Air Warfare

WILLIAM C. SHERMAN

Major Air Corps, United States Army; Airplane Pilot; Instructor in

Air Tactics at the Command and General Staff School,

Fort Leavenworth

Reprint Edition

Introduction

by

Col Wray R. Johnson

Air University Press

Maxwell Air Force Base, Alabama

March 2002
Disclaimer

Opinions, conclusions, and recommendations expressed or implied within are solely those of

the author and do not necessarily represent the views of Air University, the United States Air

Force, the Department of Defense, or any other US government agency. Cleared for public

release: distribution unlimited.

ii

y y gg 

Sherman, William Carrington, 1888–1927

Air warfare / William C. Sherman ; introduction by Wray R. Johnson.

––Reprinted ed.

p. cm.

Originally published: New York : The Ronald Press Co., 1926.

With a new introduction.

Includes index.

Contents: Some principles in air warfare––The characteristics of aircraft––

Individual combats and defensive formations––The service of observation––Pursuit

aviation––Attack aviation––Bombardment aviation––Antiaircraft defense––Notes on air

logistics––Naval aviation.

ISBN 1-58566-104-X

1. Aeronautics, Military. 2. Air warfare. I. Johnson, Wray R. II. Title.

358.4––dc21

Air University Press

131 West Shumacher Avenue

Maxwell AFB AL 36112-6615
Introduction

In the iconography of early American airpower history, certain figures stand out: William "Billy" Mitchell, Henry H. "Hap"

Arnold, and Carl A. "Tooey" Spaatz perhaps foremost. But

lesser-known figures, some virtually forgotten today, had considerable influence on the development of airpower thought,

doctrine, and organization. One of these men was William C.

Sherman, the author of Air Warfare. Sherman was present

when the foundations were laid and played a significant if not

a major role in the construction of the United States (US) Army

Air Corps until his tragic death in 1927—a year after his book

was published. Sherman was more intellectual in his advocacy and less zealous in his approach, which may account for

his lack of notoriety. Not surprisingly then, although not as

well known as Mitchell’s Winged Defense, Sherman’s book was

more rigorous in its approach and balanced in its argument.

In that light it is interesting to note that the only American

work quoted by marshal of the Royal Air Force, J.C. Slessor,

in his benchmark 1936 airpower study, Air Power and Armies,

was William C. Sherman’s Air Warfare.

William Carrington Sherman (or "Bill" as he was typically

known) was born on 5 May 1888 in Augusta, Georgia. He

graduated from high school at age 15, and after two years at

the University of Georgia, he received an appointment to the

US Military Academy at West Point in 1906. Characterized as

quiet and unassuming, Bill Sherman was also described as

having one of the "keenest minds" in his class. His motto was,

"If anything is worth doing at all it is worth doing well." He

once upbraided a fellow underclassman for insubordination—

for which he became famous in the Corps of Cadets. But he

had a rebellious side also and was reported to have walked

more than the average number of punishment tours. He was

an officer of the Dialectic Society and served on the board of

governors of the 1st Classman’s Club, played polo, and sang

with the chorus and Glee Club. As related in his class yeariii
book, Bill Sherman expressed an early interest in 

aerial navigation." While at West Point, he struck up a friendship with

another cadet, Thomas DeW. Milling, who would, years later,

introduce Sherman to the thrill of powered flight. Sherman

graduated third in a class of 83 on 15 June 1910, after which

he was assigned to the Corps of Engineers. He served for a little over a year as an apprentice of sorts to civilian engineers at

Rock Island, Illinois; Memphis, Tennessee; Pittsburgh,

Pennsylvania; and, in Panama. In 1911, he was ordered to the

engineer school at College Park, Maryland, whereupon he

renewed his friendship with Milling, who was then posted to

the fledgling aviation school located there. Thus, upon his

arrival at College Park, Sherman appeared on the scene at a

time when military aviation was still in its infancy and yet

poised on the brink of explosive growth.

Military aviation had begun in the United States early in the

Civil War when Federal forces used captive balloons for observation. During the war, balloons were under the control, at

one time or another, of the topographic engineers of the Army,

the quartermaster, the Corps of Engineers, and for one day at

least, the Signal Corps. Between 1863 and 1889, there were

no military balloon operations in the United States, but in

1890, the Congress gave specific responsibility for collecting

and transmitting information for the US Army to the Signal

Corps. Shortly afterward, the chief signal officer, Brig Gen

Adolphus Greely, requested funding to establish a balloon

corps to support this purpose, and in 1892, a balloon section

was created. Following the loss of the lone balloon purchased

from the French in 1891, a second balloon was constructed at

Fort Logan, Colorado, by Sgt William Ivy (a well-known stunt

balloonist) and his wife. This balloon was used on several

occasions during the Spanish-American War, to include

adjusting artillery fire at the battle of San Juan Hill. By 1906,

when Bill Sherman entered the military academy, the Signal

Corps possessed eight balloons. Two years later, the Army

would acquire its first rigid airship and that same year its first

heavier-than-air flying machine.

Orville and Wilbur Wright had successfully inaugurated

motor-driven, heavier-than-air flight on 17 December 1903 at

iv
Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. Although ignored by the Army

despite repeated attempts by the brothers to attract their

attention, President Theodore Roosevelt took note of the brothers’ accomplishment in 1906 when foreign governments

expressed serious interest in the Wright machine. The president ordered Secretary of War William Howard Taft to investigate the military potential of the Wright flyer. The Wrights

offered the use of a similar machine and instructions on how

to fly it for $100,000, which they later reduced to $25,000.

Convinced of its potential, the Signal Corps chief, Brig Gen

James Allen, subsequently issued specifications for a military

heavier-than-air craft and solicited additional bids. Forty-one

bids were received, but only three complied with the specifications stipulated, and the Wright brothers secured the contract

after the other two bidders failed to deliver a machine on the

date specified in the solicitation. The Wright Army airplane

was delivered at Fort Meyer, Virginia, on 20 August 1908. On

9 September 1908, Lt Frank Lahm, an experienced balloonist,

became the first Army officer to fly as a passenger in an airplane, lifting off from the parade ground at Fort Meyer. Eight

days later, Lt Thomas Selfridge, who had himself earlier

designed and flown an experimental aircraft for the Aerial

Experiment Association, became the first military aviation

fatality when the Wright airplane crashed with Orville Wright

at the controls. 

In 1909, the Wright brothers delivered an improved machine

to the Army, the Wright A airplane. Trials continued until the

final test flight was conducted on 30 July 1909, with Orville

Wright at the controls and Lt Benjamin Foulois, another balloonist, as observer and navigator on what has been billed as

the first cross-country flight—from Fort Meyer to Alexandria,

Virginia, a distance of 10 miles. Afterward, Lieutenants Lahm

and Foulois were selected by General Allen to be trained as the

first Army pilots at the civilian airfield at College Park, Fort

Meyer’s small drill field being regarded as unsafe for beginners. Foulois, however, was later selected as an official delegate to the International Congress of Aeronautics in Nancy,

France, and was replaced by 2d Lt Fredric Humphreys of the

Corps of Engineers. Humphreys would make the first military

v
solo flight on 26 October 1909, but Lahm was the first military

flyer to receive a Féderation Aéronautique Internationale (FAI)

Airplane Pilot Certificate (No. 2, the first being issued to the

civilian aviation pioneer, Glenn Curtiss. Ironically, Orville and

Wilbur Wright, who had designed, built, and flown the first

successful airplane, were issued certificates No. 4 and No.5,

respectively).

At the time, Army regulations permitted line officers to be

detached to other duties for only four consecutive years. As a

result, Lieutenants Lahm and Humphreys—the only two officers to have soloed thus far—were forced to return to the cavalry and the engineers, respectively. This left only one pilot:

Lieutenant Foulois, a Signal Corps officer who had not soloed

and had only a few hours of flight time under his belt. In the

winter of 1910, the year Bill Sherman graduated from West

Point, Signal Corps airplane No. 1, Foulois, and several enlisted

men moved to Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, Texas, in

search of better flying weather. Earlier in 1907, an Aeronautical

Division had been established within the Office of the Signal

Corps, but during Foulois’ tour in Texas, the division was

unable to generate sufficient funding for aviation, and flying

operations were suspended after only a few flights. Early in

1911, however, Robert Collier, owner of Collier’s magazine,

bought a new Wright Type B airplane and "leased" it for $1.00

per month to the Army. Flight operations in San Antonio

resumed in February 1911. A month later, Congress made its

first appropriation for Army aviation: $125,000 for the year

1912 (that same year the Congress appropriated $25,000 for the

US Navy which provided for the purchase of three airplanes, the

beginning of naval aviation). With adequate funding secured, the

Signal Corps promptly ordered five airplanes—three Wright

Type Bs and two Curtiss types. Both companies provided

instructors as part of the package.

At the time, Congress approved the appropriation for Army

aviation, 18 officers had volunteered for aeronautical duty and

began receiving instruction at Fort Sam Houston. They were

not, however, relieved of their regular duties and were required

to fly in their spare time. But following an accident in which Lt

G.E.M. Kelly was killed, the Maneuver Division commander

vi
suspended flying. Nevertheless, the Signal Corps had renewed

flying training back at College Park, whereupon a Curtiss

plane and a Wright B plane were transferred from Texas to the

new school. Fortunately, for the officers soon to be assigned to

the College Park school, flying would be a full-time occupation.

In May 1911, when Bill Sherman was concluding his engineering apprenticeship in Panama, 2d Lt Arnold and 2d Lt

Milling were ordered to the Wright Company’s flying School in

Dayton, Ohio, for instruction. Shortly after soloing, both officers reported for duty to College Park, where they received FAI

certificates No. 29 and No. 30, respectively. Bill Sherman left

Panama and, after a brief stay in Pittsburgh, arrived at the

Engineer Corps special service school at College Park.

Sherman and Milling renewed their friendship from West

Point, and although the chief of engineers attempted to dissuade him, Sherman began flight instruction with Milling during off-duty hours and on Saturdays. 

With winter approaching, the War Department selected

Augusta, Georgia—Bill Sherman’s hometown—as the winter

site of the aviation school. In November, five officers, including

Lieutenants Milling and Arnold, 20 enlisted soldiers, and four

airplanes were moved to Augusta. The officers were quartered

in a hotel, the enlisted men in a nine-room house on a local

farm, and the airplanes were sheltered in canvas tent hangars.

Flying began in December. During this period, Sherman took

Christmas leave and traveled to Augusta, where he received

further flight instruction from Lieutenant Arnold. Thoroughly

bitten by the flying bug, and having graduated from the engineer School in June, Sherman promptly applied for aviation

duty, whereupon he was detached from the Engineers and

reported to College Park in September 1912. Although

Sherman had passed the FAI test in July and received his certificate on 7 August 1912 (No. 151), he arrived at College Park

as a student. By the end of 1911, the Army had concluded

that a military aviator rating was required to reflect a standard

of skill higher than that of the FAI test. Instructions were subsequently published stating that only when a student had

passed the military test was he to be awarded the rating of military aviator and considered to be a graduate of the school.

vii
The first certificates were issued in July 1912 to Lieutenants

Arnold and Milling and to Capt Charles DeF. Chandler,

another pioneer aviator. Regrettably, owing to his later

wartime and other staff service, Bill Sherman was unable to

fulfill his flight instruction and never tested for the military

aviator rating.

In November 1912, flying training moved again to Augusta,

but poor weather prevented flight operations, and mechanical

problems plagued the five airplanes that had been moved to the

winter site. Flight instruction resumed in February 1913, but

that same month Captain Chandler was ordered to move all personnel and equipment as quickly as possible to Texas City,

Texas, near Galveston, because of increased tensions between

the United States and Mexico stemming from the revolution that

had erupted there in 1910, when the government of Porfirio Díaz

Mory had collapsed. Employing a special train of 11 cars, five

officers, including Sherman, 21 enlisted men, all of the airplanes, and associated equipment were moved to Texas City,

arriving on 2 March 1913. Attached to the Army’s 2d Division,

this "concentration" of aviation for tactical purposes prompted

the chief signal officer, Brig Gen George Scriven, to suggest to the

chief of staff that a provisional unit be formed. The War

Department approved this measure, and on 5 March 1913, the

First Aero Squadron was organized at Texas City. The squadron

later would become the first air combat unit in the US Army

when, under the command of Captain Foulois, the squadron

took part in Brig Gen John J. Pershing’s punitive expedition

against Francisco "Pancho" Villa in 1916– 17.

It was during his stay in Texas City that Bill Sherman

entered the record books. Early in March, he and Milling had

flown to Houston and returned (some 80 miles) in a Burgess

airplane. On 28 March, Sherman and Milling flew another

Burgess airplane to San Antonio, a distance of over 200 miles,

starting at 2:15 P.M. and arriving at 5:35 P.M. Upon arrival,

they circled for over an hour, thus establishing a new

American endurance record of four hours and 22 minutes. The

return flight was made in three hours and 40 minutes. During

this record-breaking flight, Sherman sketched a map, including all of the essential military features such as railroads,

viii
bridges, roads, towns, and other topographical points of interest. The map was made in sections six inches long, unrolled

as an interval was traversed every 10 minutes, and used bearings taken from a compass. The entire map was 10 feet in

length and was the first map ever to be made from an airplane

from a pilot’s perspective and to cover such a distance. Aerial

operations continued, but with tensions between the United

States and Mexico reduced, the squadron was disbanded, and

most of the personnel and equipment moved to North Island,

near San Diego, California. 

In December 1913, General Orders 79 designated the facility at North Island the Signal Corps Aviation School, placing it

among the Army’s service schools. However, in October, before

he could resume his training, Bill Sherman, along with

Captain Chandler and Lieutenants Lahm and Arnold, were

returned to troop duty. Milling remained attached to aviation

duty and was sent to France to observe European aviation.

Having returned to the Corps of Engineers, Sherman served as

a company commander and as the adjutant of an independent

Engineer Battalion in Texas and Mexico. In July 1916, he

organized and commanded Company A, 1st Battalion of

mounted engineers, and acted as the division engineer of the

Cavalry Division. When the United States entered the war in

Europe in 1917, Sherman was sent overseas in July as the

aide-de-camp to Maj Gen W. L. Sibert, commander of the 1st

Division. While in France, he attended the General Staff

College of the American Expeditionary Force (AEF) in

November, subsequently served a brief stint with British

forces, and then returned to the 1st Division as Assistant

Chief of Staff, G-2. He remained in this post until July 1918,

when he was promoted to the temporary grade of lieutenant

colonel and was detailed to 3d Corps as assistant chief of staff.

He served on the Marne, the Vesle, and in the Meuse-Argonne

until October, when he was reassigned to aviation duty as the

chief of staff, First Army Air Service, under his old friend

Milling, who was now a colonel succeeding Brig Gen Billy

Mitchell as chief of Air Service, First Army.

In February 1918, the War Department created a historical

branch of the general staff to write a history of American

ix
involvement in the World War. Shortly afterward, General

Pershing, commander in chief of the AEF, established a historical unit in his general headquarters (GHQ) located at

Chamount-en-Bassigny. Subordinate units followed suit,

including the First Army. Senior aviation leaders believed a

comprehensive history of the Air Service in the war would

serve as a foundation for the future development of military

aviation in the Army. Col. Edgar S. Gorrell, who had graduated

two years after Sherman from West Point and had flown with

the First Aero Squadron during the punitive expedition in Mexico, was chosen to head up the effort. Various histories were

produced—corps air services, wings, groups, and squadrons—

but these narratives concentrated on such additional mundane matters as personnel and scheduling as opposed to combat operations. Gorrell believed a combat history was needed

and appointed Lt Col Sherman to the task.

The "Tactical History" was written by several unidentified

contributors and edited by Sherman. It comprised 157 singlespaced and typewritten pages, including 16 pages of appendices. The document was divided into six major sections. With

some minor modifications, the first part, "The Achievement of

the Air Service," ultimately served as the introduction to the

First Army Air Service "Final Report." The second part, concerning corps observations, was later published as an "Air

Service Information Circular" in 1920. The remainder of the

document concerned army observation, pursuit, bombardment, and balloon operations. The "Tactical History" was a

detailed examination of how combat operations were planned

and executed by the Air Service, with comments and criticisms

added by the authors. It remains useful today for students of

aerial operations during World War I.

At about the same time that he prepared the "Tactical

History," Sherman also wrote a "Tentative Manual for the

Employment of the Air Service," reflecting the experience

gained by the Air Service during the war and advancing the

first doctrinal work regarding aerial operations produced in

the United States. The "Tentative Manual" was revised as

"Notes on Recent Operations" and was forwarded to GHQ AEF

for publication. Although GHQ never published these notes, in

x
April 1919, a copy was sent to Washington, D.C., where it was

reproduced by the Information Group, Air Service, under the

same title. A year later, the notes were published as an "Air

Service Information Circular." With the success of the "Tactical

History" and "Notes on Recent Operations," Sherman established himself as a thinker as well as a competent airman.

Following the Armistice, he returned from France in March

1919 and was posted to Washington, D.C., as chief of training

in the Office of the chief of the Air Service. 

From the end of World War I to July 1926, when the US

Army Air Corps was created, the Air Service, at first headed by

Maj Gen Charles T. Menoher and later Maj Gen Mason M.

Patrick, labored to institutionalize aviation as an integral arm

of the Army by expanding the organization, formulating policy

and doctrine, and devising a training system. The Air Service

was organized along divisional lines consisting of Supply,

Information, Training and Operations, and Administrative

Groups, each headed by first through fourth assistants. The

Training and Operations Group was headed by Brig Gen Billy

Mitchell who had emerged from the war as a notorious and

zealous proponent for airpower and who had returned from

France believing that he would be the chief of the Air Service.

Mitchell’s subordination to General Menoher, an infantry officer, is often viewed as analogous to the subordination of military aviation to operations on the ground, a view that Mitchell

and others—including Sherman—were beginning to challenge. 

In a memo to Mitchell in 1919, Sherman astutely noted that

organizational structure influenced doctrine and therefore

training. Given that operations and training both resided in

the same group, Sherman expressed concern that any ambiguity regarding the distinction between the two functions

would have a deleterious effect on the wartime capability of

the Air Service. As it developed, the Training Division under

Sherman was made responsible for training of tactical units,

and the Operations Division prepared war plans. Subsequently, the 1st Wing, formed at Kelly Field in San Antonio,

Texas, in the summer of 1919, received guidance and information from the Training Division in the form of manuals,

pamphlets, and other materials, including Sherman’s "Notes

xi
on Recent Operations.

 Inevitably, however, some overlap

occurred, particularly with respect to writing training regulations, but the tight-knit nature of the Training and Operations

Group (which included Sherman’s old friend, Colonel Milling)

obviated the factionalism that would in all likelihood have

developed in a larger organization. Moreover, the officers were

for the most part veterans of the war and they regularly

exchanged views with one another in a manner that provided

the ferment for emergent airpower thinking in the coming

years. Not surprisingly, many of these ideas were contrary to

the official positions of the War Department, and officers not

similarly inclined took note. At one point, General Menoher’s

executive officer even suggested that Mitchell either sign a loyalty statement or relieve all of the division heads of their

responsibilities.

Nevertheless, Mitchell and his associates continued to

explore the possibilities of aviation as an instrument of war,

and Sherman was perhaps the first to articulate the indirect

nature of airpower. For Sherman, aviation forces had a twofold

mission: to attack the moral and material resources of the

enemy. Sherman reasoned that the key to victory on land was

to shatter the enemy’s morale. Victory in naval warfare, on the

other hand, was the product of destroying the enemy’s fleet

through the application of firepower. Aviation would play a

vital role in shattering the enemy army’s morale, thereby winning the ground war. Along with submarines, aircraft could be

used to attack and sink the enemy’s fleet, thereby gaining

command of the sea. In either case, aviation would prove decisive. Drawing in large measure upon Sherman’s thesis,

Mitchell met with the Navy’s General Board on 3 April 1919

and stated that aircraft could successfully attack warships

and further suggested that the defense of the United States

could be better accomplished by land-based aircraft. At the

same time, he urged the creation of a ministry of defense comprising an army, navy, and an independent air force under a

single head. Not surprisingly, Mitchell’s ideas were dismissed,

and he was not invited again to appear before the Navy’s

General Board. Regardless, Mitchell had laid down the gauntlet, and stimulated by the ideas generated by his officers, he

xii
had proceeded to inundate members of Congress and the

press with proposals regarding the future of aviation in the

United States. 

