_Observer_: Captain E. W. Furse.
_Hour at which reconnaissance commenced_: 9.20 a.m.
_Time._ _Place._ _Observation._
9.55 Villeneuve. Motor T.
9.58 E. Roberval. "
10.2 At Station N. of Motor T. halted clear of road.
Verberie.
10.6 La Croix. Cavalry and transport much opened
out, head La Croix.
10.13 Compiegne. Clear.
10:20 Chevincourt. Cavalry about 1 Bde. moving towards
Thourotte. Head near that
place. More cavalry and guns
following across fields. Bivouac at
Chevincourt. Transport coming
in from Marest road 10.25.
10.26 Mareuil. Cavalry column still continues--opened
out--new column trotting S.
10.27 Lassigny. Artillery just S. of town moving
south. Column ended just S. of
Lassigny (1/2 mile). Another column,
tail Lassigny, was moving towards Thiescourt.
Also mounted troops. About one mile N. of
Lassigny mounted troops in bivouac
and on road from Roye, stretching
right up to Roye. Columns included
guns and motor transport.
Parked transport just N. of Roye.
10.50 Roye. Three Batteries halted in field 1-1/2 m.
S.E. of Roye. Besides the column
stretching south to Lassigny,
there was another column stretching
S.E. on Noyon road. German
aeroplane on ground S. of Roye.
10.55 Conchy. Infantry and guns moving due east
through Conchy.
Orvillers. Few troops in village.
11.0 Ressons. Went up road east of railway. This
was clear.
11.3 Margny. Squadrons moving S.E.
11.7 Compiegne road Troop car moving towards Compiegne.
2-1/2 miles S.E. of
Cuvilly.
Estrees-St.-Denis. Squadrons at intervals down this
road from Roye. Just S. of
Estrees a Bde. of Cav. and one
battery halted clear of road.
Bazicourt. Cav. Inf. and Transport seen.
Squadron Cav. moving N. out of
Bazicourt. Inf.--much opened
out--moving east into Bazicourt
from Rosoy. Inf. looked in dark
uniform. Transport--some halted
and some moving south.
11.25 Sarron. 2 Regts. Cav. moving east from
Brenouille.
11.27 Pont-St.-Maxence. Motor Transport. Some halted.
Some going south.
No bridges over Oise appeared
to be destroyed. Some barges
might have been sunk in stream at
Compiegne.
(_Signed_) E. W. FURSE.
[Illustration: Map Illustrating Aerial Reconnaissance Area.
August 31st 1914.]
It will be seen that Captain E. W. Furse, when he picked up the enemy,
first observed Marwitz's cavalry corps which crossed the Oise at
Thourotte on the morning of the 31st. He then saw part of the German
Third Corps, which, after spending the night in Roye, moved on the 31st
through Lassigny, crossed the Oise at Ribecourt, and in the evening
reached Attichy on the Aisne. The remainder of the Third Corps moved on
Noyon and at night reached Vic on the Aisne. These movements on Noyon
and Ribecourt differed in direction from the previous movements of the
German left wing.
The reports supplement and confirm one another. Captain D. Le G.
Pitcher, of No. 4 Squadron, had gone up with Captain A. H. L. Soames
soon after 7.0 a.m., and had returned at 8.40 a.m. with the news of a
column stretching from Roye to Chevincourt. This information was at once
telephoned from the aerodrome at Senlis to General Headquarters. The
movements of some of the other formations of the German First Army were
also seen to have changed direction. Lieutenant C. G. Hosking and
Lieutenant K. P. Atkinson on a B.E. of No. 4 Squadron flew over Roye and
Lassigny, confirming the report of movements in that area. Then turning
west they passed over various columns moving in a southerly direction
until they reached the road that follows along the east bank of the
river Avre from Amiens through Montdidier, and here they found part of
the German Second Corps. The head of the main body was in Montdidier at
2.0 p.m., and its tail was in La Neuville. Flying south along the road
they found the advanced guard of the column at Le Ployron.
All these air reports left little doubt as to the enemy's movements, and
the operation orders sent out by General Headquarters from
Dammartin-en-Goele at 8.50 p.m. on the 31st of August gave the
information that the enemy appeared to have completed his westerly
movement, and that large columns were advancing in a general southerly
or south-easterly direction on Noyon-Compiegne. Sir John French directed
that the retirement should be continued on the following day in a
south-westerly direction.
Air reconnaissances of the 1st of September, whilst confirming the news
of von Kluck's wheel in a south-easterly direction, also reported heavy
columns as having reached Villers-Cotterets and Crepy-en-Valois. To
withdraw the British out of reach of a night attack Sir John French
decided to continue the retreat earlier than he had intended. The corps
commanders were ordered to get clear by a night march. We know now from
von Kluck's own statement that, perturbed at leaving the British army on
his flank, he determined to make another effort to catch them up. He
therefore ordered his corps to turn south to settle with the British. So
on the 1st of September he was again in pursuit of the British, but the
British were slipping from his grasp. There was fighting on this day,
which held up the pursuit, and by the evening the German army had made
an average advance of no more than ten miles.
Von Kluck persisted on the following day, but in vain. The British
escaped towards the Marne. 'A chance of dealing a decisive blow', he
says, 'against the British Army was now no longer to be hoped for,
and it was therefore decided to move the two Corps on the left wing,
the Third and Ninth, in the general direction of Chateau-Thierry
against the flank of the French retreating from Braisne-Fismes on
Chateau-Thierry-Dormans in front of the Second Army.'
[Illustration: Map Illustrating Aerial Reconnaissance Area.
2nd to 9th Sept. 1914.]
The air reports which came in on the 3rd of September showed much of
this further change of plan. Long columns were seen marching almost due
east towards the Ourcq and later in the day other columns were nearing
the Marne. Some had already crossed the Marne at Chateau-Thierry, whilst
others were making for crossings west of that town. At 4.35 p.m. General
Headquarters sent out the following telegram:
'Present information leads to the belief that the enemy is moving from
west to east and that no immediate attack is intended. Unless the
situation again changes troops will remain in their present billets. The
Commander-in-Chief is most anxious that the Army should have a complete
rest to-morrow. No digging or other operations except those necessary
for protection will be undertaken unless special orders are issued.'
Pilots who went out soon after dawn on the morning of the 4th found a
thick mist over the river Marne extending to the depth of a mile on
either bank, but various columns were seen stirring out of bivouacs on
the north of the river and there were other movements well to the south
of the river. At 12.20 p.m. Lieutenant R. P. Mills saw movements between
Bellot and Rebais and artillery in action on the high ground one mile
south-east of Bellot. In the afternoon there came fuller reports of
movements towards the Petit Morin. The situation as traced at Royal
Flying Corps headquarters on the night of the 4th from observations made
during the day is very accurate. It shows that the German Ninth Corps,
which had secured the crossings at Chateau-Thierry on the previous
evening, had progressed to near Montmirail; that the Third and Fourth
Corps had got well clear of the Marne and were about and across the
Petit Morin; and that the Second Corps and Marwitz's cavalry were held
up at the Marne east of Meaux.
Von Kluck had marched into a bag between the Fifth French Army on the
Marne and the newly formed Sixth French Army advancing to the Ourcq.
