry out his flights
over the waters of the Bodensee and to house his craft within a
floating dock. In this manner two uncertain factors might be effectively
subjugated.
Another problem had been ingeniously overcome. The outer envelope
presented an immense surface to the atmosphere, while temperature was
certain to play an uncertain part in the behaviour of the craft. The
question was to reduce to the minimum the radiation of heat and cold to
the bags containing the gas. This end was achieved by leaving a slight
air space between the inflated gas balloons and the inner surface of the
hull.
The first ascent was made on July 2nd, 1900, but was disappointing,
several breakdowns of the mechanism occurring while the vessel was in
mid-air, which rendered it unmanageable, although a short flight was
made which sufficed to show that an independent speed of 13 feet per
second could be attained. The vessel descended and was made fast in her
dock, the descent being effected safely, while manoeuvring into dock was
successful. At least three points about which the inventor had been in
doubt appeared to be solved--his airship could be driven through the air
and could be steered; it could be brought to earth safely; and it could
be docked.
The repairs to the mechanism were carried out and on October 17th and
21st of the same year further flights were made. By this time certain
influential Teuton aeronautical experts who had previously ridiculed
Zeppelin's idea had made a perfect volte-face. They became staunch
admirers of the system, while other meteorological savants participated
in the trials for the express purpose of ascertaining just what the ship
could do. As a result of elaborate trigonometrical calculations it was
ascertained that the airship attained an independent speed of 30 feet
per second, which exceeded anything previously achieved. The craft
proved to be perfectly manageable in the air, and answered her helm,
thus complying with the terms of dirigibility. The creator was flushed
with his triumph, but at the same time was doomed to experience
misfortune. In its descent the airship came to "earth" with such a shock
that it was extensively damaged. The cost of repairing the vessel was
so heavy that the company declined to shoulder the liability, and as the
Count was unable to defray the expense the wreck was abandoned.
Although a certain meed of success had been achieved the outlook seemed
very black for the inventor. No one had any faith in his idea. He made
imploring appeals for further money, embarked upon lecturing campaigns,
wrote aviation articles for the Press, and canvassed possible supporters
in the effort to raise funds for his next enterprise. Two years passed,
but the fruits of the propaganda were meagre. It was at this juncture,
when everything appeared to be impossible, that Count Zeppelin
discovered his greatest friend. The German Emperor, with an eye ever
fixed upon new developments, had followed Zeppelin's uphill struggle,
and at last, in 1902, came to his aid by writing a letter which ran:--
"Since your varied flights have been reported to me it is a great
pleasure to me to express my acknowledgment of your patience and your
labours, and the endurance with which you have pressed on through
manifold hindrances till success was near. The advantages of your system
have given your ship the greatest attainable speed and dirigibility, and
the important results you have obtained have produced an epoch-making
step forward in the construction of airships and leave laid down a
valuable basis for future experiments."
This Imperial appreciation of what had been accomplished proved to be
the turning point in the inventor's fortunes. It stimulated financial
support, and the second airship was taken in hand. But misfortune still
pursued him. Accidents were of almost daily occurrence. Defects were
revealed here and weaknesses somewhere else. So soon as one trouble was
overcome another made itself manifest. The result was that the whole of
the money collected by his hard work was expended before the ship
could take to the air. A further crash and blasting of cherished hopes
appeared imminent, but at this moment another Royal personage came to
the inventor's aid.
The King of Wurtemberg took a personal interest in his subject's uphill
struggle, and the Wurtemberg Government granted him the proceeds of a
lottery. With this money, and with what he succeeded in raising by hook
and by crook, and by mortgaging his remaining property, a round L20,000
was obtained. With this capital a third ship was taken in hand, and
in 1905 it was launched. It was a distinct improvement upon its
predecessors. The airship was 414 feet in length by 38 feet in diameter,
was equipped with 17 gas balloons having an aggregate capacity of
367,000 cubic feet of hydrogen, was equipped with two 85 horse-power
motors driving four propellers, and displaced 9 tons. All the
imperfections incidental to the previous craft had been eliminated,
while the ship followed improved lines in its mechanical and structural
details.
The trials with this vessel commenced on November 30th, 1905, but
ill-luck had not been eluded. The airship was moored upon a raft which
was to be towed out into the lake to enable the dirigible to ascend.
But something went wrong with the arrangements. A strong wind caught the
ungainly airship, she dipped her nose into the water, and as the motor
was set going she was driven deeper into the lake, the vessel only being
saved by hurried deflation.
Six weeks were occupied in repairs, but another ascent was made
on January 17th, 1906. The trials were fairly satisfactory, but
inconclusive. One of the motors went wrong, and the longitudinal
stability was found to be indifferent. The vessel was brought down, and
was to be anchored, but the Fates ruled otherwise. A strong wind caught
her during the night and she was speedily reduced to indistinguishable
scrap.
Despite catastrophe the inventor wrestled gamely with his project. The
lessons taught by one disaster were taken to heart, and arrangements
to prevent the recurrence thereof incorporated in the succeeding craft.
Unfortunately, however, as soon as one defect was remedied another
asserted itself. It was this persistent revelation of the unexpected
which caused another period of indifference towards his invention.
Probably nothing more would have been heard of the Zeppelin after this
last accident had it not been for the intervention of the Prussian
Government at the direct instigation of the Kaiser, who had now taken
Count Zeppelin under his wing. A State lottery was inaugurated, the
proceeds of which were handed over to the indefatigable inventor,
together with an assurance that if he could keep aloft 24 hours without
coming to earth in the meantime, and could cover 450 miles within
this period, the Government would repay the whole of the money he had
lavished upon his idea, and liquidate all the debts he had incurred in
connection therewith.