Reportedly under pressure from the War Department general staff, General Menoher reorganized the Office of the Chief

of Air Service in 1920, relieving Mitchell as chief of the

Training and Operations Group and appointing him as assistant chief of the Air Service—but giving him no specific duties.

Meanwhile, because of the rapid demobilization that had

occurred in 1919, the number of Air Service officers had

dropped from 20,000 to a small number of officers holding

regular commissions including many members of Mitchell’s

former staff. While Mitchell retained his rank by occupying a

statutory assignment, most Air Service officers were returned

to their permanent grade. Foulois, who had been promoted to

a wartime rank of brigadier general, was reduced to a captain

(but within a few months was promoted to major). At the same

time, Milling was reduced to the rank of Major, and Sherman

was reduced to his permanent grade of captain on 15 April

1920. Shortly afterward, Milling and Sherman were reassigned to the new Air Service Field Officers School, which the

War Department had authorized at Langley Field, Virginia, on

25 March 1920.

Under the direction of Major Milling, the Field Officers

School was charged with preparing field grade Air Service officers for higher command duty. But, owing to a shortage of

field grade officers, junior officers attended as well. On 1 July

1920, Sherman was transferred from the Corps of Engineers

to the Air Service and on that same date was promoted to

major. Upon his arrival at Langley Field, he was initially

appointed adjutant and chief of staff, 1st Provisional Air

Brigade, but in April, he was reassigned to the Field Officers

School, where he became Major Milling’s assistant. However,

he was later detached, and from 30 November 1922 to 22

February 1923, he served as a military advisor on aviation to

the Rules of War Commission of Jurists at The Hague,

Netherlands, after which he returned to the school at Langley

Field. Regarding Sherman’s service in Holland, in March 1923

the secretary of war received a letter from Judge John Bassett

xiii
Moore commending Sherman for his mastery of the topic of

aviation in both its practical and theoretical dimensions.

During its early years, the Air Service Field Officers School

remained small and only seven students graduated from the

first class. But the decision was made to send every air officer

to the school, and the numbers increased over the next several

years. Reflecting its new role as a primary training ground for

Air Service officers, the school underwent a name change in

November 1922, when it became the Air Service Tactical

School, and again in 1926, when the Air Service officially

became the US Army Air Corps, it became the Air Corps

Tactical School, which subsequently moved to Maxwell Field

near Montgomery, Alabama. 

Throughout the existence of the school, Mitchell’s ideas and

writings strongly influenced its curriculum development. In

1942, Brig Gen Laurence Kuter recalled that Milling and

Sherman had participated in Mitchell’s celebrated sinking of

the former German battleship Ostfriesland in the summer of

1921 and were dedicated "Mitchellites." Although true in the

main, as evidenced in the discussion of the Ostfriesland

"experiment" in his book Air Warfare, Sherman was in fact

considerably more judicious in his treatment and advocacy of

airpower concepts and there is some evidence that Mitchell

took Sherman’s ideas and enlarged upon them—often to the

point of hyperbole.

During his tour at the Air Corps Tactical School, Sherman

played a prominent role in developing the curriculum and

addressing tactics and techniques of pursuit, attack, and bombardment aviation, but more importantly, he wrote the foundation curriculum for lessons concerning the employment of air

forces. Sherman wrote the first textbook on these subjects in

1921. It was forwarded to Washington, D.C., and was issued

later as a policy statement in mimeographed form by the Air

Service as Training Regulation 440-15, Air Tactics. In a slightly

edited form in 1923, Sherman’s text was again issued as

Fundamental Principles for the Employment of the Air Service.

Finally, on 26 January 1926, after having been revising the text

to bring it more in line with mainstream Army thinking on the

xiv
matter, the War Department officially issued Training Regulation

440-15 as Army doctrine on aviation matters.

The original text was composed of six sections:

"Characteristics of Aircraft," "Fundamental Doctrine of the Air

Service," "Observation," "Attack," "Bombardment," and

"Pursuit Aviation." Reflecting Sherman’s earlier thoughts

regarding the moral dimension of land warfare, the text’s main

emphasis was on the human element in war and the psychological impact of airpower on enemy troops. Although the text

generally accepted the principle that air activity was in support of the ground battle, it also revealed Sherman’s emerging

strategic conception of airpower when it stated that Army aviation was composed of two distinct components: air service

aviation, essentially an auxiliary of the ground forces; and air

force aviation (bombardment, pursuit, and attack aviation),

which would seek to gain and exploit control of the air. To that

end, Sherman wrote: "In deriving the doctrine that must

underlie all principles of employment of the air force, we must

not be guided by conditions surrounding the use of ground

troops, but must seek out our doctrine . . . in the element in

which the air force operates" (Air Tactics, sec. 2, p. 7). But, in

the end, Sherman, like many other airmen of the time, was

sensitive to the political pitfalls of expressing these views too

forcefully—especially following Mitchell’s court-martial in

1925—and he found it necessary to generally conform to the

official views of the Army’s senior leadership regarding aviation, even though his own theoretical views were more akin to

those of Mitchell. This is not surprising when one considers

that as early as his plebe year at the academy, Sherman was

known for his subjection to higher authority.

The key to control of the air for Sherman was pursuit aviation. Pursuit aviation would seek out, and to the extent possible, destroy the enemy’s air force, especially enemy pursuit

aviation. Having achieved control of the air, the mission of the

air force was then to destroy the most important enemy targets on the surface. Sherman’s emphasis on pursuit aviation

and control of the air would later be echoed in Mitchell’s 1925

book, Winged Defense, in which Mitchell claimed, "It is upon

pursuit aviation that control of the air depends" (Winged

xv
Defense, p. 164). It was also Sherman

s views on pursuit aviation that received the laudatory attention of J.C. Slessor in

his 1936 book, Air Power and Armies. Mitchell’s emphasis on

bombardment aviation came later, when it became clear that

long-range bombardment was the key to achieving institutional independence for the air arm.

In September 1923, Major Sherman was ordered to the

Army’s Command and General Staff School at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. After graduating on 30 June 1924, he was

retained at the school as an instructor. Over the years,

Sherman had developed a reputation as not only an expert in

aviation topics but in military history as well. He put his

expertise to good use at the school as an instructor and later

when he set about to write his book, Air Warfare. As he states

in the preface, the book is based upon notes he wrote while an

instructor at the Air Service Tactical School and at the

Command and General Staff School. In that sense, Air Warfare

is the mature expression of Sherman’s thinking regarding military aeronautics. The first chapter capitalizes on Sherman’s

command of military history, revisiting the moral dimension of

war and linking the established principles of war to the emergent character of modern air warfare. The remaining chapters

address technical and tactical details regarding the primary

aviation missions of the time (observation, pursuit, attack,

and bombardment) but also include a discussion of antiaircraft defense (generally dismissed by other airpower theorists

of the time) and air logistics, as well as arguably the finest

treatment of naval aviation to emerge during the interwar

period. The book was published in 1926 by the Ronald Press

Company of New York as part of its Aeronautical Library. The

editor of the series was Charles DeF. Chandler, with whom

Sherman had served at Augusta and Texas City. The series

included other works on aeronautical topics, including Airmen

and Aircraft, by one of Sherman’s former instructor pilots, H.

H. Arnold. The book was groundbreaking in many ways and

amounted to a synthesis of Sherman’s experience and thinking on the subject of airpower, analyzing the full spectrum of

tactical and strategic applications of aviation, and thus markxvi
ing Sherman as one of the more intellectually flexible of the

early airpower theorists. 

The year that Air Warfare was published, Sherman was

struck by an unspecified and yet apparently painful illness.

On 22 November 1927, only six months after Charles A.

Lindbergh made his famous solo flight across the Atlantic and

ushered in a new age of aviation, Sherman died at the age of

39 and was buried in the National Cemetery at Fort

Leavenworth. His widow, Dixie Milling Sherman of New

Orleans, whom he had married only three years earlier, survived him. He was posthumously promoted to the permanent

grade of lieutenant colonel on 21 June 1930, retroactive to 22

November 1927. In 1928, his book was listed in War

Department Bulletin No. 44, "Reading Course for Officers." His

obituary in the Sixtieth Annual Report (1929) of the

Association of Graduates of the US Military Academy perhaps

best summed up the loss to the continuing development of

military airpower: "In spite of the brilliance of his record, those

of us who knew him best, felt that he was only at the threshold of his career . . . . The Army undoubtedly lost a brilliant

officer, one whose future promised much." 

Thus, the life of Bill Sherman spanned the genesis of heavier-than-air flight in the United States to the creation of the

US Army Air Corps. Along the way, Sherman served with and

under the command of some of the truly outstanding figures

in American military aviation history. The culmination of his

thinking on the subject of airpower on the eve of his sudden

death can be found in his book, Air Warfare. With that as

introduction, there is no better place to understand

Sherman’s thoughts on the subject than to read his work.

Wray R. Johnson

Marine Corps University

Quantico, Virginia

xvii
A I R WA R FA R E

By

WILLIAM C. SHERMAN

Major Air Corps, United States Army; Airplane Pilot; Instructor in

Air Tactics at the Command and General Staff School,

Fort Leavenworth

RONALD AERONAUTIC LIBRARY

C. DEF. CHANDLER, EDITOR

THE RONALD PRESS COMPANY

NEW YORK
Copyright, 1926, by

The Ronald Press Company

__________

All Rights Reserved
EDITORIAL PREFACE

Rudyard Kipling has been quoted as saying of aerial navigation: “We are at the opening verse of the opening page of the

chapter of endless possibilities.” No longer is there doubt as to

the practicability of flying. That was demonstrated by the

United States Air Mail; the commercial airlines in Europe and

South America; the crossings of the Atlantic Ocean by airplanes, seaplanes and airships; and finally the circumnavigation of the earth by airplane.

While the consequences to flow from man’s new power cannot yet be estimated, of this we may be certain: As the development within a few generations of railway, steamship, and

automobile has altered every relation of the world’s life, so the

possession at last of aircraft, enabling us to utilize the free and

universal highway provided by nature, must lead to effects

upon human activity no less wide and profound.

The need is widely felt already for a progressive literature

of aerial navigation. We need technical information for designers, engineers, and pilots and for the growing army of students. We need also discussions of the practical implications

of air navigation, for statesmen, economists, and representatives of industrial and commercial organizations whose interests and operations are affected by the new mode of transit.

The Ronald Aeronautic Library, a series of volumes by specialists able to speak with authority, supplies this information.

It is the purpose of the editor to keep the Library continually

abreast of every phase of aerial development.

The division into separate volumes is governed by the

needs of each branch of aeronautics. At the same time this

permits of frequent revisions to keep pace with the progress of

an expanding art. The arrangement of the text facilitates reference almost to the extent found in the standard engineering

handbooks. Information is not limited to American experience;

foreign sources are drawn upon freely.

C. DEF. CHANDLER,

Editor, Ronald Aeronautic Library

iii
AUTHOR’S PREFACE

In a work, which attempts to cover as broad a field as that

of air warfare, it is obviously impossible to give credit to the

many men whose ideas are embodied in the text. The author

has been fortunate enough to be thrown in contact with many

officers whose interest in air tactics has been profound.

Immediately following the Armistice in 1918, a group of such

men, all of whom had distinguished themselves in the various

branches of the air force in the World War, was assembled at

the headquarters of the American Expeditionary Force, for the

purpose of making a permanent record of their experiences,

and of their opinions on matters tactical. To these men the

author is indebted for giving generously of their time and of

their thought.

In the less strenuous days that have followed the war,

interest in air tactics has by no means been allowed to die out.

At the military service schools this subject is one of continuous

study and investigation. For several years various assignments have brought the author into close association with officers who were devoting much of their time to a study of the

many phases of the many phases of air warfare. To these he

ascribes whatever merits this volume may contain. 

While the material in this book has been prepared, in large

part, from the notes made by the author while an instructor at

the Air Service Tactical School and at the Command and

General Staff School, they are to be considered as purely personal opinions, and in no sense an official publication. 

W. C. SHERMAN.

Fort Leavenworth, Kansas,

September 10, 1926.

v
CONTENTS ______

CHAPTER I

PAGE

SOME PRINCIPLES OF AIR WARFARE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 

Human factor in war – Distinctive characteristics of air combat

– Shock action – Mass psychology – Principles of economy of

force, of the offensive, of security, and of simplicity.

CHAPTER II

THE CHARACTERISTICS OF AIRCRAFT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34

The Airplane: Design compromise – Speed – Useful load – Strength

– Speed and human factor – Rate of climb and ceiling –

Maneuverability – Performance factors – Power – Visibility –

Maintenance – Weather and darkness effects. The Balloon:

Description and operation. The Airship: Non-rigid, semi-rigid and

rigid types – Comparisons with airplanes.

CHAPTER III

INDIVIDUAL COMBATS AND DEFENSIVE FORMATIONS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65

Individual and mass air fighting – Aircraft machine guns and

ammunition – Fundamentals of airplane gunnery – Dead spaces

– Vulnerability – Single-seater combat – Loop – Tail-spin – Roll

– Immelman turn – Single-seater versus two-seater – Defensive

formations – Chains of formations.

CHAPTER IV

THE SERVICE OF OBSERVATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89

Airplane Observation: General effect on war – Influence and lessons of World War – Qualifications and position of the observer –

Tactical objectives – Effect of altitude and visibility –

Reconnaissance – Liaison, contact, artillery, and exceptional missions. Balloon Observation: Compared with airplane – Missions.

Airship Observation: Balloon and airship – Airplane and airship.

CHAPTER V

PURSUIT AVIATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117

Basic Mission – Control of the air – Cooperation – Air barrages

– Objectives – Formations – Attack of single airplane by a flight

– Combat between two pursuit flights – Pursuit flight versus

defensive formation – Squadron in attack – The group – command airplane – Interplane communication – The wing – The

brigade.

vii
CHAPTER VI

ATTACK AVIATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148

Characteristics of attack airplane – Fundamental mission –

Armament – Moral effect – Attack of column – Other targets –

Employment as a reserve – Aids cavalry.

CHAPTER VII

BOMBARDMENT AVIATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 178

Post-war progress – Bomb development: demolition, Armorpiercing, chemical, incendiary, smoke and gas – Fuses – Sights

– Tactical development – Objectives – Towns and cities – Supply

systems – Industrial centers – Lines of communication –

Overseas communications – Combat zone – Coast defense – Day

and night bombardment.

CHAPTER VIII

ANTIAIRCRAFT DEFENSE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 209

Importance – Cannon – Accuracy – Difficulties of firing –

Advantages and disadvantages – Harassing fire – Location of

guns – Missions of machine guns – Defense of columns –

Defense of a line and of areas – Listening apparatus –

Searchlights – Balloon barrages – Air force – Information service – Defense of airdromes.

CHAPTER IX

NOTES ON AIR LOGISTICS . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 232

Lessons of the World War – Airdromes – Personnel in movements of air units – Supply of units during movements –

Regulation of movements – Normal supply methods.

CHAPTER X

NAVAL AVIATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 241

Terminology – Points in common with army air forces –

naval aviation in World War – Naval aircraft characteristics –

Sea airdromes and carriers – Observation – Bombardment –

Tests in I92I – Stationary and moving targets – Bombers and

antiaircraft artillery – Protection by pursuit aviation – Plan of

defense – Service of information – Ruses – Air battle – Attack on

bombers – Inherent weakness of the defensive – Fleets having

balanced air forces – Chemical bombs – Night bombing –

Torpedo airplanes – Conclusions.

viii

CONTENTS

PAGE
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

______

FIGURE PAGE

1. Curtiss Navy Racer Airplane . . . . . . . . . . . . . . (Facing) 38

2. Pursuit Airplane, PW-8 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ''faci 39

3. Observation Airplane, the XO-2 . . . . . . . . . . . . ''faci 47

4. Bombardment Airplane, the NBS-I . . . . . . . . . ''faci 48

5. The Barling Bomber Airplane . . . . . . . . . . . . . ''faci 56

6. Principle of the Wind-Vane Sight . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72

7. Dead Spaces of the Two-Seater . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73

8. Curvilinear Flight . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77

9. Changes in Curvilinear Flight . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 78

10. The Tail-Spin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80

11. The Barrel Roll . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8I

12. The Immelman Turn . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 82

13. Plan of a Formation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85

14. Plan of a Nine-Plane Formation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86

15. Clock-Face System of Spotting Fall of Shots . . . . . . . . . 111

16. A Five-Plane Formation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130

ix
AIR WARFARE
CHAPTER I

SOME PRINCIPLES OF AIR WARFARE

Future development of war aircraft. To the student of

national defense no problem of today presses for solution so

urgently as that of determining the part that aircraft is to play

in warfare of the future. The question is one of great complexity, since it involves not alone the many arts and sciences that

have contributed to the development of aircraft, but also

necessitates an evaluation of the numerous other agencies of

war. Too many imponderable factors enter into the investigation to permit an exact delimitation of the rôle of the air force.

Nevertheless, it is essential that the broad outlines at least be

drawn, if a sound doctrine of national defense is to be constructed. It will be the aim of these chapters to describe in a

general way the powers and limitations of aircraft, and to indicate what may reasonably be expected of our airmen, when

the nation is again confronted with the necessity of waging

war.

It has been said that each war begins where the last war

ended. Many examples from history can be cited in support of

this dictum. Human nature is prone to be affected, sometimes

out of all proper proportion, by the experiences nearest in

point of time. It is, therefore, entirely natural that the military

student of any given period should become expert in the

methods of the preceding war. Unfortunately, however, he is

sometimes led into the formulation of rules which proved successful in the limited cases under consideration, and are,

therefore, assumed to be principles of universal application.

Such an error, when disseminated throughout the military

forces, has resulted in national disaster. Where, on the other

hand, men of superior talent guide the counsels of a nation, it

enters on a new war not with a spirit of blind faith in old

forms, but rather with a full determination to utilize all new

developments to the utmost. History furnishes many examples

3
where such an increment of force has been enough to achieve

victory.

From the above considerations it seems inept to accept the

methods in vogue at the end of the World War, unless critical

examination has shown that they are probably applicable to

future needs. At the beginning of the war the airplane had progressed little beyond the experimental stage. It was incapable

of transporting large military loads—it was slow, unarmed,

and unreliable. Here and there an enthusiastic airman may

have the vision to understand the possibilities of the future.

But such men were few in number, and their voices were soon

drowned in the din of battle. In spite of some brilliant individual exploits in the air, the part played by the airplane in the

huge conflict which centered about the first Battle of the

Marne was negligible. As the war continued, mechanical

progress became amazingly rapid. The powers of the airplane

grew by leaps and bounds. To take a single example, the pursuit airplane of 1917 seemed scarcely to belong to the same

genus as its predecessor of pre-war days.

It would, however, be erroneous to conclude from this that

the military value of each new development was appreciated

and put to full use without delay. Such a thing has rarely

occurred in history, and the airplane proved to be no exception. Nor is it difficult to comprehend the reasons which bring

about this condition. The decisions of war are too important in

their consequences to encourage experimentation. Men in

high position, shouldering a vast responsibility, naturally prefer to cling to the known good, and even the boldest spirit

turns back from the prospect of hazarding the destiny of a

nation on a new and untried agency. Then too, it is rarely

practicable in war to evolve a tactical doctrine which is a well

rounded whole, harmonious and balanced in its parts. The

requirements of the moment take precedence over more distant needs. Expediency necessarily governs. In consequence,

the tactical doctrine at any given time usually consists of the

many improvisations, which have hitherto proved successful

in as many special situations. Such was the case in air warfare. Nevertheless the military value of the airplane, though

lagging behind mechanical improvement, steadily increased,
until by the Armistice, the air force had come to exercise a profound influence on the operations of the contending armies. It

would be a mistake, however, to conclude that the proper rôle

of aircraft had been delimited, and that the relative weight of

air power in the scales of war had been determined, even for

that short period of time in which tactical methods hold good,

before passing into obsolescence.

With the termination of the World War and the withdrawal

of its fierce stimulus, the rate of progress in the development

of aeronautics has diminished; nevertheless the powers of aircraft have been steadily, if slowly, augmented. Today, so eminent a soldier as Marshal Foch sees in the future of aircraft

not alone the power of inclining victory towards either standard, but even the possibility of bringing such pressure to

bear on civilian populations as to end war through the action

of the air force alone. To an ever-increasing extent military

experts throughout the world are realizing that the time has

come to subject air power to a critical analysis, and to reapportion the war values of the various fighting forces. It is

unfortunate that the subject has occasioned controversy and

acrimonious discussion, for when a spirit of partisanship

enters by the door, truth is all too apt to fly out by the window.