Just at this time the German Supreme Command seems to have become aware
of the danger threatening the German armies on the right wing. On the
night of the 4th of September orders had been sent out from German First
Army headquarters at La Ferte Milon, detailing the movements to be made
on the following day. These movements had already begun when at 7.15
a.m. on the 5th fresh instructions arrived from the Supreme Command
ordering the First and Second Armies to remain facing the eastern front
of Paris; the First Army between the Oise and the Marne, occupying the
Marne crossings west of Chateau-Thierry, and the Second Army between the
Marne and the Seine, occupying the Seine crossings from Nogent to Mery.
This led, says von Kluck, to 'the difficult backwards wheel' of the
First Army, and to what he calls 'the important events that occurred
during the second week of September'--events known to history as the
battle of the Marne. Von Kluck allowed the original movements ordered
for the 5th to be carried out, and, he says, 'the conclusion of this
advance marked the culminating point of the operations of the First
Army'. On this same day General Joffre told Sir John French that he
intended to take the offensive forthwith as the conditions seemed
favourable, and on the morning of the 6th this offensive opened.
The main work of the Royal Flying Corps throughout the days of the
retreat was reconnaissance, and enough has been said of their reports to
show that Sir John French was well served by his new arm. He had been
warned before the battle of Mons, not only of the heavy movement on his
front but of the enveloping attempt on his flank, and throughout the
retreat he was punctually informed of von Kluck's enveloping efforts.
The change of direction made on the 31st of August was immediately seen
and reported. Von Kluck's renewed pursuit of the British on the two
following days did not escape observation. Finally, the German swerve to
the left on the 3rd of September was closely followed from the air.
These are the main conclusions that come from a study of the air reports
of those days. General Headquarters were perhaps at first a little shy
of trusting the air reports, but they realized their value during the
retreat, and paid more and more attention to them--an attention which
found practical results in the operation orders issued. The Royal Flying
Corps played their part in helping the British army to escape. Further,
they were making themselves, and were improving in skill every day. The
lessons learned on the retreat from Mons bore their full fruit at a
later period, when the officers of the original squadrons held the
command of those Flying Corps units which operated in the mobile
campaigns of distant theatres of the war.
Their work during the retreat was done under difficulties. There were
alarms at Compiegne of Uhlans seen in the vicinity of the aerodrome, and
a guard was provided from the Camerons. Major B. H. Barrington-Kennett
remarks on the difficulty of defending a Flying Corps camp from attack
by cavalry. It would seem advisable, he says, when camped in an open
aerodrome to park the aeroplanes inside a laager formed by lorries and
cars. The head-lights of the cars would lighten a good field of fire,
and would probably, if switched on at the approach of cavalry, cause the
horses to stampede. The Royal Flying Corps, he adds, should be armed and
practised with machine-guns and rifles, so that they may protect
themselves without asking for an escort.
At Juilly on the 1st of September there was another alarm. The country
to the north was thickly wooded, and German cavalry, which proved later
to be those escaped from the affair at Nery, were reported within a few
miles, with no British troops between. General Headquarters at
Dammartin-en-Goele, some two miles away, hastily took their departure,
and the Royal Flying Corps transport was sent off at once to Serris. But
the aeroplanes could not leave, for already it was dark. The suggestion
was made that the aeroplanes should fly off in the dark, but
fortunately, says Major C. J. Burke, this was not attempted. The Flying
Corps stood to arms to defend itself. A sunken road running east and
west past the aerodrome was occupied, rifles and ammunition were served
out to the mechanics, and machine-guns were set in position. After a
time a troop of North Irish Horse arrived, to aid in the defence. All
night watch was kept, but the German cavalry did not appear. In the
morning, for the first time since the beginning of the retreat, there
was no ground mist, and the machines got away at once.
The history of the retreat is made up of incidents like this. Some of
the flying officers have kindly communicated their memories and
impressions. 'The extraordinary part about the retreat', says Wing
Commander P. B. Joubert de la Ferte, 'was the contrasts that one
experienced from day to day; one night sleeping under a hedge in a
thunder-storm; the next in a comfortable private house; the third in the
most modern type of hotel with every luxury and convenience, the whole
forming a picture the impression of which has lasted throughout the
war.... One curious thing was, unless one was brought down or left
behind near the firing line one never came up against the actual
unpleasantnesses of war, and it was not until the advance to the Aisne
started that those of us who had not been on ground duty, or unlucky,
saw any signs of fighting other than from the air. What we saw during
the advance confirmed our impressions from the air as to the
unspeakableness of the Hun in his methods of dealing with the civilian
population. I saw half a dozen villages on fire during the first day of
the battle, twenty miles west of Mons, where by no possible means could
there have been any armed resistance to the passage of the Huns. It was
simply frightfulness on the part of the Uhlans, and what we saw later on
the ground at Pezarches, Coulommiers, and La Fere was a clear indication
of wilful and unnecessary destruction of private property. The sight of
a draper's shop with every window smashed, every shelf emptied, and the
contents thrown into the street was quite a common one.'
Major F. G. Small says, speaking of the 27th of August: 'The retreat
continued to Compiegne Forest, Huns pressing our troops all the while.
On returning from late reconnaissances in the dusk, it was most
interesting to watch the local fighting in the roads between their
vanguards and our rearguards. The spreading of fires all over the
country around Compiegne Forest was a more curious sight than even the
later trench offensive, the fires spreading like long flaming worms
along the main road, as the Huns fired each village they went through.
The northern portion of Compiegne Forest was blazing at this date.'
The speed of the retreat caused some embarrassments. On the 31st of
August, while the Flying Corps occupied Senlis racecourse, two officers,
belonging to Nos. 4 and 5 Squadrons, motored to Paris to get some
aircraft spares, and returning in the evening found the Germans in
occupation. In the dusk they were mistaken for German officers and drove
their car right up to the cottages which a few hours earlier had been
the headquarters of the Flying Corps. Aviation teaches quick resource;
the officers managed to escape.
The pilots were not down-hearted. At Compiegne, where they were billeted
in a school, Major Baring records that they were in tearing spirits.
Besides their main duty of observation from the air, they rendered other
occasional services. 'The usual orders on the retreat', says Wing
Commander L. A. Strange, 'were dawn reconnaissances, dropping
hand-grenades and petrol bombs on the enemy, and when it was impossible
to notify pilots of the next aerodrome, the orders were to fly
approximately twenty miles south and look out for the remainder of the
machines on the ground, if machines had left the last aerodromes.'
During the retreat the dropping of bombs was still in an early
experimental stage. There were some mildly successful exploits. About
dusk on the 1st of September an unnamed officer of the Flying Corps,
flying over the woods north of Villers-Cotterets, noticed two columns of
the enemy's cavalry converging at the angle of cross-roads. He dropped
two bombs, which caused confusion and a stampede. There was no
bomb-dropping gear in use at this time, but small hand-grenades were
carried in the pockets, and larger bombs were slung or tied about the
person. The first experience of German bombs was at Compiegne on the
29th of August; while the Flying Corps were stationed there a German
machine flew over the aerodrome and dropped three small bombs, which did
no harm. On our side there was no time during the retreat for experiment
with new devices; it was not until the Germans took up fixed positions
on the Aisne that the inventive powers of the Flying Corps got to work
on the devising of bombing gear, the improving of artillery observation,
and the mounting of machine-guns.