Another craft was built, larger than its predecessors, and equipped with
two motors developing 170 horse-power. Upon completion it was submitted
to several preliminary flights, which were so eminently successful
that the inventor decided to make a trial trip under conditions closely
analogous to those imposed for the Government test. On June 20th, 1908,
at 8:26 a.m. the craft ascended and remained aloft for 12 hours, during
which time it made an encouraging circular tour. Flushed with this
success, the Count considered that the official award was within reach,
and that all his previous disasters and misfortunes were on the eve of
redemption.
The crucial test was essayed on August 5th, 1908. Accompanied by twelve
observers the vessel ascended and travelled without incident for
eight hours. Then a slight mishap demanded attention, but was speedily
repaired, and was ignored officially as being too trivial to influence
the main issue. Victory appeared within measurable distance: the arduous
toil of many patient years was about to be rewarded. The airship was
within sight of home when it had to descend owing to the development
of another motor fault. But as it approached the ground, Nature, as if
infuriated at the conquest, rose up in rebellion. A sudden squall struck
the unwieldy monster. Within a few moments it became unmanageable, and
through some inscrutable cause, it caught fire, with the result that
within a few moments it was reduced to a tangled mass of metallic
framework.
It was a catastrophe that would have completely vanquished many an
inventor, but the Count was saved the gall of defeat. His flight, which
was remarkable, inasmuch as he had covered 380 miles within 24 hours,
including two unavoidable descents, struck the Teuton imagination. The
seeds so carefully planted by the "Most High of Prussia" now bore fruit.
The German nation sympathised with the indomitable inventor, appreciated
his genius, and promptly poured forth a stream of subscriptions to
enable him to build another vessel. The intimation that other Powers had
approached the Count for the acquisition of his idea became known far
and wide, together with the circumstance that he had unequivocally
refused all offers. He was striving for the Fatherland, and his
unselfish patriotism appealed to one and all. Such an attitude deserved
hearty national appreciation, and the members of the great German public
emptied their pockets to such a degree that within a few weeks a sum of
L300,000 or $1,500,000 was voluntarily subscribed.
All financial embarrassments and distresses were now completely removed
from the Count's mind. He could forge ahead untrammelled by anxiety and
worry. Another Zeppelin was built and it created a world's record. It
remained aloft for 38 hours, during which time it covered 690 miles,
and, although it came to grief upon alighting, by colliding with a
tree, the final incident passed unnoticed. Germany was in advance of
the world. It had an airship which could go anywhere, irrespective of
climatic conditions, and in true Teuton perspective the craft was viewed
from the military standpoint. Here was a means of obtaining the mastery
of the air: a formidable engine of invasion and aerial attack had been
perfected. Consequently the Grand Idea must be supported with unbounded
enthusiasm. The Count was hailed by his august master as "The greatest
German of the twentieth century," and in this appreciation the populace
wholeheartedly concurred. Whether such a panegyric from such an
auspicious quarter is praise indeed or the equivalent of complete
condemnation, history alone will be able to judge, but when one
reflects, at this moment, upon the achievements of this aircraft during
the present conflagration, the unprejudiced will be rather inclined
to hazard the opinion that Imperial Teuton praise is a synonym for
damnation.
Although the Zeppelin was accepted as a perfect machine it has never
been possible to disperse the atmosphere of disaster with which it has
been enveloped from the first. Vessel after vessel has gone up in smoke
and flame: few craft of this type have enjoyed more than an evanescent
existence; and each successive catastrophe has proved more terrible than
its predecessor. But the Teutonic nation has been induced to pin its
whole faith on this airship, notwithstanding that the more levelheaded
engineers of other countries have always maintained the craft to be a
"mechanical monstrosity" condemned from its design and principles of
construction to disaster. Unshaken by this adverse criticism, Germany
rests assured that by means of its Zeppelins it will achieve that
universal supremacy which it is convinced is its Destiny.
This blind child-like faith has been responsible for the establishment
and development of the Zeppelin factories. At Friedrichshafen the
facilities are adequate to produce two of these vessels per month, while
another factory of a similar capacity has been established at Berlin.
Unfortunately such big craft demand large docks to accommodate them, and
in turn a large structure of this character constitutes an easy mark
for hostile attack, as the raiding airmen of the Allies have proved very
convincingly.
But the Zeppelin must not be under-rated. Magnificent performances have
been recorded by these vessels, such as the round 1,000 miles' trip in
1909, and several other equally brilliant feats since that date. It
is quite true that each astounding achievement has been attended by an
equally stupendous accident, but that is accepted as a mere incidental
detail by the faithful Teutonic nation. Many vivid prophecies of the
forthcoming flights by Zeppelin have been uttered, and it is quite
probable that more than one will be fulfilled, but success will be
attributable rather to accident than design.
Although the Zeppelin is the main stake of the German people in matters
pertaining to aerial conquest, other types of airships have not been
ignored, as related in another chapter. They have been fostered upon a
smaller but equally effective scale. The semi-rigid Parseval and Gross
craft have met with whole-hearted support, since they have established
their value as vessels of the air, which is tantamount to the acceptance
of their military value.
The Parseval is pronounced by experts to be the finest expression of
aeronautical engineering so far as Teuton effort is concerned. Certainly
it has placed many notable flights to its credit. The Gross airship
is an equally serviceable craft, its lines of design and construction
closely following those of the early French supple airships. There are
several other craft which have become more or less recognised by the
German nation as substantial units of war, such as the Ruthemberg,
Siemens-Schukert, and so forth, all of which have proved their
serviceability more or less conclusively. But in the somewhat
constricted Teuton mind the Zeppelin and the Zeppelin only represents
the ultima Thule of aerial navigation and the means for asserting the
universal character of Pan-Germanism as well as "Kultur."