Only the scientific spirit, which seeks truth wherever it may be

found, is likely to achieve any degree of success.

The sole practical concern of the military student of today

is with the next war. If he refuses to accept the methods of the

past as applicable to the present and future, merely because

they fulfilled the needs of the past, he must equally avoid the

other extreme of discarding the valuable lessons of the past.

War has been a human phenomenon as far back as our knowledge can penetrate. Deliberately to jettison the vast stores of

information which have accumulated during this time would

be an obvious act of folly. Approaching the teachings of history

in this spirit, it is seen that two broad categories of facts are

universally true, and applicable therefore to present, past, and

future, and to all forms of warfare whether waged by land, by

sea, or by air. These facts may be roughly described as those

which are of the order of mathematical truths, and those

which are primarily derived from the nature of man.
The human factor in war. War is essentially a conflict of

moral forces. A decision is reached not by the actual physical

destruction of an armed force, but by the destruction of its

believe in ultimate victory and its will to win. Material things

may be, and generally are, of great importance. But in spite of

the tendency in modern life to subordinate the man to the

machine, it is still true of war that the effectiveness of material things is gauged less by their purely mechanical worth

than by the extent to which they raise or lower the morale of

the combatants. History contains many examples of the side

with the inferior armament gaining the victory, but a demoralized force has invariably gone down in defeat. It is apparent

then that what may be called spiritual phenomena are of vast

importance in war. On this account, all wars, however remote

they may be in point of time, contain material for instructive

study. For the nature of man is the same today as of old, and

his reactions to physical stimuli remain essentially

unchanged.

This statement may well be challenged, and it must be

admitted at once that it lacks absolute accuracy. There is

abundant evidence that the remove ancestors of man were different creatures from the homo sapiens of today, and it

appears probable that man may yet evolve into a different

animal as the centuries are added together and become an

age. But these changes require such vast periods of time to

become perceptible, that, for the practical purposes of this discussion, human nature may be regarded as a thing fixed and

immutable. Certainly this holds true for the few score centuries of which we have authentic descriptions of war and of

soldiers. In the fascinating “Commentaries” of Caesar, there is

clearly portrayed the kinship of the legionary with the soldier

of today, even to the detail of the rough jest of the camp. It is

not surprising, therefore, that the student of the art of war has

learned many a valuable lesson from the past. It is notable

that when Napoleon recommended to his contemporaries the

intensive study of the campaigns of the great captains, he

included in his list men who has fought many centuries before

the invention of gunpowder.
Numerous other examples might be cited to show the continuing influence of the past, but one more, of peculiar interest to the present generation, must suffice. When von Schlieffen succeeded the elder von Moltke as Chief of the German

General Staff, his duties led him to an ever-increasing belief in

the value of the maneuver known as envelopment. He considered that the perfect example of this form of attack was found

in the defeat of the Romans by Hannibal at Cannae, and he

disclosed his views to his contemporaries in a book which bore

the name of the battle. It is unquestionable that the lesson of

this battle exercised a profound influence on the German

plans for the war with France which was then believed to be

inevitable. It is even said that on his death bed, von Schlieffen

urged that the right of the German hosts, which was destined

to attempt the envelopment of the French left be further

strengthened. Certain it is that the scheme of maneuver of the

invasion of France in 1914 was envelopment. Again we find

the same idea predominant in the German mind in the defeat

of the Russian invasion of East Prussia in the same year.

Ludendorff relates how, after the overwhelming Russian

defeat, he gave to the dead von Schlieffen devout thanks for

his teaching. It is thus no purely fanciful figure to see the dead

hand of Hannibal partly guiding the movements of the German armies of 1914.

It may be assumed from the above discussion that all wars

of the past, however much they may have differed from each

other, nevertheless possessed certain characteristics in common. These constitute the fundamental principles of war.

Since it is essential to the validity of a principle that it be independent of time and of the especial weapons of the contestants, and rest on facts which have hitherto been universally

true, it is a justifiable assumption that the principles of war

will still hold good for land or sea combat, despite the coming

of the new air factor. For whatever the advent of the airplane

may have accomplished, it has not altered the soul of man,

nor the fact that two men are stronger than one. It is indeed a

fair inference that the principles of war are applicable even to

purely air combats. The airplane is after all but a weapon, and

must needs be directed by man. The forces of the air are at the
mercy of material things to a greater extent perhaps than are

land armies. But even more important to the air force than

equipment is the nature of the discipline which pervades its

ranks. Though it may differ in its forms, this discipline has the

same objective as that of land and sea forces: to conquer in the

human soul the natural shrinking from danger and death by

suitable training in which the fear of punishment and the

hope of reward are judiciously mixed. This simple fundamental is often lost to view. Thus a whole philosophy of peace has

grown up around the idea that modern ingenuity may make of

war a thing so terrible that humanity will find it unendurable,

no matter how compelling the inducement to fight. But this

belief ignores the many examples from ancient history of

panic, demoralization, and utter route, when the enemy had

no weapon more terrifying than the sword. Man’s capacity for

terror was reached by ancient means quite as effectively as by

any of the modern inventions. Man’s chief fear is man, not the

weapon he carries of the projectile he hurls. He conquers only

through discipline.

Distinctive characteristics of air combat. Although the

principles of war, as distinguished from derived or secondary

rules, apply with equal force to air combat, it is especially

important that diligence be exercised to insure that a given

statement is in fact a principle. When the attempt is made to

ascertain the powers and limitations of the airplane by the

process of induction by analogy, there is always a grave danger of confusing principle with rule. This method of reasoning

often produces valuable results; comparisons with the older

agencies of warfare may result in shedding light on the

employment of the new arm. But the method must be used

with caution, for where the airplane resembles some other

thing in one respect, it frequently differs in all others, and too

close an analogy leads to error. The airplane is not, for example, merely a special variety of motor-propelled vehicle, comparable in general to other means of transportation; nor is it

simply another form of artillery. It is a thing sui generis, and

its full significance can be understood only after a thorough

study of the intrinsic qualities of the air force itself. No easy

comparison with some earlier innovation will suffice.
This caution in regard to the danger of comparison applies

also to the conditions surrounding air combat. The airman is

precisely the same human as his comrade in the land and sea

forces, with the same set of reactions. But the psychical conditions that are commonly met with in air warfare show

notable differences from those encountered in other classes of

action. Certain of these will be briefly investigated before considering the principles which apply to air fighting.

Shock action. In land warfare, the doctrine of all nations

recognizes that the success or failure of the infantry constitutes the final test in battle. This is regarded as a fundamental axiom, based upon unalterable human conditions and

therefore applicable even in situations where the support of

other arms is essential to victory. In spite of the vastly

increased power of modern missile weapons, the psychology of

infantry combat still rests on the basis of shock action. The

Roman aphorism that the nation which shortens its sword

lengthens its boundaries, retains much of its old virtue. Missile weapons are the means; the end is the decision by shock

action. Rarely, of course, do bayonets actually cross. Usually

the threat is sufficient to destroy the hostile will to fight.

When it is thoroughly appreciated how important shock

action is to the basic training of the land fighter, it will be seen

how different are the conditions of air combat, where this form

of action may almost be eliminated from consideration. In this

respect, air fighting resembles more nearly the modern naval

action.

Formerly, collision in the air meant almost certain death

for both participants. It is evident that we may dismiss from

consideration as an important form of action one which

demands suicide. This is too great a call on the human spirit,

however courageous it may be, to be used for any but rare and

highly exceptional circumstances. It is true that instances

occurred in the World War which had all the outward appearance of deliberately ramming an opponent. But it appears, on

closer investigation, that the act was the result of sheer accident, in the greater number of cases, or at least the result of

erroneous belief that the enemy would swerve in time to avoid

the onset. In at least two cases, however, ramming was
unquestionably deliberate—the last desperate charge of a

pilot, already in flames and himself doomed to certain death,

but determined to take a final toll of the enemy. But as a factor in tactical methods in the World War, shock action was

negligible.

With the advent of the present parachute, however, which

has proved to be practicable and remarkably successful,

shock action presents a slightly different aspect. A head-on

collision, with its enormous speed of impact, is as certainly

fatal in its consequences today as formerly. But it is possible

to bring another airplane to earth by ramming from the rear,

when the difference of speeds is not great, and allow all personnel to escape uninjured, thanks to the seat parachute.

Many such incidents have occurred through accident in

peace-time training. In spite of this possibility, however, shock

action will probably be of rare occurrence in future warfare. At

best, it is an even exchange of airplane for airplane with the

enemy, an outcome which each opponent will seek to avoid,

even where one of them possesses marked numerical superiority and could perhaps afford the loss. It is obvious, too, that

such a method of attack, when made over hostile territory—

where an aggressive air force will usually be found––redounds

to the enemy’s advantage, since the attacker, even though he

escapes the collision unharmed, becomes a prisoner of war.

Over the sea, also, parachute jumps have not the same hope

of a successful issue, as when made over land.

But perhaps the most potent reason against ramming lies

in the fact that the same skill and determination which are

requisite to successful shock action would generally result in

the destruction of the enemy by fire action alone, without the

loss of the attacking airplane. With this knowledge in mind,

the air fighter will rarely resort to the more desperate method.

In general, therefore, we may expect shock action in rare situations only, where other methods have failed and it remains

the sole means of retrieving disaster. Thus the modern naval

doctrine requires such action by pursuit aviation protecting

naval vessels, when the latter are about to be attached by hostile bombing airplanes and fire action alone has failed to avert
the threatened danger. In general however, fire action is the

decisive element in combat.

The rôle of enlisted personnel. A most important difference between the fighting forces of the air and those of the

land and sea lies in the functions of officer and of enlisted

man, and accordingly in the relationship that must exist

between them. In the infantry, for example, the basic fighting

unit is the individual enlisted man. The importance of the officer, the leader, cannot be overestimated, for on his effort

hinges the fate of battle. But in the final analysis, it is the

enlisted man who is the sole wielder of arms. The corps of officers exists only for the purpose of directing and coordinating

the blows of many thousands of enlisted men to a common

end. They strike no blow themselves. These trite and well

known facts are nevertheless worthy of thought and of analysis. The privileged position of the officer, the necessity of

instinctive and instant obedience to his commands on the part

of the soldier, the necessary restriction of initiative as we go

down in the hierarchy of rank until, when the private soldier

is reached, it is almost nonexistent—these are facts which

enter into the very warp and woof of the fabric of infantry.

Long experience of many land battles has demonstrated their

necessity. They form the basis of discipline, which is itself only

a means to the all-important end: that the soldier, under the

tremendous psychical stress of battle, may be induced by the

command and example of his officer, to master the urgent call

of self-preservation and to perform the very simple but enormously difficult action which constitutes his duty.

When we come to consider the air fighters, these conditions

are met with in part only. In the American service, the officer,

not the enlisted man, is the wielder of arms in the air. The latter is not a combatant at all. His duties are those of a

mechanic, to use that term in a broad sense to include the followers of many trades. He is not called upon, as the infantryman may be, to follow his officer forward in the charge,

through the heated atmosphere of danger and death. The

duties of the air service enlisted man are complex, but are performed under conditions of comparative security. Of course

there must be discipline in an air force, as there must be in
any organization, military or civil, which is to exist for any

length of time. But since discipline is not an end in itself but

simply a means, it would seem that two somewhat different

forms of discipline must exist side by side in the air force.

Among the combatants, the officers, there must be a discipline

which envisages coordinated effort in battle, one which differs

from that of other fighting units only in the notable fact that

the commander of an air unit in combat is a leader of leaders.

Among the enlisted personnel of the air force, the discipline

needed is that of the shop rather than of the battlefield.

Mass psychology. It is a well known fact of psychology

that the reaction of a crowd to a given stimulus is by no means

a mere composite of what the reactions of the individuals composing the crowd would be, if isolated and subjected to the

same influences. There is a definite mass psyche. The wise

military leader utilizes this fact in an endeavor to raise the

level of his command above the average of the individuals

composing it. But the existence of a mass psyche is not without its evils and dangers. Chief among these, to the soldier, is

the phenomenon of panic. Its prevention is one of the ends

which the strict system of military discipline seeks. Not

always, however, is the goal attained. For while raw and

untrained troops will almost certainly yield to the first

approach of its malign influence, even seasoned veterans are

not wholly immune. Such famous organizations in history as

Caesar’s Tenth Legion and Napoleon’s Old Guard were not

without such an incident in their records.

It would be an absurd example of unreasoning esprit de

corps in view of these examples to deny that such a wave of

hysteria might be born in the air force, even though its combatant personnel be composed wholly of the officer type. But

for the transmission of this wave a certain set of conditions

must be present. There is considerable evidence which indicates that these essential conditions for the propagation of

panic are absent in the case of fleets of aircraft, although this

phase of the subject has not yet been investigated with the

thoroughness which alone would warrant a definite conclusion. But experience shows that the successful transmission

of this spirit throughout bodies of men necessitates the close
contact, the elbow-to-elbow touch, and the ability to see the

expression of a neighbor’s face and appreciate the play of emotion in the varied tones of his voice. Only under these conditions will there be a complete submergence of the individual in

the mass, and in the definite production of a mass psyche. In

the operations of the air force, these essentials are lacking to

a very large extent. The airman is physically isolated, and

must be ever conscious of his individual responsibility for the

maneuvering of his craft. These factors tend to preserve the

individual psyche. However strong may be the personally born

emotions which are aroused in him, he is incapable of transmitting his panic to another. The infection does not spread.

While the comparative freedom of the airman from the

influence of the mass tends to preserve him from the demoralizing effect of panic, it has also its disadvantages. Every

infantry soldier is aware of the spiritual comfort which comes

in the hour of danger from the close proximity of comrades or

from the bearing and example of a leader. This is not totally

denied to the airman, but its influence is weakened by the very

conditions which render waves of panic so highly improbable.

The spiritual exaltation of a leader cannot be readily conveyed

to his followers in the air. And although the proximity of his

fellow fliers gives the airman an added sense of security, he is

nevertheless largely left to his own devices.

The time factor. While the operation of the time factor in

warfare serves in general to enhance the value of aircraft, it is

intended in this discussion to consider only an important limitation which it sets. In land warfare of the past the contact of

the main forces has been followed, in the usual sequence of

events, by formal battle, which continued until the fortunes of

the field had been definitely decided in favor of one or the other

opponent. The drawn battle of the long-continued siege was

rather exceptional. The fight, once begun, was carried through

to a finish. With the advent of the huge armies of modern

times, the period necessary for a decision has been lengthened; our common language, in such phrases as “winning the

day,” illustrates a feature of ancient warfare only. But even

though battles of today may last over many days, they are normally continued to a decision. In this connection, it must be
recalled, the World War, apparently an exception, was a reality in four years’ siege of France, interspersed with sorties

which were knows as battles.

In air warfare, a very definite time limit is placed on each

individual combat by the restricted fuel capacity of the airplane. For example, the essentially fighting machine, the pursuit airplane, has a fuel capacity of little more than two hours.

Due to this limitation, the necessity for which will be explained

in a subsequent chapter, even isolated duels of individual airplanes often result in fruitless maneuvering for advantageous

positions, until the diminishing supply of fuel forces the contestants to break off the indecisive action. With larger numbers of airplanes, the difficulty of securing a decision in so

short a time is greatly increased. It may be expected, therefore,

that the single action in the air will rarely be as decisive in its

consequences as the land battle. Whereas the latter is usually

a fairly continuous action, though marked by periods of

crescendo, air warfare will consist of a succession of actions of

great violence, with periods of almost complete calm between.

With this brief indication of certain distinguishing characteristics, which are inherent in the nature of air warfare, it is

now proposed to examine the more important principles which

govern successful action.

The principle of mass. In the history of the innumerable

fights of the past, both on land and on sea, it would seem that

the value of sheer numbers would be the principle of all others the most evident, even to the quite casual observer. Nevertheless this fundamental principle of mass has not always

been appreciated and given its due weight in the balance of

forces. Several facts have conspired to bring about this result.

The human mind is naturally impressed by the exceptional,

and inclined to make it the rule. The fact that history contains

many examples of armies meeting defeat at the hands of a

force inferior in numbers, is often allowed to obscure the

working of the principle of mass. Of course, there must be

cohesion and discipline on each side, before any talk of numbers has either value or meaning; mere armed mobs can be

shattered at ease by a true military organization many times

inferior in numbers. Then, too, even though two contestants
are approximately equal in armament and in discipline, one

may possess a decided advantage in the genius of its leader.

But such genius, where it exists, is not expressed in the violation of principles, but in a strict adherence to their true inner

meaning.

To illustrate this, it might be profitable to recall the views

of some of the great captains of history. Two contemporary

geniuses will be chosen, each a master of a different form of

warfare. In a speech to the Lords of Admiralty, the great Nelson, a man by no means unconscious of his own genius of

inclined to depreciate its worth, nevertheless made the significant statement—one is tempted to call it admission—that

only numbers can annihilate. To turn from sea to land, the

world is familiar with Napoleon’s cynical observation that God

is always with the heavy battalions. But another incident in

his career beings out even more clearly his views on the subject. It is related that in reply to the question of a colleague,

who was seeking to discover the reasons for Napoleon’s brilliant successes, he answered that victory is achieved by numbers. This called forth an expression of surprise, as it was

common knowledge that Napoleon has almost invariably contended against numerical odds, in spite of which he remained

master of the field. In explanation of the seeming paradox,

Napoleon then pointed out that, while he may have had an

inferior force on the field of battle as a whole, he had so disposed them that at the decisive time and place, he possessed

a marked superiority.

In passing to the consideration of air warfare, it is evident

by inspection that the principle of mass is applicable in all its

fullness. Numbers are of the highest importance. Indeed, in

comparing the relative fighting powers of two opposed air

forces, when all factors but numerical strength are dismissed

from consideration, the ratio of the squares of their respective

numbers appears to give the fairest contrast. Of course, any

attempt to reduce fighting power to mathematical formulas

must be regarded with suspicion. Where so many imponderables enter, the result is never susceptible of proof. Nevertheless, this statement may be accepted as, at least, a very rough

approximation.
In spite of the axiomatic character of the principle of mass,

it has not always found ready and universal acceptance

among those who have been called upon to deal with the strategy and tactics of the air. It is probably true, however, that the

many failures to abide by this principle arose not so much

from lack of appreciation of the principle as from inability or

disinclination to overcome the obstacles to its application.

This subject will be dealt with in greater detail in subsequent

chapters, but it is purposed to give a brief outline here of the

development of the principle during the air combats of the

World War.

Air warfare quiet naturally began with the fighting of individuals. This was the period of the Ace. The deeds of derring

do of these champions of the air earned them a well deserved

fame, and handed down to posterity an invaluable tradition for

the guidance of the infant arm. But thinking men realized the

value of numbers, and studied to overcome the difficulties

which lay in the path of combined action. It was seen to be

inevitable that this, the Homeric Age of the air, would pass,

just as the duels before the walls of Ilium had long ceased to

be a feature of infantry combat. As time went on, this proved

to be the case. Fliers began to go forth in small formations of

three to five airplanes. As greater facility was acquired with

experience, and the value of numbers was brought home in

many a thrilling lesson, the size of formations grew, until as

large a number as thirty airplanes were led in combat as a

fairly well coordinated unit. When this stage of development

had been reached, it seemed to many an observer that combinations of aircraft had arrived at the limit prescribed by

nature, and that no further progress was possible. That such

an opinion should be held ought not, however, to occasion

surprise. It requires time for any perceptible forward movement to take place, even when the pathway of progress is seen

by all eyes and is free from all obstacles. No such easy conditions were present, however, in this case.

A very real obstacle existed in the lack of suitable interplane communication, which was restricted to a few very simple signals.
In these circumstances, combined action of larger units

was possible in air fighting in only two ways: a plan might be

conceived for a given operation, and thoroughly explained to

all concerned before departing from the airdrome; or else airmen might be so thoroughly imbued with the same doctrine

that team-work could be hoped for as a result of an almost

instinctive understanding of the leader’s will.