The retreat also witnessed the beginnings of fighting in the air. The
first German machine to be seen by the British appeared over the
aerodrome at Maubeuge on the 22nd of August. There are various accounts
of this. Major C. J. Burke in his diary says: 'At about 2.25 p.m. an
Albatross biplane passed over the town. Major Longcroft with Captain
Dawes as passenger, Lieutenant Dawes with Major Burke as passenger, on
B.E.'s, gave chase. The gun machine piloted by Lieutenant Strange also
went out. The machine (Albatross) had far too long a start, and got into
a rain cloud.' Wing Commander L. A. Strange says: 'Chased a German
Albatross machine for forty-five minutes, Lieutenant Penn-Gaskell
observer, with Lewis gun. Was unable to get higher than 3,500 feet,
while the Albatross was at about 5,000 feet. Observed no effect from the
fire. As a result of this received orders to discard Lewis gun and
mounting, and transfer the controls from rear seat to the front seat,
the passenger to carry rifle in the back seat.' Major J. T. B. McCudden
says: 'About the 22nd August a strange aeroplane flew over us at about
4,000 feet, and the aerodrome look-out reported it to be a German
machine, the first we had seen in the War. We all turned out armed with
rifles, and about six machines got ready to go up in pursuit.... All the
machines which went up were loaded with hand-grenades, as the intention
then was to bring a hostile aeroplane down by dropping bombs on it. The
German easily got away, although it looked at one time as if Captain
Longcroft would be able to intercept him on a B.E. 2 a. About half an
hour after the German had departed a Henri Farman of No. 5 Squadron,
fitted with a machine-gun, was still climbing steadily over the
aerodrome at about 1,000 feet in a strenuous endeavour to catch the
Boche.'
No. 5 Squadron from the first had been zealous in experimenting with
machine-guns. Experience of fighting in the air, which began with this
adventure, soon taught how enormous is the advantage, whether for attack
or escape, given by superiority in height.
It was not, however, until the 25th of August that an enemy machine was
brought down by a British aeroplane. Sir John French in his first
dispatch, dated the 7th of September 1914, alludes to the earliest
combats. His tribute must be quoted in full: 'I wish particularly to
bring to your Lordships' notice the admirable work done by the Royal
Flying Corps under Sir David Henderson. Their skill, energy, and
perseverance have been beyond all praise. They have furnished me with
the most complete and accurate information, which has been of
incalculable value in the conduct of operations. Fired at constantly
both by friend and foe, and not hesitating to fly in every kind of
weather, they have remained undaunted throughout. Further, by actually
fighting in the air, they have succeeded in destroying five of the
enemy's machines.'
Unfortunately during the retreat combat reports were not made out, so
that there is no account in the war diaries of the actual fighting. Some
of the fights are mentioned. On the 25th of August three machines of No.
2 Squadron chased an enemy monoplane. It was forced to land; Lieutenant
H. D. Harvey-Kelly and Lieutenant W. H. C. Mansfield landed near it and
continued the chase on foot, but the Germans escaped into a wood. When
some trophies had been taken from the machine it was burnt. Another
German machine was forced to descend on the same day near Le Quesnoy,
where it was captured. Aeroplanes at this time had no special armament;
officers carried revolvers and sometimes a carbine; but the confidence
and determination with which they attacked did the work of a
machine-gun, and brought the enemy down. In one instance, a little later
on, a British pilot and observer, who were destitute of ammunition,
succeeded by manoeuvring boldly above a German machine in bringing it to
the ground and taking it captive.
On the afternoon of the 5th of September neither the German Supreme
Command (which had its headquarters at Luxembourg) nor the staff of the
German First Army had any idea that an offensive of the whole French
army was imminent. The Supreme Command was expecting a decisive victory
in the east against the Verdun-Nancy-St.-Die defences. They believed
that the German First and Second Armies could easily hold the weak
French forces around Paris until this decision should be achieved, and
they did not know how great a part of the French strength had been
transferred from the east to the west. From the 5th to the 9th of
September they issued no orders to their First and Second Armies, who
were left to fight out the decisive battle of the war, without their
help and almost without their knowledge, against superior forces.
General Joffre's 'Instruction' for the offensive on the 6th was brought
to British General Headquarters by a French staff officer at 3 a.m. on
the morning of the 5th. Unfortunately, orders to the British army to
continue the retreat in accordance with General Joffre's previous
instructions had already been given to the corps commanders. The Second
Corps had moved off before midnight and the First and Third Corps a
little later. Consequently the British army by the end of the day was
some twelve to fifteen miles farther back than the French
Commander-in-Chief expected, and although its subsequent advance across
the Marne had a decisive effect, the hard fighting of the battle was
borne by the French army on the Ourcq. During the 5th, General Maunoury,
commanding the Sixth French Army on the British left, and later on
General Joffre himself, visited Sir John French, and all arrangements
for the morrow's offensive were discussed. Sir John French's operation
orders issued at 5.15 p.m. on the 5th of September directed the army to
advance eastward with a view to attacking. The preliminary movement of
the British army, a wheel to the east, pivoting on its right, was to be
completed by the right wing at 9 a.m. and by the left wing at 10 a.m. on
the 6th.
On the early morning of the 6th Sir John French gave verbal instructions
that the Royal Flying Corps were to send aeroplanes to report for
reconnaissance direct to the First and Second Corps. The officer
commanding No. 5 Squadron, with three machines, was to report for
tactical reconnaissance direct to Sir Douglas Haig at Chaubuisson farm,
one and a half miles east of Fontenay; and the officer commanding No. 3
Squadron, also with three machines, was to report direct to Sir Horace
Smith-Dorrien at Combreux Chateau, near Tournan. With each detachment
was to go a wireless aeroplane from No. 4 Squadron to keep Royal Flying
Corps headquarters informed by wireless. The machines were to return to
headquarters at night. This was the beginning of the decentralization of
the Royal Flying Corps, whereby certain squadrons, which came to be
called corps squadrons, were attached to the corps commands. The German
air service from the beginning had been thus organized. With the German
First Army headquarters there was one aeroplane section for
long-distance strategic reconnaissance and each of the corps, with the
exception of the Fourth Reserve Corps, had its own section for tactical
work. From Maubeuge to the Marne the squadrons of the Royal Flying Corps
had been kept together under the immediate control of General Henderson.
The experiment of detaching machines to report direct to the First and
Second Corps worked well on the 6th of September, and Sir John French
gave orders that this arrangement was to continue.
Aeroplanes which were sent out on the morning of the 6th brought
information of confused movements of the German First Army. On the
British front a certain amount of movement northwards was seen in the
afternoon. Of the progress of the battle on his flanks Sir John French
had little knowledge. Aeroplanes were sent up to reconnoitre the
position. One which flew over the area of the Sixth French Army west of
the Ourcq saw at about five o'clock a good deal of movement and shells
bursting in the area Etavigny-Marcilly-May-en-Multien. Another machine
which flew along the line of the Fifth French Army on the British right
came back with the information that at four o'clock fighting was going
on south of Esternay and north of Villiers-St.-Georges. By seven o'clock
that evening Sir John French had no definite news of the progress of the
French armies on his wings save what was contained in these air reports,
and the orders which he issued stated simply that all troops should be
ready to move at any time after 8.0 a.m. on the morrow.
Early on the 7th the situation became clearer; a general retirement of
the Germans on the British front was in progress. Sir John French had
issued orders at 8.0 a.m. for the advance to be continued in the
direction of Rebais, the army to move in echelon from the right and to
attack the enemy wherever met. Aeroplanes on morning reconnaissance
returned soon after the army began to move with information of early
activity behind the German lines and general movement northwards. Later
in the morning columns were seen moving in a north-westerly direction
towards the Ourcq. These reconnaissances seemed to show that von Kluck
was hurriedly withdrawing two of his corps--the Second and the
Fourth--to reinforce his right wing across the Ourcq.
Early reconnaissances on the 8th told of congested movement over the
bridge at La Ferte-sous-Jouarre, south of which masses of troops were
awaiting their turn to cross. But the British advance was necessarily
slow. The country was well suited to rearguard actions and skilful use
was made of the ground by the German machine-gunners. By the evening the
British had forced the passage of the Petit Morin, but they spent the
night south of the Marne. Meantime, as air reports showed, von Kluck's
right was heavily engaged by Maunoury's Sixth Army to the west of the
Ourcq. On the night of the 8th General Joffre, taking advantage of the
withdrawal of the two German corps from the British front, ordered that
Maunoury's army should hold the enemy troops on the right bank of the
Ourcq, whilst the British on the following day should advance across the
Marne between Nogent l'Artaud and La Ferte-sous-Jouarre against the left
and rear of the enemy on the Ourcq. The Marne with its steep wooded
sides was well suited to rearguard actions and a stubborn resistance was
expected. But air observers who came in early on the morning of the 9th
brought back the news of enemy columns formed up facing in a northerly
direction. Some were already on the move, and it became apparent that
the enemy intended no determined, but only a delaying stand on the
Marne.
Captain D. Le G. Pitcher, piloted by Lieutenant G. W. Mapplebeck, whilst
reconnoitring near Chateau-Thierry about 12.45 p.m. saw large bodies of
enemy troops in the neighbourhood of Chateau-Thierry and infantry moving
on Domptin. This position was west of the British Third Infantry
Brigade, and the whole of the First Corps was ordered to halt until the
situation should be cleared up. The First Corps did not move forward
again until 3.0 p.m. By the evening of the 9th the First and Second
Corps were across the Marne, but the Third Corps on the left had been
held up and was mostly south of the river. General Maunoury had had a
hard fight, but by the late afternoon the Germans, pressed by the
advance of the British across the Marne, had begun to retire in a
north-easterly direction. Captain R. A. Boger, piloted by Captain R.
Grey, brought this welcome news direct to the General Officer Commanding
the Third Corps (Lieutenant-General W. P. Pulteney) at 5.0 p.m. He had
seen long columns moving north-east from Lizy through Ocquerre on to
Coulombs. This was believed to be von Kluck's Fifth Division. Other
observers came in with similar information. By the evening of the 9th
the retirement of the enemy was general from the Ourcq to Verdun. The
battle of the Marne was won. The German armies retired, with no very
great disorder, to strong positions along the heights of the northern
bank of the river Aisne. Paris was saved; for the first time for over a
hundred years an invading Prussian army had been turned and driven back;
but the war was yet to come.
During the battle the Royal Flying Corps had been active over the enemy,
and, as has been shown, reported his movements fully day by day. The
machines which worked direct with the corps had supplied much useful
tactical information, which was passed on direct to the corps commanders
as soon as the machines landed. The observers usually reported by word
of mouth, and so were able to convey a full and true impression. They
reported which river-bridges were broken and which intact, and they
dropped messages on to the advanced British infantry in places, warning
them of danger ahead. They sometimes located for corps commanders the
head of the leading troops of their corps. After a three days' stay at
Melun, the headquarters of the Flying Corps moved on the 7th of
September to Touquin--the first move forward since the retreat from
Mons. At Pezarches, about a mile away, a field was chosen for an
aerodrome. Fighting had taken place there, and small one-man trenches
had to be filled in before any machine could land. On the 9th of
September headquarters moved forward again to Coulommiers, and on the
12th to Fere-en-Tardenois, which place became the headquarters for the
battle of the Aisne. Here the squadrons were established at Saponay,
some two miles to the north-west. For many long months and years the
Flying Corps was not again to be employed in a war of movement against a
powerful European army, so that the work they did from the time when
they arrived at Maubeuge to the time when they settled at
Fere-en-Tardenois has a unique value. The French Commander-in-Chief paid
tribute to their skill. His message ran: 'Please express most
particularly to Marshal French my thanks for the services rendered to us
every day by the English Flying Corps. The precision, exactitude, and
regularity of the news brought in by them are evidence of their perfect
organization and also of the perfect training of pilots and observers.'
The weather during the early part of the Marne battle had been excellent
for flying. The air had been still and the heat tropical. On the 9th of
September, the critical day of the battle, the weather broke, and for
the next few days there were violent storms and heavy rains which
greatly impeded air work of any sort. The worst of these storms occurred
on the night of the 12th of September, when the squadrons had newly
arrived at Saponay. Four machines of No. 5 Squadron were completely
wrecked, and others damaged. Lieutenant L. A. Strange saved his Henri
Farman machine, which had made a forced landing, by pushing it up
against a haystack, laying a ladder over the front skids, and piling
large paving-stones on the ladder, using hay twisted into ropes for
tying down the machine. A diary of No. 3 Squadron records that when the
machines of that squadron arrived at Saponay, about five hours before
the transport, 'a terrible storm was raging, and before anything could
be done to make the machines more secure the wind shifted, and about
half the total number of machines were over on their backs. One Henri
Farman went up about thirty feet in the air and crashed on top of
another Henri Farman in a hopeless tangle. B.E.'s of No. 2 Squadron were
blowing across the aerodrome, and when daylight arrived and the storm
abated, the aerodrome presented a pitiful sight. The Royal Flying Corps
in the field had probably not more than ten machines serviceable that
morning.... Hangars were not yet issued.' The protection of machines
from accidents like this became comparatively easy when the line of
battle was stabilized and fixed aerodromes were made.
On Sunday, the 13th of September, the Allied armies had crossed the
Aisne, but were held up by the enemy line of defence which, ran along
the heights from east of Compiegne to north of Rheims. There was dogged
fighting, with attacks and counter-attacks, but little or no progress
was made. The Germans had regained the initiative, and the British army
was forced to dig itself in along the line of battle. On the 18th of
September General Joffre changed his plans and began to push forces up
on the Allied left in order to envelop the German right flank. To give
this movement a chance the enemy had to be held on the front, and the
cavalry were called on to take their turn in the trenches--a duty which
before long became very familiar to them. But the Germans extended and
reinforced their line for a similar outflanking movement. These
enveloping attempts did not cease until the opposing armies were ranged
along a line of trenches stretching from the Swiss frontier to the coast
of Belgium.
During the battle of the Aisne, from the 12th to the 15th of September,
the British forced the passage of the river and captured the Aisne
heights including the Chemin des Dames. Thereafter fighting degenerated
into a sullen trench warfare, culminating on the 26th of September and
the two following days in a series of fierce attacks by the Germans.
These attacks were repulsed and were not again renewed.
On the 12th of September Lieutenant L. Dawes and Lieutenant W. R.