In handling the small units which were the rule in the

World War, these methods gave fairly good results. But they

were altogether inadequate to the needs of larger numbers. A

plan, to be of any value, must be based upon the situation as

it exists at the moment of joining battle. A pre-conceived plan

may be based upon sound premises, where the objectives of

attack are on the surface of the earth, since there is small likelihood of important changes occurring in the few minutes which

elapse between the departure from the airdrome and the

launching of the attack. But in air fighting, this is almost

never the case. Here the situation may undergo a complete

change in a very few seconds, and thus the very basis of the

pre-conceived plan will have been destroyed. Nor is a common

doctrine sufficient. It is, indeed, a vital necessity for cooperation, and is almost enough in itself to achieve this end, in

smaller units like the flight. But it cannot alone bring about

the coordinated action of masses. It is necessary in addition

that the plan of the leader for the specific situation be conveyed to all through the medium of orders. Even then, history

teaches us, men who have imbibed the same doctrine in the

same school, sometimes work at cross-purposes, when orders

lack clarity.

The status of development of the principle of mass, which

was briefly described above, was reached toward the end of the

World War. With the coming of the Armistice and the inevitable

cessation of military effort, further evolution ceased. Air fighting may be said to have halted at the level of the squadron. It

is true that larger numbers of airplanes than this were flying

simultaneously on missions which called for mutual aid and

support. But their objectives usually lay on the surface of the

earth. Judged by the criteria of their ability to carry out a

coordinated attack on an objective in the air, in accordance
with a plan conceived in the air and based on the air situation,

these airplanes did not constitute a true tactical unit, but were

rather an aggregation of semi-independent squadrons.

It is easy to comprehend why the development of the principle of mass halted where it did in the World War. But it is difficult, indeed, to believe that a natural limit was reached in

that stupendous conflict, and that air warfare will forever be

confined to the puny combats of small formations. It is true

that so redoubtable an air warrior as von Richtofen believed

that forty airplanes was the largest number capable of being

handled as a unit, and this estimate was concurred in by

many other able men. But it is unquestionable that these

practical fighters were concerned only with the conditions

existing at the time, and made no pretense of formulating a

rule for other than the present and immediate future, which

they were considering. Under these circumstances, the opinion was undoubtedly sound. But it was based on the paucity

of existing communications, and these conditions have

already changed.

Communication from airplane to airplane by means of the

radio-telephone is already an accomplished fact. With this

obstacle, the greatest of them all, removed from the path, it is

difficult to see any other impediment that time and training

cannot readily remove. It is worse than folly to become a victim of that intense form of conservatism, which believes that

nothing can ever happen in the future which has not happened in the past. To do so is to fly in the face of nature, which

has decreed that change is one of her immutable laws. The

principle of mass is clear, and the tendency of the change so

obvious, that there is every reason to believe that the nations

of the world will move inevitably towards the employment of

ever-increasing numbers. The limits of this natural movement

will be set only by the resources of the country, and the extent

to which it is willing to expend its funds in the construction of

aircraft, and in the training of men to fly and maintain them.

That nation will be, indeed, unfortunate which opposes to the

principle of mass an evil principle of dispersion.

The principle of economy of force. The principle of economy of force is closely interlocked with the principle of mass,
and is, in many respects corollary to it. For true economy

must be practiced, if the mass is ever to be available for use.

In war there are always thousands of points which seem insistently to demand protection and the consequent expenditure

of strength. Many of these demands are difficult to ignore. But

the leader who yields to them all soon finds his forces thinly

spread out and widely dispersed. The effort to be strong everywhere can only result in being weak everywhere. The continuous drain on the mass which is to deliver the main blow leaves

it too weak for its task, and opens the door for disaster to

enter. The art of war, if it may be compressed in one sentence,

consists in bringing to the decisive time and place an adequate

superiority of force. No nation ever brings into the field a

strength so vast that it can accomplish this end, without carefully husbanding its resources. Having decided, after a proper

estimate of the situation, where the decisive action is to take

place, the skillful leader economizes his strength at all other

points to the verge of parsimony, in order that he may spend

with a prodigal hand at the all-important time and place. 

The principle of economy of force has rarely been more

clearly illustrated than in the Battle of Chancellorsville. On the

afternoon of May 1, 1863, the situation which faced Lee was

certainly of an unfavorable character. In the general vicinity of

Fredericksburg he had only some 57,000 men, while Hooker

was opposing him with a command whose total strength

reached the formidable figure of 134,000. Lee, who was thoroughly imbued with the spirit of the offensive was determined

to attack, in spite of the huge odds against him, and had

already partly succeeded in forcing his opponent to assume a

defensive rôle. It is interesting at this time to note the true

economy which Lee was practicing. To the east a force consisting of two of Hooker’s seven corps, under the command of

Sedgwick, presented a serious threat; to the south the cavalry

of Stoneman was operating against Lee’s communications;

while the main Union force, under the command of Hooker

himself was strengthening its position to the west, in the

thickly wooded terrain about Chancellorsville. In every direction

lay danger. But with a clear comprehensive of the essentials of
the matter, Lee permitted himself to make no unnecessary

detachments from his main force. 

Stoneman he all but ignored. Against Sedgwick, whose

force was scarcely inferior in numbers to Lee’s entire army, he

sent but a small containing detachment, vastly inferior in

numbers to the enemy facing them. In this way Lee was

enabled to face the army of Hooker with the bulk of his force

intact, and so to reduce somewhat the odds against him in the

more restricted theatre which he foresaw would witness the

decisive fighting.

Reconnaissance on May 1, had convinced Lee that the

front and left of the Union position were too strong to attack

but his active cavalry soon acquainted him with the fact that

the Union right flank was “in the air.” This he determined to

envelope. Having thus selected the decisive point, he distributed his forces in truly daring fashion, but in strict accord

with the principles of economy of force. On the union front

where he anticipated no action of moment, he left a bare skeleton line of 16,000 men. To the decisive flank he sent Jackson—

a force in himself—with three divisions, having a total strength

of 30,000 men. When the blow fell, the Union forces opposing

it numbered only some 10,000 men of the Eleventh Corps.

Lee, though outnumbered on the whole more than two to one,

have nevertheless brought to the decisive time and place three

times the number of the force opposing him. While the outstanding feature of this battle is the sublime audacity of Lee,

such rare daring that only the eye of genius could distinguish

it from foolhardiness, it is no less striking an illustration of the

principle of the economy of force.

The principle of economy of force applies to the operations

of the air force no less than to land and naval action. This fact,

however, has not been universally recognized, and violations

of the principle in the employment of air units have been frequent. The explanation lies perhaps in the fact that so few military men, outside of the air force itself, are acquainted by

experience with the proper functions of the latter, while nearly

all are familiar with the duties of observation aviation. All too

frequently, therefore, aviation connotes observation aviation,

and the wide field of activity of the air force is ignored. Observation aviation is a true service, and to scatter it out among

the organizations it serves, violates no principle of war. Generally speaking, the principles of mass and of economy of force

have no bearing on the performance of its rôle.

But with the Air Force proper, the case is entirely different.

Here we have, not a service, but a true combatant arm. To

spread it out uniformly over a wide area, under many different

commanders, is to commit precisely the same fault that our

authorities would have committed in 1898, had they yielded to

the importunities of the port towns of the Atlantic coast, and

provided them all with some portion of our naval strength. We

should have been equally strong everywhere, and too weak to

win at the decisive point. In particular, it is fatal to err in

respect to this principle with pursuit aviation. In the chapter

devoted to that subject, the matter will be gone into in detail.

It is sufficient at this point to state that the principle of mass

applies in all fullness, and that the true application of this

principle is impossible without a proper economy of force.

Undue dispersion runs the same risk of being defeated in

detail with an Air Force, as with any other combat organization. Its tactical doctrine, and its organization, which should

be based on tactics, must alike facilitate the employment of

the central mass. Detachments from it must in every case be

justified. Rarely can they be satisfactorily explained, unless

they prevent a larger force from participating in the decisive

action. One exception may be noted. Often, in the World War,

both sides alike violated the principles of mass and of economy

of force. Where the enemy has dispersed his strength into

many small detachments, it may become necessary to follow

somewhat the same procedure, in order to run down these

many little units. The case then is analogous to guerrilla warfare on land. But where there is no likelihood of encountering

more than one enemy airplane at a time, there is obviously no

dispersion in habitually operating in flights of three airplanes. 

The principle of the offensive. War holds no clearer

example of the preponderance of the moral factors over the

purely material ones than in the everlasting truth of the principle of the offensive. In land warfare, for example, the development of rapid fire weapons along with other mechanical
improvements has given such power to the defensive that this

would almost invariably be the successful form of action, if

only physical considerations entered into the situation. But no

mechanical development has changed the fundamental truth

of the moral nature of the struggle. Because of this fact, the

offensive must be taken whenever possible, and held to with

the utmost tenacity. Of course, a commander may sometimes

be forced to adopt the defensive by the hard facts of war; but

in so doing, he renounces, for the time at least, all hope of a

decisive victory, and bends his every effort to the mere negative purpose of averting defeat. Unless, somewhere in the

future, he can foresee a chance of resuming the offensive, his

defeat is merely a question of time and further struggle is

largely futile.

The Franco-German War of 1870 furnishes an interesting

example of the triumph of the moral over the material. The

French were armed with the Chassepot rifle, a rapid fire

weapon with nearly double the effective range of the needle

gun of the Germans. Realizing to the full the enormous physical power of this weapon on the defensive, and desiring to

reap the benefit of their advantage in this respect, the French

permitted the gradual development of a cult of the defensive.

They began to place their hope of victory in destroying the

offensive power of the Germans, while the latter were yet too

distant to make reply with their inferior small arms. Such a

doctrine, while quite plausible, either ignores or minimizes the

lesson of that the essential prerequisite of victory in land warfare is to implant in the heart of every soldier an ardent desire

to close with the enemy. This was the fatal defect of the French

idea. The débâcle that followed is well known, and while the

French defeat cannot be attributed to this cause alone, it was

certainly a contributing factor. 

All of the moral factors which give strength to the principle

of the offensive in land warfare apply with practically the same

force in air combat. But the physical factors, which in land

warfare are found aligned on the side of the defensive, tend in

air warfare rather to favor the offensive; or at least, they do not

markedly weaken the value of the latter. The offensive, on

account of these factors, is an even stronger form of action in
air fighting. These physical considerations will be briefly discussed. 

It will be shown subsequently that considerations of

design, due to physical limitations, make it desirable to have

the essentially fighting machine, the pursuit airplane, a singleseater, which is capable of firing its machine guns only to the

front and in its line of flight. This condition at least holds true

at the present time, and seems likely to remain so for an indefinite period into the future. It would, of course, be confusion

of cause and effect to assert that design of aircraft necessitates

offensive action; rather is it true that the pursuit airplane is so

designed because the importance of the principle of the offensive is accurately appreciated. But, in order to insure that

pursuit aviation may assume the offensive whenever it

desires, it is necessary to strip it of practically all defensive

power. In short, limitations of design make it impracticable to

have a machine which may be utilized offensively or defensively at will. No reasonable compromise is possible. So a

purely offensive weapon has resulted. The single-seater pursuit airplane can inflict absolutely no damage on the enemy,

except while the former is actually attacking its objective. Its

defensive power, using the term in the sense of its ability to

withstand or to repulse attack, is practically nil. It may, of

course, escape from an enemy by superior speed or skillful

maneuvering. Pursuit aviation is, therefore, an unalloyed

offensive agency. As a land force approaches its adversary, it

has in general three lines of action open to it: it may endeavor

to escape combat altogether; it may attack; or it may defend.

But to an air force of pursuit aviation, the last choice is lacking. It may attack; but if this is deemed undesirable, it has left

it only the decision to escape.

In the above statements, the terms offensive and defensive

were used in a very narrow sense. When used with the broader

meaning which will hereafter be understood, there is no real

difference in the ultimate methods of fighting between offensive and defensive action. To take an example from land warfare, the infantryman, when on the offensive, uses fire power

up to a certain point, and follows it at the crisis with the bayonet. His opponent, on the defensive, meets him with precisely
the same two forms of action. Much the same thing holds true

in air fighting. The pursuit pilot who permits the enemy to

attack him, merely because the rôle assigned him is of a defensive character, is courting suicide. The essential difference,

then, which exists between offensive and defensive combat,

lies rather in the fact that the aggressor has the choice of the

time of battle, and of the place of delivering his main and subsidiary blows, besides, of course, possessing the moral advantages which have already been discussed. Using the word with

this broader meaning, the defensive has certain other weighty

inherent disadvantages in air warfare. As an example, when a

given area is to be defended against attack by land, skillful

dispositions of the defending force will insure that the enemy

will be met and his advance contested. If the defending force

is strong enough, positive protection is assured. But for the

defense of the same area against air attack, even the most

skillful dispositions of a markedly superior air force will not

guarantee immunity against hostile blows from the air. For

this condition, time and space factors are largely responsible.

To consider this phase of air warfare in greater detail, let

us ignore for the present the possibilities of antiaircraft

machine guns and artillery, which will be discussed later, and

assume that the burden of defense against hostile air attacks

must fall on the friendly pursuit force. The difficulties that the

latter must face are often insurmountable, even when it has

numerical superiority—a condition which, in other forms of

warfare, is rarely found associated with the defensive. First of

all, it is essential that some system exist for giving adequate

warning of the approach of hostile aircraft. The best method

yet devised is the establishment of a circle of listening posts on

the ground, connected by telephone with the airdrome of the

defender. So great, however, is the speed of the airplane, and

so high the altitude at which the attackers may fly, that warning will frequently come too late to permit the defending pursuit aviation to launch an attack.

An example perhaps will make the inherent difficulties

more evident. Let us assume for simplicity’s sake that the area

is circular in shape, and is to be defended by a flight of pursuit airplanes, which are located at its center. It is known that
the largest hostile force which may attack the area is a flight

of bombardment airplanes. At 12:00 o’clock noon, listening

posts, which are on the perimeter of the area, sight the hostile

bombers, flying due south towards the center of the area at an

altitude of 15,000 feet and at a speed of 100 miles per hour.

This information is quickly telephoned to the pursuit airdome,

and thanks to a thoroughly trained and alert personnel, at

12:04 the mechanics are starting the engines, while the pilots

are assembled at the operations office, where they are receiving this information and the orders to attack the hostile

raiders. At present the pursuit airplane is equipped with a stationary water-cooled engine, and time must be allowed for this

to be properly warmed; for it is scarcely practicable to keep it

warmed and “idling” at all times, and flight with a cold motor

often proves quite dangerous. But, being eager to go, the pursuit pilots cut short the usual time of warming, and take-off in

a loose “V” shaped formation at 12:15. They begin climbing at

very nearly the maximum rate, and at length arrive at an altitude of 16,000 feet at 12:30. Meanwhile the hostile bombers

have travelled some 50 miles. If the listening posts have

sighted them at a smaller distance than this from their objective, the pursuit flight is obviously too late to prevent the

attack. Having superior speed to the bombers, the pursuit

flight will attempt to run them down on their homeward journey and exact revenge, but the system of positive defense has

obviously proved defective.

Of course, if the pursuit flight has been in the air at the

time, much of the time loss in the above example would have

been avoided. But since the enemy may select his hour of

attack, it is apparent that a positive defense would require

that an adequate force be kept in the air at all times. Since the

fuel capacity of the airplane is definitely limited, and wear and

tear on personnel and material must be repaired from time to

time, it is evident that only a portion of the pursuit force can

be kept in the air continuously. To do even this involves the

risks of dispersion. This will be discussed in greater detail in

a subsequent chapter.

In addition to the difficulties of the defensive which are due

to the time and space factors, there is still another, which is
not peculiar to the defensive alone, but operates very frequently to defeat its ends. This obstacle comes from the ease

with which two airplanes may fail to see each other in the air.

To the observer on the ground, who is unacquainted with the

limitations of flying, nothing seems easier of detection than an

approaching airplane. It fairly shrieks out its presence. But

the senses of the man in the airplane are greatly handicapped.

Experience shows that the detection of one airplane from

another calls for unremitting attention and keen vision on the

part of the airman. The man on the ground first becomes

aware of the presence of aircraft, in almost every instance,

from the noise of the engine and propeller, or from the

whistling of the air stream through the rigging of the airplane;

the airman, with the roar of his own engine close to his ears,

is practically deprived of his sense of hearing. The vision of the

man on the ground, too, is often unobstructed; while the airman, seated in the cockpit of his machine, has large sectors of

the surrounding space shut off from his view by wings, tail,

and fuselage. It is true that he may partly overcome this difficulty by periodic maneuvering of the airplane, so as to bring

into his line of vision the hitherto hidden spaces; but in spite

of this, many a reasonably alert pilot has first been made

aware of the presence of an enemy by tracer bullets. It is probable, however, that the most frequent cause of failure to see

another airplane lies in the fact that the eyes are not focused

for the correct distance; it is possible in this way to be looking

directly at an object, yet have it fail to register its presence on

the optic nerve. It is probable that in this respect also the man

on the ground, with many objects at varying distances to guide

him, is less often led astray.

It is apparent from these facts that, even if the warning

comes in adequate time to permit the defense to gain contact

with the enemy, it is still entirely possible for the two forces to

miss each other in the vast spaces of the air. With the small

numbers of airplanes that were usual in the World War, it

happened many times. Where large forces are concerned,

there is, of course, far less probability of evasion; and where

the defense possesses an effective ground antiaircraft system,

to supplement its aircraft, it can be of invaluable assistance to
the latter, and usually can be relied upon to bring about contact with the enemy.

In the above discussion, only the hours of daylight were

considered. The difficulties of the defense are multiplied many

fold during the hours of darkness. For the greater part of the

World War no effort whatsoever was made by aircraft to combat the operations of hostile airplanes at night. Night bombers

came and went with impunity, except for artillery fire aided by

searchlight; consequently this branch of aviation was generally reputed to be an unusually safe activity. Before the end of

the war however, both the British and the Americans undertook to check this night bombing by night pursuit units. Too

brief time remained for the full development of methods, which

accordingly, by the end of the war, had advanced little beyond

the crudities of the experimental stage. Enough was accomplished however, to indicate that some degree of success

would eventually be achieved. Since the war, there has been

some advance in this direction, and every reason exists for

believing that night operation of pursuit aviation will be a regular feature of future wars. Nevertheless, an inspection of the

difficulties of the defensive, previously discussed, demonstrates that darkness increases many of them and decreases

none. Nothing of human invention will ever entirely take the

place of sunlight. Night attacks therefore will always be less

liable to encounter opposition than those undertaken by day.

The history of the World War abounds in examples which

illustrate the inherent difficulties of any antiaircraft defense.

Conspicuous among these were the defenses of London and

Paris. To guard these capitals against hostile air raids, hundreds of guns and airplanes were installed. Notwithstanding

all this array of force, the Germans executed raids periodically. Although they were outnumbered by the defending force,

often in the ratio of more than ten to one, the German airplanes suffered only insignificant losses. It is true the raids

did not inflict enough material damage to produce decisive

results. But this was neither intended nor hoped for by the

German high command, who were far too well informed to

expect important consequences from the desultory attacks of

mere handfuls of airplanes. The real purpose of the raids was
achieved with conspicuous success. The Germans had hoped

that such clamor for protection would arise from the populations of the capitals that the political rulers would not dare

disregard it. They hoped that, as a result of this, guns and airplanes by the scores would be diverted from the decisive theatre of war on the Western front and tied down to the fruitless

guard of the capitals. The strategy was not unlike that of Lee

in the American Civil War in his many threats against Washington. It met with a full measure of success. A very small

force of German airplanes immobilized many times their number of allied aircraft, and reduced by that amount the allied air

power in the decisive areas of action. These two examples are

perhaps better illustrations of the principle of economy of force

than of the difficulties of air defense.

A thorough consideration of the significance of the facts

which have been previously stated leads at once to an important question. If aircraft constitute the best defense against

aircraft, and yet are inadequate, even when possessing superiority in numbers, to insure against hostile attack, is the rôle

of the defenders impossible of execution? In seeking the

proper answer to such a question human thoughts will naturally turn to the past and will find comfort in the reflection

that the introduction of a new weapon has almost invariably

been followed by the development of some adequate protection

against it: the sword undoubtedly begat the shield; poisonous

gases were countered by the mask. Surely men on the surface

of the earth will not have to submit to violent air attack, with

no recourse other than to bear the infliction with such fortitude as they may command. Some positive defense will certainly be evolved in the near future.

This line of reasoning is attractive, and not without plausibility. But, in very fact, history shows that a positive defense

has not invariably been found for every weapon. The rifle furnishes an instructive parallel. The soldier long ago abandoned

all hope of wearing enough armor to provide a positive defense

against the bullet. Should he come in the missile’s way, he has

no alternative but to suffer the ensuing wound. But this does

not mean that he is wholly lacking in powers of defense. His

best method, as so often is the case, lies in striking at his
opponent, either destroying or neutralizing the latter before

suffering damage himself.