Freeman, of No. 2 Squadron, had a notable adventure. They left in the
morning to carry out an aerial reconnaissance to St.-Quentin. A little
south of Anizy-le-Chateau, between Soissons and Laon, their machine
began to rock and vibrate in the air, as if the tail were loose. They
planed down at once, and landed in a small field, finishing up in a
wood, where they damaged their undercarriage, wings, and airscrew. Large
German columns were on the roads on both sides of them, within about two
hundred yards. Taking only a biscuit and some tubes of beef extract with
them, they hid in another wood close by. Some German cavalry came up to
the machine, and then went all round the first wood, but found nothing,
and after an hour and a half went away. The two officers lay hid until
the evening, and then started in the direction of the Aisne, some eight
miles distant. During the night they passed several German pickets, but
the war was young, the spirit of exhilaration still prevailed in the
German army, and the pickets were making so much noise that they passed
unobserved. At 3.0 in the morning they reached the Aisne, where they lay
down and slept. At 6.0 they were wakened by the firing of a gun close
by, and realized that they were in front of the German position. German
cavalry patrolled the road in front of them, and they were under heavy
shell-fire from the British. They swam the Aisne, dried their clothes in
a house by the canal, and then walked to the British guns, which were
still in action. They were given food by the Third Cavalry Brigade, and
were taken back on a supply column to rejoin their squadron after an
absence of more than two days. It might be supposed that their troubles
were now at an end, but they had yet to face their squadron commander,
Major Burke, who sternly rebuked them for violating the order that no
two pilots should fly together in the same machine.
The work of observation now entered a new phase. When armies are in
fixed positions movement behind the front and along the lines of
communication does not greatly vary from day to day. The Flying Corps
were employed to map out the enemy's chief railheads, his aerodromes
(which were surprisingly numerous), his camps, and his dumps. They began
also to observe the positions of enemy batteries in order to range them
for our own artillery, and they made some attempts to take photographs
from the air of the enemy trenches and lines of communication.
Maubeuge had fallen on the 7th of September and, in addition to the
Seventh Reserve Corps and other troops, the siege artillery which had
been used to reduce Maubeuge was brought down to the Aisne, and the
British guns were outranged and outnumbered. The spotting of hostile
batteries became an operation of the first importance, and the Flying
Corps quickly rose to its opportunities. When trench warfare began, the
aeroplanes attached to corps commands took up artillery officers daily
from each division over the German batteries. The positions of these
batteries were noted on maps, and the maps were sent in every day to the
divisional artillery commander, who allotted the targets to his
batteries. When any part of the British lines was shelled, information
was obtained from the air and orders were given to those of our
batteries which could best reply, to concentrate on the enemy's guns.
The wireless machines of No. 4 Squadron had been attached to the army
corps direct during the battle of the Marne, but their opportunities had
been few. On the Aisne they were first used to observe for the
artillery. Two pioneers of wireless telegraphy are associated in work
and in memory with these early attempts at wireless co-operation with
the artillery--Lieutenants Lewis and James. Donald Swain Lewis had
joined the Royal Engineers in 1904, and, after qualifying as a pilot in
May 1912, had transferred to the Royal Flying Corps in December 1913. By
example and precept he had done all that he could before the war to
adapt wireless telegraphy to the uses of the Flying Corps and to
convince others of its necessity. Before the battle of the Aisne ended
he had won his victory. He was in the habit of going out alone in a B.E.
machine, piloting the machine and operating the wireless at the same
time. A brother-officer noted of him in a diary: 'Lewis, R.E., came in
from spotting with his machine shot full of holes; I believe he likes
it!' Later on in the war, at home and in the field, he continued his
work. In April 1915 he was appointed to command No. 3 Squadron, in
succession to Major J. M. Salmond, and did much to maintain and advance
the great reputation of that pioneer among squadrons. After a spell at
home during the winter of 1915-16, he returned to France in February
1916, to command the Second Wing, co-operating with the Second Army in
the Ypres salient. By this time he held the rank of lieutenant-colonel,
but he continued to fly over the enemy lines. On the 10th of April 1916,
flying a Morane parasol, east of Wytschaete, with Captain A. W. Gale, an
officer of the Trench Mortars, as passenger, he was brought down by a
direct hit from the enemy's anti-aircraft guns. He had been showing
Captain Gale some of the objectives on which the trench mortar fire had
been directed during the week, and was killed in action while he was
carrying out the duties of that artillery observation which he had done
so much to perfect.
Baron Trevenen James had been a mathematical scholar and head of his
House at Harrow; in 1907 he passed into Woolwich, and two years later
was commissioned in the Royal Engineers. He was early interested in
aviation; in June 1912, after only three days' practice, he obtained the
Royal Aero Club certificate at Hendon, flying a Howard Wright biplane.
In April 1913 he joined the Military Wing of the Royal Flying Corps, and
was at once employed in carrying out experiments with wireless. In
December 1913 he was joined by Lieutenant Lewis, and the two became
famous for the theory and practice of their craft. On the outbreak of
war Lieutenant James was attached to No. 4 Squadron for wireless duties;
when in September 1914 the headquarters wireless telegraphy unit was
formed, under the command of Major H. Musgrave, at Fere-en-Tardenois,
Lieutenant James was attached to it, and shared with Lieutenant Lewis
the duty of reporting by wireless over the fire of the enemy guns. Like
Lieutenant Lewis, he was subsequently killed in the air. On the 13th of
July 1915 his commanding officer reports: 'He was observing from the
aeroplane alone, as he generally did. He was ranging a battery, and was
being heavily shelled. His machine was hit by a shell, and was seen to
dive to the ground from a great height. The Germans dropped a note from
one of their machines saying that he was dead when he fell.... He met
the end I am sure he would have wished for--if it had to be--suddenly,
alone, and doing his duty.'
These two, then, Lieutenants Lewis and James, had been untiring in their
enthusiasm and perseverance during the years before the war. On the
Aisne their reward was granted them. 'I wish to express', says General
Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien in a telegram dated the 27th of September 1914,
'my great admiration for the splendid work the Royal Flying Corps is
doing for my Corps from day to day. Nothing prevents them from obtaining
the required information, and they frequently return with rifle or
shrapnel bullets through their aeroplane or even their clothing, without
considering such, to them, ordinary incidents as worth mentioning.
To-day I watched for a long time an aeroplane observing for the six-inch
howitzers for the Third Division. It was, at times, smothered with
hostile anti-aircraft guns, but, nothing daunted, it continued for hours
through a wireless installation to observe the fire and indeed to
control the Battery with most satisfactory results. I am not mentioning
names, as to do so, where all are daily showing such heroic and
efficient work, would be invidious.' Lieutenants Lewis and James are now
beyond the voices of envy, and their names may fitly be recorded in the
memory of their country.
One of the earliest of the messages sent down by wireless from the air
is dated the 24th of September 1914. It is worthy of full quotation:
4.2 p.m. A very little short. Fire. Fire.
4.4 p.m. Fire again. Fire again.
4.12 p.m. A little short; line O.K.
4.15 p.m. Short. Over, over and a little left.
4.20 p.m. You were just between two batteries. Search two
hundred yards each side of your last shot.
Range O.K.
4.22 p.m. You have them.
4.26 p.m. Hit. Hit. Hit.
4.32 p.m. About 50 yards short and to the right.
4.37 p.m. Your last shot in the middle of 3 batteries in action;
search all round within 300 yards of your last
shot and you have them.
4.42 p.m. I am coming home now.
The later signals directing artillery fire were not so full of colour
as these early messages. They consisted of code letters. The clock code
for signalling the results of artillery fire was first used in 1915 and
afterwards generally throughout the war. The target was taken as the
centre of a clock and imaginary lines were circumscribed around it at
distances of 10, 25, 50, 100, 200, 300, 400, and 500 yards. These lines
were lettered Y, Z, A, B, C, D, E, F, respectively. Twelve o'clock was
always taken as true north from the target and the remaining hours
accordingly. An observer noted the fall of the rounds with reference to
the imaginary circles and clock-hours and signalled the result, for
instance, as Y 4, or C 6. A direct hit was O.K, and there were other
signals. Messages from the battery or any other ground station were
signalled to the observer in the aeroplane by means of white strips
which were laid out on the ground to form the letters of a code.
During the battle of the Aisne, the wireless machines were few in number
and other methods of signalling were mostly in use. On the 15th of
September Captain L. E. O. Charlton fired Very lights over enemy guns
previously observed. On the 24th of September 'Lieutenant Allen and two
others with aeroplanes indicated targets and observed fire,
communication being by flash signals'. Sometimes the pilots returned and
landed to report on gun positions. But when once the gunners had
profited by the superior accuracy and speed of report by wireless, they
were hungry for more machines. On the 23rd of September the commander of
the Second Corps telegraphed to General Headquarters: 'I hope that you
will be able to spare the wireless aeroplane and receiving set to Third
Division again to-morrow. The results were so good yesterday that it
seems a pity not to keep it with the Division, which has got accustomed
to its uses and is in a position to benefit even more largely by the
experience gained.' The answer was that the machine had been damaged by
anti-aircraft fire, but would be ready again shortly. A wireless
aeroplane was as popular as an opera-singer, and the headquarters
wireless section soon developed into No. 9 Squadron of the Royal Flying
Corps. The attitude of the gunners may be well seen in an entry made in
the war diary of No. 3 Siege Battery, dated the 23rd of January
1915--'Airman' (Captain Cherry) 'reported for co-operation (lamp only,
alas!).'
The photography was a mere beginning. On the 15th of September
Lieutenant G. F. Pretyman took five photographs of the enemy positions;
these were developed later on the ground, and were the forerunners of
that immense photographic map of the western front in thousands of
sections, constantly renewed and corrected, which played so great a part
in the later stages of the war. Some other experiments had no later
history. Steel darts called 'flechettes', about five inches long and
three-eighths of an inch in diameter, were dropped over enemy
horse-lines and troops by No. 3 Squadron. A canister holding about 250
of these darts was fixed under the fuselage; by the pulling of a wire
the bottom of the tin was opened and the darts were released. To do any
harm these darts had to score a direct hit on some living object, so
that a whole canister of them was probably a less formidable weapon than
a bomb. Even on a battle-field life is sparsely distributed on the
ground.
There was hardly any fighting in the air during the battle of the Aisne,
and reconnaissance machines were not attacked by other aeroplanes. They
were fired at from the ground by anti-aircraft artillery. The
anti-aircraft guns got their name of 'Archies' from a light-hearted
British pilot, who when he was fired at in the air quoted a popular
music-hall refrain--'Archibald, certainly not!' The Germans used kite
balloons for observation. In the attempt to drop a bomb on one of these
Lieutenant G. W. Mapplebeck was attacked, on the 22nd of September, by a
German Albatross, and was wounded in the leg. He was the first of our
pilots to be wounded in the air from an enemy aeroplane--a long list it
was to be.
The Royal Flying Corps were few indeed in comparison with the air forces
opposed to them, but they were full of zeal and initiative. On the 19th
of September they received a valued compliment from the French General
Staff, who asked the British Commander-in-Chief to permit them to carry
out reconnaissances along the front of the Fifth French Army. This was
already being done, but Sir David Henderson promised to take measures to
make the reconnaissance more complete.
In the battle of the Aisne the British forces were co-operating with
General Maunoury's Sixth French Army on their left. The so-called race
for the sea was, in fact, a race for the flank of the opposing army. On
the 20th of September De Castelnau's army formed up on the left of
Maunoury and at first made some progress, but was pushed back by the
reinforced army of General von Buelow, and was held on a line extending
from Ribecourt on the Oise to Albert. On the 30th of September General
Maud'huy's army came into position on the left of De Castelnau, along a
line extending from Albert to Lens, while at the same time cavalry and
territorials occupied Lille and Douai on the German right. This army in
its turn was opposed by the German Sixth Army sent up from Metz, which
pushed the French behind Arras, occupied Lens and Douai, and began to
shell Lille. General Maud'huy could do no more than fight to hold his
ground till another army should come to his relief on his left. For this
purpose the British army was shifted from the Aisne to its natural
position in defence of the Channel ports, and came into action along a
line extending northwards from La Bassee. The actual line was fixed by
a series of fierce engagements culminating in the battles of Ypres,
1914.
The Allied plan was to hold the French and Belgian coast and to take the
offensive in the north. With this purpose in view the Seventh Division
of the British army and the Third Cavalry Division, both of which came
under the command of Sir Henry Rawlinson, were disembarked, from the 6th
of October onward, at Zeebrugge and Ostend. But Antwerp was taken by the
Germans on the 9th of October, and the first business of this famous
force was to cover the Belgian retreat along the coast. The German
Fourth Army was being rapidly pushed forward into Belgium; Lille
capitulated on the 13th of October; Zeebrugge and Ostend were occupied
by the Germans on the 15th. Still the idea of a counter-offensive was
not abandoned, and the works and defences of Zeebrugge were left intact
in the hope of its speedy recapture. On the night of the 1st of October
the British army had begun to move northwards from the Aisne. By the 9th
of October the British Second Corps had detrained at Abbeville and
received orders to march on Bethune; on the 12th the Third Corps began
detraining and concentrating at St.-Omer and Hazebrouck, and
subsequently moved up to Bailleul and Armentieres. A week later, on the
19th, the First Corps under Sir Douglas Haig detrained at Hazebrouck and
moved on Ypres. General Headquarters left Fere-en-Tardenois on the 8th
of October and after a five-days' stay at Abbeville established
themselves at St.-Omer.
The Royal Flying Corps had moved north with the British Expeditionary
Force, from Fere-en-Tardenois by way of Abbeville, to St.-Omer, where
they were established by the 12th of October. No. 2 Squadron remained
behind for a few days, to carry on with Sir Douglas Haig's corps on the
Aisne, but joined up at St.-Omer on the 17th of October. In addition to
the four original squadrons, No. 6 Squadron, newly arrived from England
under Major J. H. W. Becke, came under Brigadier-General Henderson's
orders on the 16th of October. This squadron had been stationed at South
Farnborough as a reserve for the squadrons in the field. When General
Rawlinson's force was sent to Ostend, to attempt the relief of Antwerp,
Lord Kitchener said, 'I want a squadron to go with it'. He ordered that
No. 6 Squadron should be ready in forty-eight hours. The squadron was
hastily completed; some pilots and machines were obtained from the
Central Flying School; some machines were bought from private firms;
equipment, tools, and the like were collected at night; and on the 7th
of October the squadron flew to Bruges and began at once to carry out
reconnaissances. On the following day they flew to Ostend, and, their
transport having arrived, were concentrated on the racecourse. Five days
later they retired to Dunkirk, and by the 16th of October were
established at Poperinghe, where they came under the orders of
headquarters at St.-Omer.