It is much the same with aircraft. Despite the many strictly

defensive agencies, which will be described subsequently,

there is no adequate armor against air attack. Not only is the

assumption of a vigorous offensive the best defense—it is

almost the only form of action which leads to successful issues

in air warfare. Once a hostile air force has gotten within striking distance of its objective, there is little chance of foiling the

attack. Nevertheless, the decision to take the unqualified

offensive, and thereafter to maintain it, cannot be made without overcoming many obstacles. It is small consolation to the

inhabitants of a city, suffering under a rain of bombs from the

air, to know that the citizens of the enemy’s capital are having

to endure the same or worse punishment. Even the soldier

may be pardoned, if, in like circumstances, he harbors

unfriendly thoughts of the friendly air force, though at that

very moment the latter may be inflicting far greater losses on

the enemy. Such attacks are heard to bear. It is demanding a

great deal of human nature to ask it to ignore local suffering

and contemplate only the broad general situation. There will

be many of insistent demands for the defensive. Nevertheless

ultimate success will be achieved with greater degree of certainty by a vigorous offensive against the enemy’s aircraft and

his vital centers, than by attempting provide a close and positive defense against similar attacks on his part, a plan which

will never produce decisive results, and will often end in stark

failure.

The principle of surprise. Hundreds of years ago

Xenophon noted the overpowering effect of surprise on the

hearts and minds of men, a result which has in no way been

lessened with the passage of time. The advent of the airplane

has done much, however, to reduce the possibility of surprise,

in so far as land and naval action is concerned. It is no longer

impossible to see what is happening on “the other side of the

hill.” It is intended here, however, to consider only the effect of

surprise in air warfare, the other phases of the subject being

discussed in connection with the service of observation. 
Surprise may be either tactical or strategical in nature. The

difference between tactics and strategy is difficult to describe,

as might well be expected when it is realized that they are

merely different phases of the same art. There is rarely a

clearly cult line of demarcation, and where a distinction

between the two is to be drawn, each writer in turn has been

forced to make his own definitions. In this discussion strategy

will be considered as the art of so disposing the air force on its

airdromes that it may take the air under the most advantageous conditions for success in battle. Tactics, on the other

hand, will be considered as the art of so conducting the air

force while in the air, as to achieve the same end. The boundary line between the two is the surface of the earth.

Strategical surprise is attained with the air force in much

the same manner as with land or sea forces. It consists in general of effecting concentration in decisive areas, and of concealing them from the enemy until it is too late for him to take

effective counter measures. It is successfully accomplished by

adopting a sound plan, and by carefully working out the

details of logistics, just as in a similar operation by the land or

sea forces. However, in one important respect it differs from

the latter; the factor of time exercises an important modifying

influence, as will be shown in a subsequent chapter. 

It may seem, on first consideration, as if tactical surprise

would rarely occur in air fighting. This, however, is not the

case. It is not at all uncommon for a pilot to fail to detect the

presence of an enemy, until actually attacked by him. Surprise

probably accompanied a majority of the victories in the air

duels of the World War. Indeed, many successful air fighters

considered it as an almost indispensable pre-requisite for victory, since a skillful enemy, if warned in ample time of the hostile presence, could generally avoid the fatal burst of fire. This

belief was carried to such an extent by some pilots, that it was

considered futile to continue a duel if the initial dive and burst

of fire failed to destroy the enemy. 

Surprise is rendered possible not alone by the difficulties

of vision described above, but also by the presence in the air

of good “cover” for the lurking airplane. Clouds offer excellent

concealment. Even more frequently the attacker took advantage of the dazzling effect of the sun on the vision of his victim. So often, in the World War, did the enemy dive in to attack

from the direction of the sun, that the British adopted as one

of their maxims of air fighting: “Beware of the Hun in the sun.”

These methods of securing surprise are obviously well

suited to the needs of minor combats. When mass fighting,

which seems to be inevitable outcome of the future, is at

length realized, since the difficulties of concealment increase

with numbers, tactical surprise will grow correspondingly

rare. Nevertheless, it must be diligently sought, even if unattainable in all its completeness. If the utmost care and effort

should fail to result in a complete surprise, it will nevertheless

result in the concealment of some part of the whole. So great

is the value of tactical surprise that even the smallest degree

of it produces an effect which is well worth the trouble it

involves. It is with strategical surprise, however, that we shall

have to deal more frequently in future warfare. It is not to be

expected, for example, that a group of the enemy will be so

completely surprised by a brigade of pursuit aviation that the

group never suspected the presence of even a single airplane.

But it is well within the bounds of the possible for a well made

and skillfully executed plan to lead the enemy to believe he

would encounter no larger force than a group, for example. In

this way it will often be possible to keep the enemy unaware of

the true strength of the force he is to encounter until contact

is actually made.

The principle of security. The principle of security is in

many respects the obverse of the principle of surprise, since

its application lies to a great extent in eliminating surprise by

the enemy. We see a typical exemplification of the principle in

the advance guard of land warfare. While this detachment has

other duties, its primary mission is to insure the main body

against surprise. Somewhat similar measures are taken in the

air, except that, since the direction of danger differs, the security measures must correspond. The air unit, as we shall see

later, is particularly vulnerable from the rear and from above.

An attack from the rear is an awkward situation for the land

force too; but since the enemy is constrained to move in a single plane at a slow rate of speed, and must give heed to his
own communications, the rear of a land force is usually quite

free from danger of attack by another such force. In the air, on

the other hand, the habit of three-dimensional movement at

high rates of speed, and the total absence of communications,

makes every direction one of possible danger. But since the

rear promises the greatest results, it will be the usual direction from which attack may be anticipated. Tactical security

measures generally, therefore, embrace some form of what

may be called a top guard, which remains above and behind

the main body, in a position from which it may readily dive

down and attack any force endeavoring to interfere with the

latter. 

It is, however, in the domain of strategical security that

future warfare may see many modifications of the past. The

World War has left a legacy which has been little disturbed up

to the present, but which seems ill fitted to the needs of the

future. Formerly the airdromes were nearly always of the

nature of permanent or semi-permanent installations, requiring days and even months to complete. Habitually the flying

field was flanked on one side by a row of unmistakable

hangars, arranged with geometrical precision, and proclaiming their purpose to all who looked. It is true they were almost

invariably beyond the range of hostile artillery. Some effort,

too, was made at concealment. Hangars were camouflaged

and occasionally “dummy” airdromes were constructed. But

the meager measures taken were so little effective that each

side knew the location of all hostile airdromes with astounding accuracy. 

That the airdromes of the World War suffered as little as

they did from air bombardment can be attributed only to the

fact that bombing methods and bombing equipment were both

crude and undeveloped, and that, in general, determined

bombing was directed rather against other objectives. It seems

reasonable to conclude for the future that the airdrome must

had added security, if it is to exist. Aside from this consideration, the necessities of mobile warfare also will rule out the

elaborate semi-permanent airdrome. We may rather expect to

see as a feature of the service airdrome of the future an almost

complete absence of structures of all kinds. The airplanes will
simply have to stand the extra wear and tear imposed by lack

of shelter. The possibility of concealing numbers of airplanes

in nearby woods will be an important asset in an airdrome.

Many alternate landing fields may be located, and organizations frequently shifted from one to another. Personnel will be

concealed, of course, and will generally live at a distance from

the airdrome. These and numerous other security measures

must become the rule, when bombardment aviation of the

future begins to attack in the masses that we may confidently

anticipate.

The principle of simplicity. Simplicity has been called

the soul of art. Whether this be true or not, in the general

case, it is certainly the one unvarying essential to the successful practice of the art of war. It is difficult for those who

are unfamiliar by experience with the conditions surrounding

battle, to appreciate the intense emotional stress which the

participants undergo. Under these circumstances, the fine

shades and subtle tones of an idea fade altogether from the

mind. Only the stark and simple thoughts have any hope of

survival. A complex plan is foredoomed to failure. It makes

demands beyond the human capacity. For, as Clausewitz has

pointed out, in war all things must be simple, and the simplest

things are most difficult.
34

CHAPTER II

THE CHARACTERISTICS OF AIRCRAFT

The Airplane

Early ideas of military uses. When the Wright Brothers,

after many years of labor, gave to the world its first successful

heavier-than-air flying machine, a few of its military uses were

at once perceived; the armies of all nations began to consider

its value for purposes of scouting and reconnaissance. A few

enthusiasts, of course, saw beyond this to the broad field of

activity of today. But these men were in a decided minority.

The consensus of military opinion of the day considered those

duties its only rôle in war. It was a logical consequence of this

limited conception that one airplane was regarded as being

much the same as another. The day of specialization had not

yet dawned. Air fighting lay far in the future, and was in fact

very generally regarded as a wholly impractical thing, a suitable theme perhaps for the poet or novelist, but outside the

scope of the serious military student.

On this account speed was not especially sought after

beyond a limit which had been almost attained in the very earliest models. On the contrary, high speed was regarded by

many as undesirable, both because of the added danger

involved, and because of the widespread but erroneous belief

that speed would materially interfere with good observation.

Since air combat was not visualized, rate of climb too was held

to have little practical value, beyond that necessary to get out

of restricted airdromes. The same attitude prevailed towards

“ceiling”; it was considered necessary to go only to some 1,800

feet in altitude, in order to be beyond effective fire from the

ground, and greater altitudes served only to increase the difficulties of observation. It was, of course, recognized that development and improvement must go on, but the only goals generally aimed at were greater safety and reliability. Such was
the general attitude towards aviation in the year 1911. Five

years later, we see a changed state of affairs. Air fighting was

now commonplace, and demands were being made for everincreasing speed, rate of climb, and maneuverability. In

another direction of development, bombardment aviation was

in process of becoming a serious weapon, and was stimulating

designers to build craft capable of lifting larger and larger

loads. Specialization became the order of the day. This tendency has been accentuated with the passage of time,

although today the design of military aircraft has become crystallized into a few fairly well defined types.

Design a compromise. It is the purpose of this volume to

deal with the tactical aspects of air warfare, rather than with

the technical features of airplane design. Indeed, many volumes would not suffice to cover the vast ramifications of aircraft engineering. It is essential, however, to a correct perception of the tactical methods of any fighting force, that the

powers and limitations of the various agencies which area

involved, be well understood. We must know, for example, that

the horse walks four miles an hour, trots eight, and gallops

twelve, if we are to form any estimate of the mobility of cavalry.

In the case of the air force, knowledge of the physical properties of the means employed is probably of even greater importance than in the case of any other fighting organization,

unless perhaps it be equally true of navies. For the man in the

air is peculiarly at the mercy of material things. No matter how

great his determination nor how high his courage, he is helpless against an enemy with a machine that can out-run, outclimb, and out-maneuver him. Since the factors that enter into

design must be understood before proceeding to a study of

tactical methods, this chapter will deal with this subject in a

very general way. It is not intended to burden the reader with

mathematical formulae. Every effort will be made to avoid

involved technicalities. The ensuing descriptions will, therefore be understood to refer to the outstanding features, rather

than to express exact mathematical relationships.

It is obviously important that the airman be provided with the

machine best suited to the mission he is called upon to execute.

Unfortunately for the attainment of any idea, many of the quali-
ties which are especially desirable in the same machine, are conflicting in their demands on the designer. One of them can be

attained only at the price of a partial sacrifice of some other.

Thus, for a given horsepower of engine, we may have an airplane

that will carry a large useful load, or else have one that will fly at

a high rate of speed. But it is quite impossible to combine in one

machine all these desiderata in the highest degree. Design is of

necessity a compromise. On this account, it behooves the tactician to consider all the factors which enter into design with the

utmost care. For he must estimate the weight of each of them, in

the light of their bearing on tactical success, and thus provide

the designer with the broad tactical specifications for his guidance in the development of the machine.

Speed. If we except the fact that the airplane lifts man high

above the surface of the earth, and in so doing realizes one of

his oldest dreams, the most striking characteristic of the airplane is speed. In respect to this quality no other means of

transportation has even approached the airplane. From the

tactical point of view, the importance of speed is most evident.

Superior speed gives to its processor nearly entire freedom of

choice as to combat. If he chooses to fight, he can run down

the enemy and force him to action. If, on the contrary, the situation seems unfavorable to tactical success, he can utilize

his greater speed to escape the enemy’s clutches. When used,

however, in this connection, the word speed has a significance

beyond that usually meant in discussions of aerodynamics. It

must be remembered that aircraft are three-dimensional voyagers. From the tactical point of view, we must consider not

alone their speed in a horizontal plane, but also their speed in

the vertical direction. Since the two qualities do not necessarily go hand in hand, it is convenient to designate them by different terms. The word speed is restricted to rate of travel in

the horizontal plane, while the term rate of climb is used to

designate the same thing in the vertical direction.

Speed in the airplane is not, however, a mere tactical asset.

It is also an aerodynamic necessity. Unlike all other means of

transportation, the airplane can never come to a halt in its

usual medium of travel. A certain minimum of speed is essential to sustentation, for the whole phenomenon of flight
depends on the reaction of air to the fast moving wings of the

machine. Let the airplane once drop below this speed, and the

machine “stalls,” falling to earth with useless controls. Provided this occurs at an altitude great enough to permit the

airplane to regain flying speed from the acceleration of gravity,

no harm is done. But if it be at too low a height for this, a fatal

accident generally results. In fact, inadvertent stalling is the

most prolific cause of flying disasters.

But this minimum speed, which must be had in order to fly

at all, does not by any means satisfy the requirements for the

military airplane. It is always desirable in war that every mission, no matter what its character, be executed with celerity.

Moreover, every military airplane may have to fight, even

though its habitual missions may call for the avoidance of

combat wherever practicable. It may, therefore, be accepted as

an axiom that every military airplane should have the highest

possible speed consistent with the possession of the other

characteristics that are essential to the proper performance of

its special tasks. As suggested previously, these other characteristics almost invariably conflict with the attainment of

speed. Some of these will be briefly considered.

Useful load. No matter for what purpose it may be designed,

every military airplane must be capable of carrying some useful

load. It is this necessity, as will be demonstrated subsequently,

which is the greatest enemy of all other desirable characteristics

in the completed machine. The addition of weight invariably

means a sacrifice of either speed, or of rate of climb, or of maneuverability; often it means that all three must be curtailed. We

may, therefore, accept as a second axiom that the useful load of

the military airplane should be reduced to the minimum consistent with the performance of the duties for which it is designed.

There exists a natural temptation to load the craft down with the

every device that might conceivably prove of use. This, however,

must be assiduously combated. A suitable compromise in the

matter of the load to be carried requires the best judgment of the

tactician and of the engineer combined. To consider, for example,

the pursuit airplane; its useful load has hitherto been restricted

to the weight of one man, his forward guns and ammunition, and

a limited amount of fuel. Many reasons can be advanced for
addition to this weight. Thus is would be desirable to increase

the fuel capacity, so that pursuit aviation might have a longer

cruising radius and be able to undertake more extensive operations. But to do this, as will appear in a subsequent paragraph,

might put the pilot at a serious disadvantage in combat. Accordingly, the fuel supply is cut down to the smallest amount that

gives a reasonable radius of action in the situations that are

likely to arise. It should be mentioned in this connection however, that the installation of extra fuel tanks, which can be carried for long distance operations, and dropped at the will of the

pilot, offers a possible solution of this question.

Another most desirable feature in the pursuit airplane is

defensive power, primarily in the form of rear guns and an

extra man to work them. There have been many advocates of

the two-seater fighter. In the World War they were used to

some extent, and proved themselves of great value in any special circumstances. There is every reason to believe that they

will prove of value under similar circumstances in the future.

But the sacrifice of speed that is involved does not seem warranted, and the bulk of pursuit aviation will probably always

consist of single-seaters. Yet another desirable addition to the

load of the pursuit airplane is the supercharger, which will be

described later. This is absolutely essential for flying at the

higher altitudes. It is, therefore, apparent that unless some

pursuit units are equipped with it, a large reach of the air is

given over to the exclusive use of the enemy. But the weight of

the supercharger is excessive. A pursuit airplane so equipped

is at a disadvantage in combat at low altitudes with an enemy

unburdened with this extra load. It seems probable that this

dilemma will be solved by further specialization, part of the

pursuit force being used only for high altitude operations,

where it will meet the enemy on terms of equality.

Much the same problem arises in regard to the installation

of radio sets. These are essential to the control of masses of

pursuit in the air. But here again weight is an appreciable

item. On account of this—as well as for other and perhaps

more cogent reasons—it seems likely that only the commanders of the larger units of pursuit aviation will be equipped with

the radio, and that they will exercise their functions from com(Official Photograph, Air Corps, U. S. Army)

Figure 1. The Curtiss Navy Racer
(Official Photograph, Air Corps, U. S. Army)

Figure 2. Pursuit Airplane, PW-S
mand planes, especially designed for this purpose, and

intended for defensive fighting only.

It is evident from the above discussion that, however, desirable, a feature may be, it is often necessary to dispense with

it, if the essential attributes of the air fighter are to be

retained. When we come to consider the other branches of aviation, however, so rigid a curtailment of weight is not required.

At the opposite end of the scale from the pursuit airplane

comes the bomber. Here the transportation of heavy loads is

its chief reason for existence. This requires so many sacrifices

of flying qualities that all hope of retaining offensive combat

power must of necessity be abandoned. It must rely for protection upon the operations of friendly pursuit aviation and

upon its own rear guns. These constitute no great additional

burden where so much as already been assumed. A larger fuel

capacity than that of the pursuit airplane is also necessary, if

the slow bombing machines are to have an adequate “range.”

In the same class with bombing planes may be placed seaplanes. The extra weight which is necessary to permit them to

alight on the surface of the water, places them under all the

disadvantages of the bomber in the land type, with the additional factor that the useful load they can carry is greatly

reduced.

Between the bomber and the pursuit airplane come the

other service types. Their tactical rôles demand that they carry

heavier loads than the pursuit airplane, but lighter than those

that must be transported by the bomber. Design full recognizes these tactical needs, and accordingly, the other service

types are a mean between the two extremes in flying qualities.

In the preceding discussions enough has been said to show

the conflict in design that occurs between the desire for a large

useful load and the need for high speed. But there are other

desiderata, which must be taken into account and which often

require modifications in speed or in useful load.

Structural strength. It is obvious that the airplane must

be strong enough to withstand any of the stresses it is likely

to undergo in service. Increased strength almost invariably

entails additional weight, so that the effect of this factor is

similar in many respects to an increase in the useful load. It
exercises its greatest influence in the case of the pursuit airplane; for this is subjected, in the rough and tumble of air

fighting, to greater stresses than any other type of service airplane. At the same time, as stated previously, speed is a prime

necessity for the pursuit airplane. Here again the necessity for

a compromise appears. In the case of other service airplanes,

which are not maneuvered so violently and hence are not subjected to the same dynamic loads, strength does not enter to

the same important degree. As an illustration of this, it is

accepted as entirely practicable to give the wings of the

bomber strength to withstand a load of only 5, expressed in

multiples of the total weight of the airplane; whereas the pursuit airplane must have wings capable of bearing a dynamic

load of the order of 12.

Landing speed. High speed in a horizontal plane is also

limited by the necessity for landing the airplane safely. In general, the higher the landing speed of the airplane, the larger

must be the airdrome used for the purpose. This offers no

serious difficulty in some parts of our country, where spacious

airdromes abound. But in the more thickly populated areas

suitable landing fields are not commonly found. Yet it is just

this character of terrain that is most liable to become the theatre of larger operations. It is obvious then that the landing

speed of the service airplane must be kept below a certain

maximum, or the success of the air force might be seriously

jeopardized by lack of suitable airdrome facilities. Another

defect presented by high landing speed lies in the danger of

forced landings. For example, an airplane with a landing speed

of 100 miles an hour, if forced to land due to engine trouble,

would practically never find a suitable landing field. The

destruction of the airplane would be almost certain.

Now the landing speed of an airplane and its maximum

speed under power are not governed by the same factors, as

will be shown subsequently. Nevertheless it may be stated in

a general way, that the requirement of a low landing speed

usually results in reducing also the maximum speed.

A number of devices have been invented from time to time,

to shorten the pace required for landing. The familiar brake of

the automobile at once comes to mind. In its usual form this
has proved impracticable, due to the fact that the brake sets

up an overturning moment, which usually causes the airplane

to “nose over.” It appears, however, that this difficulty is not

wholly insurmountable, and that some form of brake on the

wheel may yet prove of at least some value. Experiments have

also been conducted with a parachute, which is released after

landing, and acts as an air brake to reduce the velocity of the

airplane. While this seems to be an excellent emergency measure, it has also many disadvantages. Designers have long

dreamed of a variable wing surface, which would solve this

and many other problems. For, as will be shown later, the

amount of wing surface plays an important part in determining the characteristics of the airplane. If it were variable, it

would be possible to reduce the wing area to its smallest in the

air, and so attain a high speed, then to extend the surface

prior to landing, so that the machine could be “floated in” at a

low and safe speed. Hitherto, however, mechanical difficulties

have prevented any realization of this idea.

Another contrivance which is designed among other things

to reduce the speed of the airplane on landing, is the reversible

propeller. Experiments with this give excellent promise of ultimate success. However, at the present time, none of these

devices has reached the stage of development that warrants

their inclusion as part of the standard equipment of the airplane. It still has to roll, after landing, until friction and air

resistance bring it to a halt, and should some unavoidable

obstacle intervene, a crash is the result. So long as this condition exists, the necessity for a reasonably small landing pace

will tend to limit the maximum speed of the airplane.

Speed and the human factor. There is more than a suggestion that, even if necessary compromises in design or the

strength of materials do not eventually set a limit on speed,

the human factor may do so. For example, let us suppose that

two of the fastest airplanes in existence today are manned by

hostile pursuit pilots and are approaching each other the

same line. If the two pilots fail to perceive each other until they

are at a distance of 250 yards, less than one second of time

will elapse, before they pass each other. Of course, air fighting

more frequently occurs where the relative speed of the two
contestants is the difference rather than the sum of their

respective speeds. Nevertheless, the conditions in the example

will often occur, particularly in a mêlée. It indicates, at least,

the exorbitant demands that may be made on human reactions, demands which are perhaps beyond human ability to

meet. It is interesting, in this connection, to note that pilots

who have blown these racing airplanes, complain of the severe

physical reaction of the centrifugal force of turning. Of course

it is trite to observe that the human body was not evolved to

be hurled at terrific velocity through the air. And we have

numerous examples in aviation alone, which warrant the

belief that the same human ingenuity which accomplishes

that result, will also invent mechanical devices, as the need

arises, to supplement the deficiencies that appear in the

human body. Nevertheless, it is worth considering whether a

speed may not be attained—of if, indeed, it has not already

been reached—beyond which it is useless to go, since the

human faculties are unable to avail themselves of the added

advantage.

Rate of climb and ceiling. The tactical significance of rate

of climb has already been discussed. Closely connected with it

is what is known as the ceiling of the airplane. The word is

used with still another meaning, but here will be understood

to indicate the maximum altitude which a given airplane may

reach. There is an obvious tactical advantage in possessing a

high ceiling, since it enables an airplane to reach altitudes

where it is secure from molestation by all hostile aircraft with

a lower ceiling. Rickenbacker gives an interesting account of

just such an incident. On one occasion he attempted to attack

a German observation airplane, which had been photographing the American position. The German, however had the

higher ceiling, and try as he might, Rickenbacker could never

get within range. His vain efforts to climb up the level of his

adversary afforded much amusement to the German pilot and

observer, who watched his futile attempts in complete safetly.

Maneuverability. The world maneuverability in its general

meaning is well understood. Formerly no attempt was made to

reduce this property of the airplane to a definitely measurable

quantity. Maneuverability was considered as entirely comparative, and one machine was held to surpass another in this

respect then it could maintain a superior position in curvilinear flight. Of late, however, there has developed a tendency to

give a somewhat different definition to the word. Now it is held

to be directly proportional not only to the rate of climb, but

also to the velocity of the airplane in horizontal flight, and

inversely proportional to the minimum radius of the turn

which the machine can make in horizontal flight.

Disregarding for the time the speed factor in the last

named definition of maneuverability, and considering only the

other two, which tend to conflict with speed, the subject is of

greatest interest in its application to the pursuit airplane. The

relative weights to be assigned the two desirable but conflicting qualities of speed and maneuverability, gave rise in the

World War to two schools of thought. These may be called,

from the names of two characteristic airplanes, the “Spad” and

the “Camel” school. The latter was a slower machine than the

“Spad,” but excelled it in maneuverability. The typical attack

of the “Spad” consisted in running down the enemy, and diving in rapidly for a short burst of fire. Much dependence was

placed on surprise. Should this initial attack fail, however, the

“Spad” was less effective than the “Camel” would have been

under similar circumstances, for there generally resulted in

that case a long-drawn-out succession of maneuvers for the

advantage of position, a form of action where the “Camel” was

peculiarly handy. On the same account the latter was the

superior machine when itself surprised and forced to make a

defensive fight. On the other hand, the “Spad” could often

force an unwilling enemy to fight, where the “Camel” would

fail; and could escape from undesired combat, if not surprised,

where the “Camel” would be forced to fight. Both ideas had

their advocates, and he who attempts to judge between them

finds himself heartily regretting that the good qualities of both

cannot be combined in the same machine in the highest

degree. On the whole, however, it seems wiser to incline

towards speed, because of its essentially offensive character.

Factors affecting performance. Many of the desirable

qualities in the airplane have now been outlined. It is not the

purpose of this volume to discuss in detail the intricate sub-
ject of design. It has been observed, however, that the design

of the airplane calls for the balancing of many conflicting tactical demands. Therefore, in order to have some measure of

the tactical import of these various characteristics, it is desirable to indicate briefly the factors which affect the performance of the airplane.

It was stated in an earlier paragraph that the requirement

of a large useful load interfered most markedly with the attainment of all other desirable qualities. In this brief illustration of

the salient points of design, let us begin, therefore, with a certain useful load, which must be transported through the air.

This may vary from a few hundred pounds in the case of the

racing airplane, to many thousands in the larger bombers. In

addition to the useful load, the wings of the airplane must sustain also the structure of the airplane itself and the power

plant, the whole constituting the gross load or weight of the

airplane. It is a fundamental law that the total pressure

exerted on a wing as it is pulled through the air, is proportional both to the area of the wing and to the square of its

velocity. This pressure may be resolved into two components,

when the airplane is in normal flight with its wings inclined to

the horizontal. The vertical component is knows as the “lift”; it

overcomes the effect of gravity, and so renders flight possible.

The horizontal component is called the “drag” of the wing.

Since the former alone may be said to perform useful work,

the ratio of lift to drag is taken as a measure of the efficiency

of the wing, although the use of the word efficiency in this

sense is not in accordance with the usual practice in mechanics.

If we ignore the efficiency of the wing, it is apparent from

the fundamental law that the total weight we have assumed,

may be supported in the air by an infinite number of combinations of speed and of wing area. Thus a certain wing area

may be assumed, traveling at a certain speed, or else the same

lift may be obtained by a wing of four times this area, moving

at only half the original speed. If this were the only consideration, it would appear that almost any speed may be secured

regardless of the size of the load to be carried. But of course,

many other factors must be taken into consideration. These

will be briefly discussed.
Wing loading. A marked effect is exerted on many features

of the performance of the airplane by the wing loading, which

is the ratio of the total weight of the airplane to the area of the

wings. It would appear from the fundamental law, that the

speed could be increased to almost any figure, by indefinitely

increasing the wing loading. In practice, we know, of course,

that there is a definite limit to the wing loading. Strength of

materials long would produce this, even if there were no other

restraining factors. For obviously, materials can sustain loads

only up to a certain breaking point, and safety dictates that

this point must never be reached. But other considerations

also sharply define the limits of wing loading. Foremost among

these is the landing speed. Provided the wings of the airplane

possess the same characteristics, landing speed is proportional only to the square root of wing loading. The necessity for

having a reasonably low landing speed for the service airplane

has already been shown. This in turn produces an ultimate

wing loading, beyond which the designer cannot go.

It is interesting, in this connection, to compare the wing loadings of several different types of airplanes. In Figure 1, is shown

the Curtiss Navy Racer. It ignores practically every one of the

characteristics which have been considered desirable in the military airplane, except speed and a reasonable factor of safety for

the stresses it was intended to undergo. It is quite true that a

limited landing speed was prescribed. However, this exceeds the

speed which is considered safe for general service use. As might

be expected, its wing loading is high, being of the order of 16

pounds per square foot. On the other hand, the service types of

airplane show a much lower wing loading. As might be expected

from the fact that a safe landing speed is alike desirable in all of

them, the wing loading shows very little difference. Thus the pursuit airplane, the PW-8 (Figure 2), the observation airplane, the

XO-2 (Figure 3), and the bombing airplane, the NBS-1 (Figure 4),

have wing loading factors of 10.97, 10.77, and 10.76, respectively.

It is, therefore, apparent that when a limited landing speed

is prescribed, and hence the wing loading cannot exceed a definite figure, if the weight to be carried be now increased, it can

be met only by increasing the area of the wing surface. This is,
(Official Photograph, Air Corps, U. S. Army)

Figure 3. An Observation Airplane, the XO-2
(Official Photograph, Air Corps, U. S. Army)

Figure 4. A Bombardment Airplane, the NBS-1
of course, the usual practice. For example, the PW-8, which

weights only about 3,000 pounds, has a wing area of 287

square feet, while the bomber with its weight of 12,000

pounds requires some 1,121 square feet for its sustentation.

At this point in the discussion however, a question naturally

arises. Even though the wing loading be limited, is it not possible to carry the heavier loads in the larger airplanes, without

sacrificing the desirable tactical quality of speed? In theory,

this is possible, if only the maximum speed at sea level be considered. For while the increase in size of the airplane carries

in its train increases in the resistances which are useless in

sustaining weight, and these in turn reduce the velocity, nevertheless they can be overcome, and the high speed of the

lighter load retained, if only enough power is added. In practice however, there is a definite limited on the power of the

engine as well as on the efficiency of the propeller, and the

designer is by no mans unrestricted in his employment of a

power plant.

Power and its effects. The power required for horizontal

flight increases directly with the resistances encountered.

These are generally divided into two classes, the drag of the

wing, which was previously defined, and the resistance offered

by the other parts of the airplane, which, since they play no

part in sustentation, are known as “parasite” resistances. But

the power also is a direct function of speed, and increases not

with the first power, but with the cube of the velocity. It is

apparent then, that as we increase the wing area, while considering the coefficient of drag to remain constant, we must

increase also the power necessary to horizontal flight. As the

machine grows in size, there is also an increase in the parasite resistances. It is still assumed, of course, that the wing

loading remains practically the same. It is apparent from this

that as we increase the weight, it may still be maintained in

horizontal flight, provided we decrease the velocity, with the

same expenditure of power. But if we attempt to increase the

weight and still maintain the same velocity, it can be done only

at an exorbitant price in power.

When we come, however, to consider rate of climb, the

influence of weight becomes even more marked, in its direct
effect on this factor in performance, as well as in its indirect

effect on speed. For the rate of climb is inversely proportional

to the weight of the machine, and is directly proportional to

the difference between the total available power of the engine

and propeller, and the power required to maintain the

machine in horizontal flight. From what was said above, it is

obvious that if the weight be increased largely, and the speed

be maintained high, it will absorb so much power in horizontal flight, that there will be no excess for climbing. If we

attempted, for example, to give the bombing machine the same

speed as the pursuit airplane, the resulting aircraft would be

able to fly just above the earth at high velocity, but would be

totally unable to reach an altitude necessary to overcome even

slight obstacles in the line of flight. Accordingly, in practical

design, as weight increases, speed must decrease; some

excess power is left also for climbing, but as weight increases,

so much power is required for this purpose, that the heaver

machines are also the slowest climbers. It is interesting as an

example, to note that while the pursuit airplane previously

mentioned can climb to 6,500 feet in 4.2 minutes, the bomber

requires more than 22 minutes.

Power and altitude. In so far as the characteristics of the

airplane alone are concerned, ceiling and rate of climb go hand

in hand. But in practice, the ceiling of the airplane is determined by the fact that there is a marked decrease in the power

output of the engine, as altitude increases. This, of course,

affects also practically all other performance characteristics,

as may be deduced from former statements. For example, the

speed of the PW-8 decreases 25 per cent in going from sea

level to 20,000 feet. This loss of power in the engine is due to

the fact that the density of the air, and consequently the

amount of oxygen necessary for combustion of the fuel,

decreases with an increase in altitude. Thus the horsepower

delivered by the Liberty engine at 20,000 feet is less than 40

per cent of its sea level value. To overcome this defect, an

instrument has been developed, known as the supercharger. It

consists essentially of a centrifugal air blower, which compresses air and delivers it to the engine at approximately the
density of the air at sea level. In this way, the power of the

engine is maintained at almost its value at sea level.1

The wings. The efficiency of the wing has already been

defined. It is impossible, within the scope of this chapter, to

enter into the details of the selection of suitable airfoils for the

machine being designed. The methods are largely empirical.

From wind tunnel tests, and from other experiments, the

characteristic of many airfoils have been determined. Usually

the designer selects from among these, the wing which seems

most suitable, in view of the qualities which are especially

desired in the completed airplane. Thus one type of airfoil is

especially proficient in attaining a high speed, while still

another would be selected for the weight carrying machine.

Visibility. The word visibility is understood here to refer the

extent to which vision is uninterrupted by the structure of the

airplane itself. Wings, fuselage, and engine all cut off the view of

the occupants of the airplane to a greater or less extent. From a

tactical point of view, this becomes particularly serious, when it

occurs in the hemisphere in rear of the pilot. In airplanes that

carry a crew of several men, lack of visibility is rarely a grave

defect, since often one may see what is hidden from the view of

the others. In single-seaters however, it becomes of great importance. Not only must the pilot be often scanning the sky in rear

of him, but he must frequently turn his machine in order to

uncover the hitherto hidden sectors. Airplanes that are unusually “blind” are at a marked disadvantage, and particularly so in

combat, where every move of the opponent must be closely followed with the eye. Often, in the design of the airplane, the

necessity for visibility causes the modification of parts of the

structure which interfere, even at a cost of lessened effectiveness

from the standpoint of aerodynamics.

Maintenance. Ease of maintenance under service conditions is an important asset in any airplane. This feature of

design has not always been given due consideration, so that

several otherwise excellent craft have proved to be impracticable instruments of war. Cases have occurred where a squadron

1Airplane engines and superchargers are described in “Aircraft Power Plants,” a volume of the Ronald Aeronautic Library.
with one type of airplane kept 90 per cent of them in commission, while another squadron, under essentially similar conditions, except that it was equipped with a machine more difficult

to maintain, could keep only 45 per cent of its strength in commission. It is apparent that the latter squadron was only half as

effective tactically as the former. It is particularly necessary that

all parts of the engine and airplane, which are most likely to

need repair, be easily accessible.

Factors affecting flying. The discussion of the characteristics of aircraft has hitherto been limited largely to the influence exerted by different features of design. These are usually

of greater importance, when the criterion is tactical effect.

However, there are many factors, outside of the machine itself,

which may enter with decisive effect. Foremost among these

are the extraneous influences which may be grouped together

under the heading of weather.

Wind. In the early days of flying, even a moderate breeze

was often enough to daunt the airman, equipped as he was

with a slow and dangerously underpowered craft. But this

condition has long since passed. The slowest of service airplanes now exceeds the wind in speed, except in storms reaching the intensity of the tornado. The airman of today has little

to fear from the wind. Of course, there are storm conditions

where the airplane is badly tossed about by the wind, and the

pilot is subjected to much discomfort and fatigue. In extreme

cases, there is considerable danger. But such conditions are

too rarely met with in practice, to be of serious moment.

Of course, the direction and intensity of the wind must be

taken into account in every flight. For the velocity of the airplane with respect to the earth, which is the all-important factor in flying, is the resultant of the “air speed” of the machine

and the velocity of the wind. As an example, let us assume a

bombing airplane whose speed is 100 miles and hour, with a

fuel capacity of five hours. This speed, of course, is air speed.

Let us assume also that target is 200 miles north of the airdrome. If the wind were blowing from either north or south,

with a velocity of 45 miles an hour, the ground speed of the

airplane in one direction would be 145 miles an hour, in the

other 55 miles an hour. The round trip would take just a trifle
more than five hours, and hence would be impossible. The

same result would be encountered with an east or west wind

of over 60 miles an hour. Also, it is highly desirable both in

landing the airplane, and in taking-off, that the machine be

headed directly into the wind; otherwise, a dangerous speed or

direction may result, with possibilities of a “crash.” It may be

said however, that while the wind must always be taken into

account in navigation and in maneuvering, it rarely exercises

an important influence on a military mission.

Clouds and fog.2 In the ordinary practice of air navigation of

today, the pilot is largely dependent on landmarks. It is true that

he has at his disposal the necessary instruments in dead reckoning, and that he uses these habitually as a check on his flying, and indeed, when unavoidable, as the sole means of navigating his craft. But the methods of dead reckoning leave much

to be desired on the score of accuracy, even with the more elaborate instruments used in the navigation of sea going vessels.

For these are dependent on landmarks, when their position must

be accurately located within a mile or two. The airplane is in

much worse case in respect to navigation. The sextant and

chronometer are generally impracticable for use in flight. And

dead reckoning, when the velocity of the wind cannot be measured with a fair degree of accuracy, which occurs when the surface of the land or sea is completely obscured from view, is apt

to be mere guesswork. The pilot of the airplane is, therefore,

peculiarly dependent on landmarks in the usual case. Ordinarily the execution of a military mission demands that he arrive

over a definite point. In order to do this, while traveling at a high

rate of speed, he must be able to see to a distance of a few miles,

in order to know his position at all times. He cannot stop for

inquiries. It is on this account that clouds and fog are the worst

natural enemies with which the airman has to contend. For he

must have visibility to fly, and this is almost altogether a question of the amount of water vapor in the air. As clouds lower,

visibility decreases until they may render navigation all but

2 The volume of the Ronald Aeronautic Library entitled, “Aeronautical Meteorology”

treats more completely of weather conditions.
impossible. Under such conditions, attempts at flying are hazardous and almost invariably fruitless.

Aside from the general futility of such efforts, “fog flying”

presents an obvious danger. For when the pilot can see but a

few feet ahead, the avoidance of collision with trees, chimneys,

or other obstacles, is left entirely to chance. Many fatalities are

due to this cause. Still another danger arises from the difficulty of preserving equilibrium in the air. To assist him in this

respect, man is provided with semi-circular canals in the inner

ear; but these are not so highly developed as in the bird, and

experience of many fliers indicates that man cannot dispense

with vision for any great length of time and still preserve a correct conception of his relative position in space. It is true that

instruments have been devised to assist the pilot in maintaining a straight course in fog or clouds, have proven fairly successful. These will probably be of very great value, where the

airdrome and the objective are both free from fog, but intermediate spaces are covered. Nevertheless, the fact still holds

that fogs and clouds constitute the obstacles to flying which

most often interfere with the execution of a military mission.

Rain and hail. Heavy rain may have much the same effect in

obscuring vision as clouds, and may, in addition, damage an

unprotected propeller. Cases have occurred also when rain interfered with the ignition system of the engine. In general, however,

where the rain clouds are not low enough to prohibit navigation,

rain proves a discomfort rather than a serious danger.

Hail, on the other hand, is a serious menace. The impact of

solid particles of ice, at high speed, quickly destroys both fabric

and propeller edge. Fortunately hail storms are rare, and in practice have offered no serious difficulties to air operations.

Darkness. It is evident from the discussion of the effect of fog

on visibility, that flying would be quite impossible in complete

darkness. Absolute darkness, however, never occurs in nature,

and often at night moonlight and starlight are enough to make

flying entirely practicable. On a bright moonlight night, in fact,

many features of the terrain, such as woods and streams, stand

out almost as clearly as by day. Under these circumstances, navigation offers very few difficulties. Of course, no mater how clear

the night, details of the terrain are never quite as distinctly visi-
ble as in daylight. But night flying airplane is equipped with powerful parachute flares, by means of which terrain features of

especial interests may be brightly illuminated. It is provided also

with searchlights and wing tip flares, which would be of great

assistance, if the airplane were forced to land away from the airdrome. Then too the normal airdrome is now provided with artificial lighting which enables the airplane to land and to take-off

as accurately by night as by day.

In general, of course, flying presents far more difficulties by

night than by day. A forced landing, for example, has much

less chance of a safe outcome at night. Thus, in a recent case,

the pilot of an airplane whose engine had failed, preferred to

jump and trust his safety to the parachute, rather attempt a

landing in an unseen terrain at night. At night, in fact, all

observation is more difficult, and the results secured are more

apt to prove unsatisfactory. On the other hand, darkness often

gives concealment and safety, and many missions are practicable by night which would prove prohibitively dangerous in

daylight. So, while darkness is a marked obstacle to flying,

nevertheless air operations by night must be reckoned with in

every phase of action.