A good deal of reconnaissance was carried on by the squadrons during the
northward move of the army. On the 29th of September unusual and heavy
movement in a northerly and north-westerly direction had been observed
behind the enemy lines on the Aisne. On the 1st of October air
reconnaissances showed that the trenches in front of the British First
Army Corps were unoccupied or very lightly held, and during the next few
days there were many indications that one or two German army corps were
being withdrawn to the north. Meantime the enemy took more trouble than
usual to interfere with our aircraft, and employed an increased number
of anti-aircraft guns. In the north our strategic reconnaissances were
not so successful, and the formidable enemy movement against the Ypres
line developed undetected. Not many aeroplanes were available at this
time for the wider sort of strategic reconnaissance. Nos. 2, 3, and 5
Squadrons had been attached, by an order issued on the 1st of October,
to the First, Second, and Third Army Corps respectively, while No. 4
Squadron was detailed for strategical reconnaissance. The General
Officers Commanding army corps had learned the value of aeroplanes and
demanded their assistance. Much of the country over which they were
operating in Northern France and Flanders was flat and enclosed,
unsuitable either way for cavalry reconnaissance.
Long-distance work was done chiefly from headquarters. On the 3rd of
October, when the situation at Antwerp had become critical,
Lieutenant-Colonel F. H. Sykes flew direct to Bruges from
Fere-en-Tardenois, with a message from Sir John French to the Belgian
Chief of Staff at Antwerp. On the following day he returned and reported
that the Germans had broken through the south-eastern sector of the
outer defences of Antwerp, that the Belgians were awaiting help, and
that they might possibly hold out for two or three weeks. In forwarding
the report to Lord Kitchener Sir John French adds, 'The relief of
Antwerp I regard as my first objective'. This mission was followed by
others, and a few days later Sir John French speaks of reports which he
is receiving daily by air from General Rawlinson.
Meantime a squadron of the Royal Naval Air Service, as shall be told in
the next chapter, had been operating for some weeks from Ostend and
Dunkirk with French territorial forces. The French territorials were
hastily embodied troops taken from civilian life and were not of much
use for a fight against odds. When the Seventh Division was landed at
Ostend and Zeebrugge during the first week of October, and the
improvised British Naval Division arrived at Antwerp, the situation was
already out of hand. The British army was small; it had helped to save
Paris, and now paid the price in the loss of the Belgian coast. The
Seventh Division occupied Ghent, and after covering the retreat of the
Belgian army, which halted along the line of the Yser, from Dixmude to
Nieuport, fell back by way of Roulers to a position east of Ypres. When
the whole British force came into line, it held a front of some
thirty-five miles, with Maud'huy's Tenth French Army on its right across
the Bethune-Lille road. On its left the line was held, from a point
north of Ypres to the sea, by the Belgian army, assisted by four French
cavalry divisions under General De Mitry.
The German army had failed to take Paris; all its efforts were now
concentrated on the seizure of the Channel ports, and its pressure on
the defending line was like the pressure of a great rising head of
waters against the gates of a lock. The glory of the defence belongs to
the infantry. The men who flew above them could only watch them and help
them with eyes. The infantry were often unconscious of this help; they
disliked seeing hostile observers above them and often fired on
aeroplanes with very little distinction made between friends and foes.
On the 26th of October Major G. H. Raleigh, of No. 4 Squadron, reports
an artillery reconnaissance as follows: 'Hosking and Crean did a
tactical reconnaissance early, but were unable to locate batteries owing
to clouds. They went up later and did it. The clouds were low, so it was
arranged that they should fly over one of our batteries to observe for
ranging. The machine came down in flames and was completely demolished.
Pilot and passenger had both been wounded by our own infantry fire when
at a height of about a thousand feet with the large Union Jack plainly
visible.'
Wing Commander W. D. Beatty tells how, before this time, the
disadvantage of the Union Jack marking on the planes was becoming
evident. The officer in command of an aviation camp at Paris had pointed
out to him that, at a height, only the red cross of the Union Jack was
clearly visible, and that it was mistaken by the French for the German
marking. A suggestion was made that the British should adopt the French
circular marking. The mishap of the 26th of October hastened the
adoption of this suggestion, and thereafter the French target was
painted on British aeroplanes, with the alteration only of blue for red
and red for blue, to preserve national distinctions.
Commanding officers sometimes complained that our machines were little
in evidence. The aeroplane observers, operating over enemy territory,
reported to their own command, and their reports, forwarded to the
proper quarters, took effect in the orders issued by Headquarters, so
that crucial improvements were sometimes made in our dispositions, by
information obtained from the air, though the infantry had seen no
machine in the air above them. The use of machines for more local needs,
such as artillery ranging, hastened the recognition of the services
rendered by the Flying Corps, and brought it into closer touch with the
other arms. Photographic cameras and fittings were still very imperfect,
and photography from the air was not much practised, but sketch-maps of
enemy trenches and gun-pits, as located by air reconnaissances, were
issued by Headquarters during the battle of Ypres. Good work was done in
directing the fire of the artillery, and the few wireless machines were
much in demand. A telegram sent on the 28th of October from Sir Horace
Smith-Dorrien to the Royal Flying Corps headquarters runs: 'Can you send
us a second machine, with wireless installation, for use to-morrow? The
aeroplane now working without wireless with Fifth Division has more to
do than it can accomplish owing to observation being required for French
artillery as well as our own.' But the wireless machine was required by
the First Corps, at the northern end of the line, and a machine without
wireless was sent instead.
The deadly and effective method of directing artillery fire on hostile
batteries by means of wireless telegraphy played a great part in winning
the war, but for the first battle of Ypres the wireless machines were
not ready in quantity. The penalty which had to be paid for this
unreadiness was heavy. Precious shells, which were all too few, had to
be expended for ranging purposes. On the 4th of November Lord Kitchener
wired to Sir John French: 'I have been talking to David Henderson about
giving more observation to artillery by aeroplanes. As this saves the
ranging ammunition, which is worth anything to us, please insist upon
it.' Failing wireless, other methods of ranging had to be employed.
These methods had been set forth in an official paper issued on the 28th
of October. The aeroplane flies at any convenient height and when it is
exactly above the target it fires a Very light. The battery
range-finders, who have been following its course, then take its range
and another observer with the battery takes its angle of elevation.
These two observations are sufficient to determine the horizontal
distance between the battery and the target. It was sometimes found
difficult to take the range of an aeroplane, at a given moment, with an
ordinary range-finder, and an alternative method of ranging is
suggested. By this method the aeroplane flies at a prearranged height,
and, as before, fires a light exactly over the target. But this method
also is liable to error, for an aeroplane determines its height by the
use of a barometer, and barometers are only approximately accurate for
this purpose. So it was suggested that the two methods should be
combined: the aeroplane should endeavour to fly at a fixed height, and
the range-finders should, if possible, also make their calculations.
These methods cannot attain to the accuracy of wireless, but they were
found in practice to give fairly good results. They were not quickly or
generally adopted; many battery commanders continued to prefer the
reports of their trained ground observers to the indications given from
the air. When wireless machines were increased in number, artillery
observation from the air came into its own. In a report dated the 5th of
February 1915, Brigadier-General Stokes, commander of the 27th
Divisional Artillery, lays stress on the enormous advantages of
wireless. He says that the 116th Heavy Battery of the Royal Garrison
Artillery, which had at its disposal an aeroplane equipped with a lamp,
had succeeded in registering only three targets in fifteen days, whereas
the 130th Howitzer Battery, which had a share in the services of a
wireless aeroplane, had registered eight targets in seven days. The
disadvantages of the older and cruder method are many; a thin mist which
does not prevent the aeroplane from observing the target is enough to
prevent signalling to the battery; the lamp is difficult to use on a
rough day, and difficult to read against the sun; the aeroplane has to
be kept under continual observation by the battery. To get better value
out of our artillery, the general concludes, the wireless service must
be largely increased.