Endurance of personnel and material. There comes a time

in war when the utmost exertion and even the ultimate sacrifice

must be demanded of men. When this time arrives, the true

leader does not hesitate to exact supreme efforts. But the wise

general knows the limitations of human endurance, and spends

neither the lives nor the reserve energies of his men, unless the

end is in view fully warrants it. At all other times, both are carefully husbanded. It is patent, for example, that infantry which

has been making forced marches for several days, is too

fatigued to fight with anything like its normal effectiveness.

Similarly, the amount of flying that may be demanded of a pilot

without loss of efficiency, is limited. So small is the amount of

muscular exertion required to fly, that those who are unfamiliar

with the actual conditions, are apt to underestimate the resulting fatigue. Even in the ordinary flying of peace time the expenditure of nervous energy is great; when there is added to this the

strain of meeting hostile air activity, the demands on endurance

mount rapidly. Sometimes also, as in flying at great altitudes,
(Official Photograph, Air Corps, U. S. Army)

Figure 5. The Barling Bomber
there are added physiological effects to be contended with. All of

these combine to produce great fatigue. If, for example, a pilot

should be sent out on mission after mission, throughout a long

day, with barely enough time between to refuel his airplane, the

reserve energy which he would thus expend could not be made

good during the night’s rest. Should such intense activity be

continued for several days, his deterioration becomes rapid.

After a few days, the average man would be overcome with

fatigue, and partially useless for further work. And once a man

is strained beyond his limit of endurance, recovery to a normal

condition is slow and prolonged. 

While the human factor is the more important of the two,

the strain on material also must be given serious consideration. Every part of the airplane must be inspected at frequent

intervals, and repairs of greater or less importance must be

made from time to time. It may be stated as a general index

that for every hour the airplane flies, it must spend two in the

hangar or machine shop, undergoing overhaul, if it is to remain

in the best of condition.

Experience of the World War indicates that the duration of

a mission should be limited to two hours, wherever practicable. This is, of course, often impossible; but after two hours of

service flying, there is a tendency for both pilot and observer

to lose some measure of alertness, which may have undesirable consequences.

The Balloon

Description.3 The observation balloon in general use, consists of a stream-lined envelope, which is composed of a gastight rubberized fabric. The balloon is about 95 feet in length,

and has a maximum diameter of about 30 feet. The envelope

is divided into to compartments by a diaphragm just above the

lower surface inside. The upper compartment is filled with

hydrogen, which is the lightest known gas, having a specific

gravity when compared with air of only .069. It thus furnishes

3 A more complete description of observation balloons may be found in “Free and

Captive Balloons,” a volume of the Ronald Aeronautical Library.
great ascensional force. The lower compartment, the ballonet,

contains a variable quantity of air, which serves to keep the

internal pressure of the envelope constant when the hydrogen

contracts or expands, thus preventing the balloon from losing

its shape. To provide for the expansion of the gas, the balloon

is equipped with an automatic valve, which allows part of the

gas to escape. To the rear end of the balloon are attached three

air-inflated lobes or stabilizers, which tend to keep its head to

the wind as well as to maintain aerodynamic stability. A rigging band, securely attached to the envelope, carries the bridles, which in turn support the basket and the mooring cable.

The former is a square wicker basket, large enough to accommodate two observers and their equipment. The mooring cable

is strong, light, and flexible, and consists of steel wire strands,

laid on a core containing the telephone cable. The lower end of

the cable is attached to a winch mounted on a truck chassis.

By means of the engine, the balloon can be hauled down. In

the air, the balloon has its longitudinal axis inclined, which

produced a “kiting” effect in a wind, and so assists in sustaining the weight of the balloon.

Operation of the balloon. As compared with ground

observation, the balloon offers two distinct advantages. The

altitude to which the latter can attain extends the visible horizon and exposes to view many objects that are hidden from the

eyes of the ground observer. Furthermore, even when the latter can see a certain object, the man in the balloon usually has

a much better angle of vision. On the other hand, the instability of the platform often makes observation from the balloon

quite difficult. As compared with the airplane, the balloon has

a great advantage in the face that the observer has direct telephone connection with the unit for which he works. Furthermore it is able to remain up for longer periods of time than the

airplane, and can render more nearly continuous service.

Weather however, is more apt to halt the operation of the balloon than of the airplane, for conditions of low visibility which

prohibit flying, render balloon observation useless also;

whereas, high winds may bring about the same result with the

balloon, while airplanes are still able to operate. Due to the

inflammability of hydrogen, the balloon is quite vulnerable to
attack by hostile airplanes. It may, however, be rapidly hauled

down on the approach of the attacker, and is provided with an

excellent defensive armament on the ground comprising

twelve machine guns, and two 37 milimetre guns, for antiaircraft use. Should the balloon be set aflame, it is replaced

within an hour or two by a spare balloon, which, together with

the gas necessary for its inflation, is always kept on hand. The

use of helium obviates many of these difficulties, for it is an

absolutely inert gas that does not combine with oxygen. The

ascensional force of helium is 92 per cent that of hydrogen;

also the cost is several times greater although that is not a

serious factor during war.4

The balloon may be moved over the ground either by man

power, or by the use of the winch to which it is attached. In

general, it is fairly mobile, and may be depended upon to keep

up with any ground troops to which it may be attached.

The Airship

Non-rigid airships.5 The division of the airship into

classes, is based solely upon differing types of construction, of

which there are three: the non-rigid, the semi-rigid, and the

rigid. The non-rigid airship is one in which the shape of the

envelope is maintained solely by the internal pressure of the

contained gas. It is, in effect, little more than a balloon, such

as those previously described, with a power plant suspended

from it. The envelope contains the gas, and is the supporting

agency of the entire ship. Inside the envelope, and attached to

it, are one or more small bags, called ballonets, which can be

filled with air or emptied at the will of the pilot, in order to

maintain the pressure at the proper point, when the gas contracts. Undue pressure caused by expansion of the gas is prevented by safety valves. A car containing the power plant is

attached to the envelope by means of steel wire guys. The sta

4 The properties, production methods and cost of helium are given in “Balloon and

Airship Gases,” a volume of the Ronald Aeronautic Library. 5 More complete information about non-rigid and semi-rigid airships is given in

“Pressure Airships,” a volume of the Ronald Aeronautic Library.
bilizers and control surfaces are attached to the rear portion

of the envelope. The non-rigid is the smallest of all airships,

varying in size from the “Pony Blimp” of 35,000 cubic feet

capacity, to the TC type of 210,000 cubic feet.

Semi-rigid airships.5 As the size of the airship increases,

the fabric of the envelope must become stronger, if it is to

withstand the internal pressures necessary to maintain the

shape. This adds so much weight in the case of the larger airships, that efficiency is materially reduced. In order to overcome this defect, the semi-rigid airship was designed. It differs

from the non-rigid in having a beam along the bottom of the

envelope. This supports the car, and permits of such a distribution of the pressures in the envelope that the internal pressures can be kept low. Thus the use of a lighter fabric is

allowed, and a greater weight than that of the keel is saved.

The larger airships of the semi-rigid class have several compartments for gas, in order to prevent surging of the gas, to

localize losses of gas, and to permit the airship the more readily to be trimmed. Ballonets are provided, as a rule, for each

compartment. The Army airship Roma was of this type. The

latest American airship of this type has a gas capacity of

665,000 cubic feet, a useful load of over 8 tons, and a maximum` speed of 70 miles an hour.

Rigid airships. There is a definite limit to the size of the

semi-rigid airship, if it is to remain efficient. This fact makes

the rigid airship of the greatest interest. With it alone, the limit

of size has not yet been approached, and to it belongs the

future of air transportation. The distinguishing characteristic

of the rigid airship lies in the hull framework, which is

enclosed by an outer cover, which however has a very small

part in the designed structural strength of the airship, but is

intended to reduce head resistance to the minimum, and to

protect the gas bags from exposure. On this account the fabric is relatively light. The gas bags are merely containers for

the gas, and therefore also of a light fabric. The airship

Shenandoah was of this type. It had a cubic capacity of

2,115,000 feet, and carried a useful load of over 31 tons.

History of the airship.6 The airship has a much longer

history than the airplane, and once was looked to as the sole
hope of dominating the last element. In this, as in so many

other military matters, the Germans led the rest of the world

in development, and, by the outbreak of the World War, had

reached in the Zeppelin in a high state of efficiency. These airships were employed early in the war in several military operations, the most spectacular of which was the bombing of London. The Zeppelin, at first, had no enemy to meet, who could

bring to bear truly effective measures. The airplane, in the first

days of war, was unarmed, and even when this condition had

been remedied, lacked the ceiling and rate of climb necessary

to cope with the airship. Antiaircraft artillery was in much the

same case: the weapons in existence were undeveloped, and

were too few in number to make their effect felt. Accordingly

the airship could operate with comparatively little fear of

molestation. This condition of affairs was soon to change. Airplanes were developed that could attain to the altitude of the

airship, and had, of course, a markedly superior speed. Antiaircraft artillery too became a powerful menace to the slow

and vulnerable Zeppelin. It soon became known that grave

doubts were being aroused as to the tactical value of the airship, in the face of these strengthened agencies of attack.

Practically all operations of the airship were now restricted to

darkness. They continued at intervals however, until the débâcle of November, 1917, which marked the last German sortie.

Thereafter tactical operations by airships on the western front

were abandoned. It is true that the severe losses sustained by

the Germans on this occasion resulted more from natural

causes than from hostile attack. Nevertheless it was felt that

the results attained were not worth the expenditure of time

and of money which was necessitated. The airship all but

ceased to be a military factor.

But although these examples of the Zeppelin, and the more

recent tragic loss of the Shenandoah furnish valuable food for

thought, we are not yet warranted in jumping to the conclusion that the tactical usefulness of the airship is altogether at

an end. In certain respects, it possesses so marked a superi

6 More complete history of airship development appears in “Airmen and Aircraft,” a

volume of the Ronald Aeronautic Library.
ority over the airplane, that many air situations will arise

where the airship alone will be able to accomplish the desired

result.

Airship and airplane compared. In respect to the useful

load it may carry, the airship has a decided advantage over the

airplane. This advantage too, it probably will always retain:

for, while the efficiency of the airship, as measured by the ratio

of the useful load to the total load, increases with the size of

the ship, this is not true of the airplane. The airship too, is not

compelled to fly at a certain speed in order to sustain itself in

the air, but may vary its speed from the maximum to zero with

entire safety. The full significance of this quality is better

appreciated when it is recalled that nearly four-fifths of the

accidents to airplanes would have been avoided, had the airplane too, been able to hover over a given spot. On the other

hand the airship is unable to attain to anything like the speed

of the airplane. This has a vital tactical bearing: for, if the airship ever comes within striking distance of the airplane, it

cannot hope to escape combat, except where very unusual

weather conditions intervene in its behalf. Nor is the defensive

power of the airship adequate to enable it to sustain combat

with the airplane on approximately equal terms. An airship

having no armament whatsoever on top of the envelope, is, of

course, at a hopeless disadvantage. In combat with the airplane, the latter would attack the envelope with bullets and

sensitively fused bombs, wholly unmolested by the airship,

whose huge bulk would render misses quite improbable. The

substitution of helium for hydrogen does reduce one hazard,

but does not tend to change the final result, for the fire hazard from gasoline remains in the airship as in the airplane.

With the projected airship of 10,000,000 cubic feet capacity,

however, there seems to be no reason why it should not be

equipped with enough machine and 37 millimeter guns so distributed as to preclude all dead spaces, thus compelling the

attacking airplane to overcome a strong defensive fire. Moreover, the launching of airplanes from the airship, and their

safe return to it, has already been proved feasible. Thus there

seems every reason to believe that the airship of the future

may have considerable defensive power, which opens new tac-
tical vistas to it. These however will be considered in detail in

later chapters.

One important consideration which cannon be overlooked,

is the high cost of the airship. Even though its tactical value

seems to be established, its cost raises a doubt that the huge

sum involved might not better be expended in other directions.

The tactician tied down to a budget may well be called upon to

decide between one airship and many airplanes, and cannot

escape consideration of the desirability of abandonment of the

airship. In particular, the necessity of housing the airship in

tremendous and costly hangers militates against its use. This

has however been partly overcome by the development of

mooring masts, to which the airship may be attached. It dispenses with the necessity of large numbers of hangers.

Of the value of the airship as a means of transportation,

where the usual agencies are lacking, there can be no question. This will be considered in greater detail in the chapter

devoted to air logistics.
CHAPTER III

INDIVIDUAL COMBATS AND DEFENSIVE FORMATIONS

Individual and mass air fighting. We have seen, in previous chapters, that individual combats were the rule in the earliest days of air fighting; that these in turn were succeeded by

combats of small formations of airplanes; and that, in accordance with the principles of mass, there is a tendency towards

bringing ever increasing numbers to the fight, so that the student of future warfare is concerned primarily with the larger

units of air warriors. Nevertheless, a study of individual combat is not of historical interest alone. In all fighting organizations, the effectiveness of the whole depends in some degree

on the proficiency of the individuals composing it. On this

account, it is always necessary to study the individual before

it is possible to comprehend the mass. Evidently, however, this

becomes of decreasing importance in proportion as individual

initiative must be submerged in the action of the whole. It

seems probable, from these considerations, that individual

skill will always be a more important factor in air battles than

in the combats of other armed forces.

Moreover, there is yet another factor, peculiar to air warfare,

which further accentuates the relative value of individual air proficiency. In the World War many of the old customs of chivalry

were retained by the contending air warriors. In spite of this

admirable spirit, which was apparently suffered to die in all

other forms of warfare, it was nevertheless true that, in air warfare alone, quarter was neither asked nor given. In view of the

general amelioration of civilized warfare in this respect, the customary action of the air fighter seems peculiarly ruthless. It is far

from the precepts of chivalry to pursue an obviously crippled and

helpless opponent, firing into him steadily, until a fatal crash

into the earth or the certain action of flames in the air, assures

his destruction. Nevertheless the conditions inherent in air fight65
ing render this course unavoidable. Although some instances

have occurred of airmen being shepherded to a hostile airdrome

as prisoners of war, taken in air combat, these are quite exceptional in their nature. Such a course is impossible in the general

case. Normally, the pilot who has definitely established his

ascendancy over his opponent, has no middle course open to

him between allowing his victim to escape altogether, and

destroying him. In such a dilemma, his duty is plain.

The effect that this distinguishing characteristic produces in

air warfare can be more easily evaluated by comparison with

combat on land. When an army has once been broken into fragments and its cohesion definitely destroyed in the shock of battle, its existence as an army ceases. Only the most culpable negligence on the part of the victor will allow it to reorganize, and

operate again as a combat unit. In fact, once that state of affairs

is reached, the work of the victor is usually confined to the collection of prisoners, who, in detached groups, surrender freely,

often without striking a blow. In air warfare, on the other hand,

such a disruption of the hostile forces is by no means the equivalent of victory: it merely offers an opportunity to grasp victory.

Unless this is seized and successfully exploited without delay, no

appreciable result is obtained, for the enemy can reform his broken units within an hour or two, and be ready to resume fighting. To win an air battle, even where the foundation of tactical

success has been well laid, it is necessary to follow up the initial

success with the destruction of the hostile airplanes, one by one.

No mere threat of shock nor the bare surrounding of a force, can

bring about the desired result through surrender, as so often has

occurred in the history of land warfare. Nor can the air force at

a hopeless disadvantage, strike its colors, as in similar circumstances has often been done in sea fight.

This characteristic of air warfare markedly enhances the

value of individual skill. Largely on this account, the study of

individual combat is necessary, not alone because it is essential to an understanding of the operation of masses, but also

because it is desirable as an end in itself.

The importance of armament and gunnery. The design

of the airplane is based upon tactical needs. Nevertheless natural laws put a marked limitation on design. Accordingly, the
study of tactical methods, as a practical matter, may often

best be approached from the standpoint of the characteristics

and equipment of aircraft, even though such a method is not

strictly logical. Since air combat is concerned almost solely

with fire action, an understanding of airplane armament and

of the fundamentals of air gunnery is essential. In this chapter, only those features of armament will be discussed, which

have a direct bearing on air combat, the remainder being

reserved for subsequent chapters.

Aircraft machine guns. In the early days of its history armament was exceedingly crude. McCudden tells how the first airplanes of the British Expeditionary Force were loaded with hand

grenades, in the hope of being able to drop them on hostile aviators. Sometimes also the steel darts known as “fléchettes” were

used for the same purpose. Needless to add, these weapons

proved quite ineffective, and were soon abandoned. The value of

the machine gun was early understood, but a long time mechanical difficulties stood in the way of its utilization. In particular,

the problem of firing to the front was not easy of solution. The

pilot had his limbs, as well as his attention, amply occupied with

flying his machine. It was recognized that the manipulation of a

machine gun in addition was beyond the powers of one man,

unless the two operations could in some way be combined. This

meant, in practice, that the gun must be rigidly fixed in the axis

of the airplane, and fired by aiming the latter.

The first attempts to accomplish this were unsatisfactory.

From a structural point of view, as well as from that of righting

stoppages in the gun, it was desirable that the latter be near the

pilot’s hand, which necessitated firing through the plane of revolution of the propeller. The problem was first solved by fastening armor to the blades of the propeller, in order to deflect chance

bullets. This functioned after a fashion but in addition to other

defects, reduced the propeller efficiency by about one-third. At

length a satisfactory device was developed. The synchronizing

gear, as it is called, consists of a pump attached to the motor. By

means of a column of oil, impulses are transmitted to a similar

pump, which in turn actuates the trigger mechanism of the

machine gun. In this way fire is so timed that the gun is discharged only when the propeller blades are not in line with the
trajectory. This type of machine gun, with fixed guns, is generally employed for the front guns of all single-motored airplanes.

The second class of machine gun consists of those with

flexible mounts. For the reasons given above, it is impracticable to use these, except where some one, in addition to the

pilot, may be carried to operate them. They are employed

therefore, for the rear guns in two-seater airplanes. They are

used also for front guns, but only in multi-motored airplanes,

whose design permits the propellers to be removed from the

forward line of fire. Commonly, the flexible-mount gun is supported on a turntable, known as a tourelle, with provision for

allowing it to be easily moved in altitude also.

Both types of machine gun are habitually used in pairs.

Types and calibres of machine guns. In general, the airplane machine guns are adaptations of those which have been

found successful by ground troops. Certain differences however are important enough to merit consideration. Due to differences in the nature of air combat, it is particularly necessary that the aircraft machine gun have a rapid rate of fire.

With ground troops, the matter of cooling devices is one of

great importance, and frequently is the source of trouble; in

air fighting, on the contrary, due to the rapid air stream, the

altitude, and the fact that the characteristic action involves

short bursts of fire with long intervals between them, more

trouble results from low temperatures than from overheating.

Another difference in the case of the fixed gun at least, lies in

the provision of a synchronizing gear. An important difference

too, is in the sights, which will be discussed subsequently.The

.30 calibre gun is the standard service equipment of today.

However, both the .50 calibre gun and the 37 millimeter cannon have been successfully installed in the airplane. These

will undoubtedly be used in future warfare for special purposes for which the .30 calibre gun is inadequate.

In the American army the Lewis and Marlin guns were formerly in extensive use as flexible-mount and fixed-mount

guns respectively, but both are now being replaced by the

Browning gun.

Airplane ammunition. The ordinary service ammunition,

similar to that in use by the infantry, has generally been
employed in the past for aircraft machine guns. But there is an

increasing tendency to replace this with ammunition especially

adapted to air work. The tracer bullet in particular, though often

useful to the ground machine gunner, has proved indispensable

to the airman. For the latter can see no spurt of dust to help him

correct his aim, and faces a more difficult problem in gunnery

than his comrade of the infantry. But by the aid of the tracer bullet, in the base of which is an inflammable mixture that ignites

on the explosion of the cartridge and burns with a bright green

flame, the airman may follow the flight of the bullet with his eye

to a distance of about 600 yards. Usually the tracer bullets are

mixed with other varieties of ammunition.

Quite distinct from the tracer bullet, although originally

developed from it, is the incendiary bullet. It contains a phosphorus compound, which burns fiercely for many minutes,

and is unusually difficult to extinguish. It was originally

designed for use against balloons, for which purpose the ordinary ammunition is comparatively ineffective. At the time of its

introduction, it was unquestionably prohibited by international agreement (to which however, the United States was not

a signatory) for use against personnel. Undoubtedly too, the

belligerents intended in general to abide by the agreement.