Reconnaissance from the air was much impeded, during the second half of
October, by low clouds and bad weather, but enough was observed to give
some forecast of the tremendous attack that was impending. The Germans
outnumbered the British three or four times, and threw their whole
weight, now against one part, and now against another, of the thin line
of infantry fighting in mud and water. Those who would judge the battle
will find no escape from the dilemma; either the British defence,
maintained for thirty-four days, from the 19th of October to the 21st of
November, against an army which esteemed itself the best army in the
world, must be given a high and honourable place among the great
military achievements of history, or the German army was disgraced by
its defeat. But the German army was a good army, and was not disgraced.
The Germans themselves respected their enemy, on the ground and in the
air. On the 21st of November, at the close of the battle of Ypres, two
German second lieutenants of the air corps, called Fribenius and Hahn,
were taken prisoner near Neuve-Chapelle, and were examined. They said
that the performances of British aeroplanes had caused instructions to
be issued that a British aeroplane was to be attacked whenever
encountered. British aeroplanes, they said, were easily distinguishable
from others, for they always showed fight at once. What prisoners say
under examination is not evidence, but this early tribute to the
fighting quality of the Royal Flying Corps is repeated in many later
testimonies.
The crisis of the battle of Ypres came on the 31st of October, when the
line of the First Division was broken and the left flank of the Seventh
Division exposed, at Gheluvelt, some six miles east of Ypres. The
counter-attack by the First Guards Brigade and the famous bayonet charge
of the Second Worcestershire Regiment retook Gheluvelt, and
re-established the line. The last act of the long agony came on the 11th
of November, when a great attack was delivered all along the line. The
place of honour on the Ypres-Menin road was given to two brigades of the
Prussian Guard Corps, who had been brought up from Arras for the
purpose. The First Division of the British army met this attack at its
heaviest point of impact, and by the close of the day the Prussians had
gained five hundred yards of ground at the cost of enormous losses. The
story of the battle belongs to military history; the loss and profit
account can be summarized in two facts. The First Brigade, which met the
Prussian spearhead, was taken back into reserve on the following day. It
had gone into the battle four thousand five hundred strong; on the 12th
of November there remained, of the First Scots Guards, one officer and
sixty-nine men; of the Black Watch, one officer and a hundred and nine
men; of the Cameron Highlanders, three officers and a hundred and forty
men; of the First Coldstream Guards, no officers and a hundred and fifty
men. This is not a list of the surrendered remnant of an army: it is a
list of some of the victors of Ypres. The other fact is no less
significant; after a week of fighting the German attack fainted and
died, and when the next great assault upon the Ypres salient was
delivered, in April 1915, it was led not by the Prussian Guard but by
clouds of poison-gas.
No extraordinary or signal services were rendered by the Flying Corps
during the crises of the battle. The weather was bad, and on some days
flying was impossible. Yet by every flight knowledge was increased. When
the British troops arrived in Flanders and were sent at once into the
battle, the country in front of them was unknown. The dispositions of
the enemy forces were not even guessed at. Then by the aid of the Flying
Corps the enemy's batteries were mapped out, his trench lines observed
and noted, his railheads and his roads watched for signs of movement.
The reports received just before the battle do not, it is true, indicate
the whole volume of movement that was coming towards the Ypres area. The
newly raised reserve corps which formed part of the German Fourth Army,
the transport of which to the western front began on the 10th of
October, were not definitely seen from the air until just before the
battle. But observers' reports did indicate that many troops were
moving on the Ypres front, and once battle was joined enemy movements
were fully reported on.
When at the end of October the Belgian army mortgaged great tracts of
their ground for many years by opening the canal sluices and letting in
the sea, the Germans were enabled to divert the Third Reserve Corps
southwards. The movements of troops from this area were observed by the
Royal Flying Corps, and General Headquarters on the 1st of November
issued this summary: 'The coast road from Ostend to Nieuport was
reported clear this morning, and there are indications generally of a
transference of troops from the north of Dixmude southwards.' Again,
when the attack on Ypres had failed and died away, the Germans
transferred many troops from the western to the eastern front; these
movements also were seen by the Royal Flying Corps, who reported on the
20th of November an abnormal amount of rolling stock at various stations
behind the German front. 'The rolling stock formerly parked on the
Ostend-Thourout and Ostend-Roulers lines has evidently been broken up',
says General Headquarters Intelligence Summary for the 20th of November,
'and distributed to a number of stations along the Lys and in the area
immediately north of it, which would be suitable points of entrainment
for the forces in that district.... This redistribution of the rolling
stock, together with the apparent reduction in motor transport, would
seem to point to some important movement away from this immediate
theatre being in contemplation.' Air reports for the following day
proved that much movement eastwards had already taken place.
Throughout the battle tactical reconnaissances had been maintained to a
depth of from fifteen to twenty miles behind the German lines. There
were some few fights in the air, and a little bombing, but observation
was still the principal duty of the Royal Flying Corps. They were
greatly privileged; at a time when our people at home knew nothing of
what the army was doing, they, and they alone, witnessed the battle of
Ypres.
They would gladly have done more. Many of them had been infantry
officers, and were eager to lend a hand to the infantry in that heroic
struggle, but they lacked the means. Not until the summer of 1916 were
they able, by organized attacks from the air, to help to determine the
fortunes of a battle.
With the close of the battle there came a lull in the fighting. This
lull continued throughout the dark and damp of the first winter, and the
interest of the war in the air shifts to the preparations which were
being pressed forward at home for renewing the war during 1915 on a
larger scale and with better material.
One incident which occurred just after the battle of Ypres shall here be
narrated; it serves to illustrate how the air work of the Germans may
sometimes have been impeded by a certain defect of sympathy in the
German officer class. German two-seater machines were commonly piloted
by non-commissioned officers, who took their orders from the officer in
the observer's seat. On the 22nd of November Lieutenants L. A. Strange
and F. G. Small, of No. 5 Squadron, were returning from a
reconnaissance, flying at a height of about seven thousand feet. Their
machine, an Avro, with an 80 horse-power Gnome engine, carried a Lewis
gun, which had been mounted by them, against orders, on rope tackle of
their own devising, just above the observer's seat. In the air they met
a new German Albatross with a 100 horse-power Mercedes engine. They
showed fight at once. Diving from a height of five hundred feet above
the German machine, and at right angles to its line of flight, they
turned underneath it and flew along with it, a little in front and less
than a hundred feet below. From this position, which they maintained
while both machines made two complete turns in the air, they were able
to empty two drums of ammunition into the German machine. After the
second drum the German pilot lost his nerve, and the machine
side-slipped away and down, landing behind our lines, close to
Neuve-Eglise. There were twenty bullet-holes in the German machine, but
the pilot and observer were both uninjured. The British officers landed
close by, to claim their prisoners. The German observer, a commissioned
officer, took little notice of them; as soon as his machine landed he
jumped out of it, and dragging the partner of his dangers and triumphs
out of the pilot's seat, knocked him down, and began to kick him heavily
about the body. If ever a collection of incidents shall be made, under
the title 'How the War was Lost and Won', to illustrate the causes of
things, this little drama will deserve a place in it.