But as the pursuit pilot, although intent on attacking a balloon, sometimes encountered hostile aircraft, and in the circumstances had neither time nor inclination to change ammunition, incendiary ammunition gradually came into use by

both sides. It proved too, to be quite effective for use against

the gasoline tanks of the airplane, which was another inducement to its retention. The legality of its use was formally

recognized in the Hague conference of 1923.

In like case with the incendiary bullet as to its legality, is the

explosive bullet. However, it has not been generally adopted, and

seems unlikely to come into more widespread use.

The armor piercing bullet also was developed in the World

War. It was designed for the destruction of some vital part of

the engine of the hostile airplane, as well as for piercing the

light armor which was sometimes encountered.

Two other classes of ammunition, which partake of the

natures of those described above, are sufficiently explained by
their names: armor piercing tracer and armor piercing incendiary bullets.

Fundamentals of airplane gunnery. Although the airplane machine gun differs very little from its counterpart in

use by ground troops, in so far as the factors which determine

its ballistic qualities are concerned, nevertheless the problems

of air gunnery differ markedly from those normally encountered in musketry. For the rifleman, a correct estimation of

windage is essential to accuracy; in air combat, since both gun

and target are in the same air stream, and receive the same

acceleration from the wind, windage does not enter into the

calculation. The other essential calculation for the rifleman is

that of range. In theory, range must enter into airplane gunnery also. However, such is the inherent inaccuracy of fire

from one airplane on another, due to the tremendous speeds

involved, that long range firing is regarded as a mere waste of

ammunition, and is accordingly dismissed from consideration.

The value of this rule is enhanced by considerations of psychic

nature: for, while shock action has no place in normal air combat, nevertheless the inculcation of a desire to close with the

enemy has some of the same moral value attached to it by the

infantry. For these reasons, in air combat, 100 yards is considered effective range, and 200 yards extreme range, while

the airman is urged to withhold his fire until the enemy is

within 50 yards. Consequently, in air gunnery, all ranges are

point-blank, and the elevation of the piece is neglected. For all

practical purposes therefore, the trajectory of the bullet in air

gunnery may be regarded as rectilinear rather than parabolic.

The most difficult problem in air gunnery is due to the

rapidity of movement of both gun and target. This sometimes

results in a correspondingly rapid change of deflection in the

target. It is to allow for this factor that special sights have been

designed for the airplane gun.

To consider first the simpler case of the fixed-mount gun,

the only deflection which must be taken into account is that

due to the motion of the target, since the acceleration due to

the motion of the airplane on which the gun is mounted, is in

the direction in which the gun is aimed. That the deflection

due to the motion of the target may make a decided difference
in gunnery, will appear from a simple calculation. Let us

assume that the gunner is desirous of firing with the forward

guns on a pursuit airplane, whose path is right angles to that

of the gunner’s airplane. If he should aim at the pilot in the

hostile airplane, at a range of 150 yards, and make no

allowance for deflection due to the latter’s motion, the bullet

would pass harmlessly some twenty feet in rear of the tail surfaces of the enemy. It is obvious from this example alone that

deflection must be given great consideration. But since an

extract solution of the problem demands that both the speed

of the target and its angle of approach with reference to the

line of flight of the firing airplane be known, it is apparent that

a high degree of accuracy in estimating the deflection is thoroughly impracticable in the limited time available. Some assistance may be given the gunner, however.

One type of sight for this purpose consists of a back sight,

which is merely a bead, and a front sight of two concentric circles. Obviously, with fixed circles of a given diameter, the circle

is an accurate measure of deflection only for one combination of

speed and angle of approach. But since the speed of the target

can generally be foretold with some degree of accuracy, and its

angle of approach estimated from the appearance, the sight is

often useful as a guide. Slightly more accurate marksmanship is

possible with an optical sight, essentially the same in principle,

but not dependent on the eye of the gunner remaining in one

place. It has, however, the defect of clouding up at times, and is

then useless. The valued of this general type of sight has often

been called in question. Many pursuit pilots consider it futile to

attempt to fire, where any estimation of deflection, not readily

made with the simple bar sight, is called for.

With the flexible-mount gun, still another problem in

deflection is presented. Not only must the motion of the target

be allowed for, but it is necessary to compensate also for the

motion of the gunner’s airplane, since firing is always at an

angle to the axis of flight. This is accomplished by a wind-vane

sight, the general principle of which is shown in Figure 6. It is

apparent that the actual velocity of the bullet, which we will

call V, is the resultant of its velocity due to the action of the

explosive, V’, and that due to the motion of the airplane itself,
V”. In order therefore to hit the target, T, which is assumed as

fixed, it is necessary to aim at T’. It is apparent that the angle

T’OT, through which the gun must be deflected, is known

when the speed of the airplane and that of the bullet are

known, together with the angle T’OA. The first two factors may

be considered for all practical purposes as constants, and are

determinable by suitable tests of gun and airplane. The angle

T’OA is automatically set off by the sight, which consists of an

arm, AB, rotating about a pivot, O. On one end of the arm is

a wind vane, B, which keeps the arm parallel to the axis of the

airplane’s flight, and so makes the two angles T’OA the same.

If now the distances from the pivot, O, to the bead sight, A,

and from the pivot to the rear sight, C, are adjusted so that

Figure 6. Principle of the Wind-Vane Sight
Figure 7. Dead Spaces of the Two-Seater

they are proportional to V” and V’ respectively, the angle OCA

will be the desired angle of deflection.

Dead spaces of the airplane. By dead space is meant the

space into which the gunner cannot fire, due to the method of

mounting the gun, or into which he can fire only at the imminent risk of destroying his own machine. From this definition,

it is apparent that to the single-seater, equipped only with

fixed-mount guns, all space about it is “dead,” except that in

prolongation of the immediate axis of flight. In the case of the

two-seater, which has rear flexible-mount guns in addition,

there is less dead space. Nevertheless, as shown in Figure 7,

the rear guns have their fire blanketed in many directions by

the structure of the airplane itself.

Vulnerability of the airplane. On first inspection the airplane seems so fragile a structure that one may be pardoned

for believing that it can withstand very little punishment. In

fact, however, it is not nearly so vulnerable to hostile fire as its

appearance indicates. It is practically impossible to bring the

airman to earth by hits on the greater portion of the superficial area of the machine. In the World War it was the custom

among Allied airmen to paste small patches, marked with the

Iron Cross, over holes that had been made by German bullets

or shrapnel. It was not at all uncommon to find in many a
front line squadron airplanes which had safely returned home

and were in full commission, with forty or fifty such patches.

There are records of airplanes which received many more than

this number of “wounds” in a single fight, and yet continued

their missions to a successful conclusion.

In general, a hit on the airplane has no effect, for the vulnerable portions of the machine constitute only a small proportion

of the whole. In fact, the airplane is most often brought down by

the prior destruction of its directing personnel. Obviously, if the

pilot of a single-seater be put out of action, the airplane itself is

doomed. However, many a badly wounded airman has succeeded in making his way to the home airdrome. And where the

airplane is provided with means of dual control, the reserve pilot

also must be killed or seriously wounded, to cause the destruction of the airplane. In the past, the gasoline tank has often

proved to be the source of the destruction of the machine. With

the increased use of incendiary bullets, which marked the last

two years of the World War, the number of airplanes shot down

in flames grew ever larger. But recent inventions of puncture

proof tanks promise to neutralize this danger to a large extent.

Aside from these two vulnerable features, there are so few others

whose destruction would involve also that of the airplane, and

these occupy so little space, that only a rare chance shot could

accomplish this end.

The various considerations which govern individual combat have now been discussed. Two typical cases of the air duel

will now be examined, to illustrate the tactical methods which

have been employed in the past, and seem equally applicable

to the future.

Combat between two single-seaters. When he joins combat

with a hostile airplane, two obvious purposes fill the mind of the

pursuit pilot: to secure a position from which he may deliver fire

on his opponent with the greatest possible accuracy, and at the

same time to avoid, in so far as is consistent with the fulfillment

of the first mission, any return fire. From the previous discussion, it is evident that he occupies a position of complete safety

so long as he remains outside of the forward prolongation of the

axis of his opponent’s flight. He may thus accomplish his secondary purpose in thousands of ways. But in order to accomplish his main undertaking, the destruction of the enemy, he

must secure, as nearly as possible, that position which offers the

greatest advantages from point of gunnery.

First of all, it is desirable that changes in deflection be as

small as possible; this dictates that the axes of flight of the two

airplanes should be in prolongation of each other. Then too,

there must be time enough to aim and fire with some degree

of deliberation; obviously this condition is best satisfied when

the relative speed of the two airplanes is reduced to the minimum. These two conditions are consistent also with considerations of security, and indicate that the ideal position is that

in rear of an opponent, flying in the same direction. However,

care must be taken not to get into the “back-wash” of the

opponent. A further advantage of this position approximately

in rear of the enemy, lies in the fact that the truly vulnerable

features of the opposing airplane are thus exposed to direct

fire, for all of them lie in this same axis. The necessity of short

range firing has already been dwelt upon. If the attacker

should be able to attain this position with reference to his

adversary, and hold it long enough to deliver a good burst of

fire, his success is assured. In fact, so well recognized are the

merits of this ideal position, that the expression to “be on the

tail” of an opponent, has passed into the current language of

the airman as synonymous with holding a decisive advantage.

Needless to say, in the duel of airplanes, the position “on

the tail” is rarely secured with ease. If the enemy be both vigilant and skillful, it is indeed so difficult of attainment that

surprise has always been considered a most desirable feature

by all air fighters, and has been judged by some to be an

absolute essential. The frequency with which surprise may be

secured in the air, and the use made of this fact by the “Spad”

school of thought, has been discussed in previous chapter.

This method of attack seems to have been first brought to high

development by the Germans, under the able leadership of

Boelcke and Immelman.

The habitual procedure was to secure the advantage of altitude over the expected opponent, and to await the opportunity

for surprise. When the intended victim was seen to be below, and

appeared to be unaware of his danger, the Fokker—for such the
attacking German airplane generally was—dived like a hawk on

its prey. When but a short distance away, it poured in a rapid

burst of fire on the surprised opponent. In case this should prove

ineffective, the attacker continued on in the dive, secure in his

speed from counter-attack, and either escaped altogether, or else

climbed up again for a renewal of the fight. In the hands of these

two German airmen, and of their even more famous successor,

Richtofen,1 these tactics proved formidable, and difficult to meet.

The essential element in it was surprise. It may seem therefore

that the great stress was laid on altitude by these fighters, was

somewhat unnecessary. This was indeed carried to such

extremes that Richtofen is said to have boasted that whatever

came beneath him was doomed. But it must be recalled that

superior altitude is in essence, potential speed. Like the weather

gauge of the old-time naval battle, it gives its possessor the freedom of choice of accepting or declining battle. With it, one may

wait until the enemy is at a disadvantage, and attack with the

utmost celerity. Complete surprise is thus often obtained.

If however, the attacker fails to secure surprise, his next

recourse, if he is minded to continue the fight, is to endeavour to

get on the tail of the opponent by maneuver. This at once necessitates consideration of the probable movements of the enemy.

The latter, when apprised of the hostile presence above and in

his rear, will first endeavor to escape from this dangerous

predicament, and then perhaps to out-maneuver the attacker

and secure the advantageous position for himself, thus reversing

the positions. Should his sole thought be escape, he may simply

dive away. This however, offers little hope of success, unless he

has markedly superior speed, or has ample warning of the

impending attack. For, so long as rectilinear flight is maintained,

a simple movement on the part of the attacker restored the original advantage, and permits accurate fire to be resumed. Much

the same remarks apply to any attempt to escape by climbing on

a straight-away course. In general therefore, the enemy seeks to

escape by resorting to some form of curvilinear flight.

Curvilinear flight. It is evident from the definition of the

word, that in any form of curvilinear flight, the airplane is con

1A brief account of Richtofen’s exploits is given in “Airmen and Aircraft,” a volume

of the Ronald Aeronautic Library.
stantly changing direction. Necessarily therefore it becomes a

more difficult target, as deflection also is constantly changing.

There are none of the ideal conditions which occur when the

attacking airplane and the target are in the same straight line.

The simplest form of curvilinear flight consists in the pilot

“banking” his airplane up at an angle inversely proportional to

the radius of the turn he wishes to make, and thus maintaining a circular course in the same horizontal plane. Figure 8

shows the projection on a horizontal plane of two pursuit airplanes, banked up almost to the vertical in a very sharp turn.

In this position, since the guns of both airplanes are aimed

tangent to the circle, neither can fire effectively on the other.

In general, this is the condition that exists while two airplanes

are circling each other in the maneuver for position. Each contestant narrowly watches the movements of the other, with a

view of taking advantage of the first favorable opportunity for

straightening out on the tail of his opponent. Thus if the airplane at A should succeed in assuming some such position as

Figure 8. Curvilinear Flight

that of A’, fire can be directed momentarily on B. But if B continues in curvilinear flight, he very quickly passes out of the

line of sight.

Even though this is the simplest form of curvilinear flight, it

is apparent that it permits of an infinite number of different

maneuvers by merely changing the radius of the turn. This may

even be carried to the extent of reversing the position of the two

contestants, as may be seen by examining Figure 9. The two air-
planes are shown at A and B, as before, except that they are less

steeply banked, and are flying on the circumference of the circle,

C’. It is apparent that in this position, the advantage lies with A.

If B, however, should widen his turn, then abruptly close it by

flying on the minimum circle possible, which is assumed to be

the circle, C, he would arrive at the point B’. If A, meanwhile,

should fail to perceive and meet this maneuver in time, and

should continue on the same course, he would be at the position

A’. The advantage formerly held by A would now belong to B. Of

course, in practice, a maneuver of the simplicity shown in the

diagram, would rarely succeed. It is intended merely to illustrate

the possibilities of the case.

The importance of altitude has already been mentioned. In

actual combat, where curvilinear flight is resorted to as outlined above, the contestants do not remain at the same altitude at which the contest begins. On the contrary, each climbs

Figure 9. Changes in Curvilinear Flight

at every available chance. If one machine should be decidedly

superior to the other in this respect, the former will soon gain

the desired height, from which he may either withdraw or

renew the fight on advantageous terms. If the two machines

however, are equal in flying qualities, the contest necessarily

depends in its issue on the relative skill of the two opponents.
In addition to the simpler forms of curvilinear flight

described above, there are other acrobatic feats which may be

resorted to at times by fighting men. They all, however, consist

in some form of curvilinear flight, the objective of which is to

get on the tail of the opponent or to prevent similar action on

the part of the latter. A few of these maneuvers will be briefly

described.

The loop. The loop consists in describing with the airplane

a complete circle in a vertical plane. This was sometimes

resorted to in the combats of the World War. Rickenbacker

describes such a maneuver, in a contest he witnessed between

two German pilots in the Albatross type of pursuit airplane,

and an American airman in a Nieuport. The Nieuport had succeeded in getting on the tail of one Albatross, which dived rapidly away. The second Albatross had contrived in his turn to

fasten himself “on the tail” of the Nieuport. While proceeding

at a rapid speed, the leading Albatross suddenly looped, and

succeeded in this way in putting himself on the tail of the

Nieuport. The effort of the latter to follow the Albatross in its

maneuver resulted in tearing the fabric of the Nieuport’s wing.

Fortunately, however, the intervention of Rickenbacker at this

time succeeded in diverting the attention of the two Germans

from the crippled American, who finally made his escape.

The loop, however, has not very generally been resorted to

as a combat maneuver. It has the disadvantage of leaving the

airplane in an undesirable position for further combat in the

general case.

The tail-spin. The tail-spin consists of a downward spiral

motion of the airplane about a vertical axis. The spin is very often

the result of an unintentional “stalling” of the airplane, and

occurs when the machine is out of control. It was frequently

resorted to in the World War, partly no doubt as a ruse to attempt

to convince the enemy that the machine was out of action, partly

to offer a poor target in flying a curvilinear course. The diagram

in Figure I0 shows the path of the airplane. The spin as a combat maneuver has certain disadvantages: the speed of the drop

is comparatively slow, so that as a real effort to escape, it rarely

proves successful; judging from many examples of the World

War, it was very generally a failure as a ruse; furthermore the
axis. It necessitates high speed for its performance, and has

the advantage of loosing little or no altitude. It was not however in general use as a maneuver in the fighting of the World

War, though sometimes employed.

The Immelman turn. The Immelman turn consists in making a half loop. From the upside down position at the top of the

loop, the airplane then executes a half roll, so that, on completion of the maneuver, the course of the airplane has been

expedient gives no chance for a counter-attack, and leaves the

pilot in a vulnerable position when the recovery from the spin is

made, in case his adversary has followed him down.

The Roll. The roll (Figure 11) is somewhat similar to the

spin, except that the maneuver is executed about a horizontal

Figure 10. The Tail-Spin

(Reproduced by permission of the U. S. Army Air Corps)
Figure 11. The Barrel Roll

(Reproduced by permission of the U. S. Army Air Corps)

changed 180 degrees, and altitude has been gained. The Immelman turn is shown in Figure 12. This maneuver received its

name from its famous exponent, and was very widely used in the

combats of the World War. It was resorted to when two opponents

met in the air with courses approximately 180 degrees apart. At

the end of the turn, if the time and space factors have been correctly estimated, the airplane was in an advantageous position to

come in on the tail of the adversary.

Other maneuvers. It is evident from the above brief

descriptions of the more common among them, that an infinite

number of combinations of maneuvers is possible. Where surprise is lacking, the contest will usually be decided by the relative skill of the two contestants, provided they are equipped

with machines of approximately the same characteristics. If

the two should be of approximately equal skill, the outcome

will often be indecisive. Bursts of fire may be delivered from

time to time, but usually from too disadvantageous an angle

to secure results. Eventually, one or the other withdraws,

either fearing a shortage of fuel, or wearied with a contest in

which he can hope to obtain no advantage. The greatest

emphasis must therefore be laid on skill in flying and on the

power of maneuver. Nevertheless we must not discount too

heavily the value of daring. Perhaps the greatest exemplar of
Figure 12. The Immelman Turn

(Reproduced by permission of the U. S. Army Air Corps)

this quality was Guynemer.2 Impatient for combat and utterly

reckless of all odds, he paid very little heed to the value of

maneuver, but attacked with furor, whatever might be the relative advantages of numbers or of position. Audacity became

a principle in itself, and the long list of German airmen who

fell victims to his guns, bears eloquent witness of the effectiveness of his methods. But seldom did Guynemer return

from a fight without his airplane being fairly riddled with bullet holes. His most ardent admirer could scarcely escape the

belief that chance played an uncommonly large part in his

success, and a wish that his splendid courage had been tempered with greater discretion, so that he might have lived to

secure an even greater number of victories and to enjoy his

well earned fame.

2A brief account of Guynemer’s exploits appears in “Airmen and Aircraft,” a volume

of he Ronald Aeronautic Library.
From the discussions which have preceded, it must not be

assumed that no firing ever takes place except from the position

on the tail, nor that air combat is invariably opened from this

position. It is merely the ideal position, which is always sought

but often not attained. Sometimes, in the air duel, one of the contestants will fire from a much more disadvantageous position,

and while the chances of success are thereby reduced, nevertheless many airplanes have been shot down in this manner.

This occurs with particular frequency in the mêlée, which often

results from the combat of formations of airplanes, and which in

the World War was given the highly descriptive name of “dog

fight.” Bishop paints a vivid picture of the methods of gunnery

necessary in such a combat. In the story of his career as an air

fighter, he says: “Here a flash of the Hun machine, then a flash

of silver as my squadron commander would whizz by. All the

time I would be the same mix-up myself, every now and then

finding a red machine in front of me and getting in a round or

two of quick shots. There was no need to hesitate about firing

when the right color flitted about your nose. Firing one moment,

you would have to concentrate all your mind and muscle the

next in doing a quick turn to avoid a collision.”

Combat between the singler-seater and the two-seater. In

the attack of a two-seater, surprise has essentially the same

value as described before in the duel of the two single-seaters,

and the factors which depend on gunnery also are practically

identical. The dead spaces of the two-seater, however, as previously noted, are by no means so extensive. Accordingly in the

attack of the two-seater, the single-seater attempts to keep

underneath and directly in rear of it, and to avoid the position

behind and above, which is one of safety in the case of the

single-seater, but is under fire of the rear guns of the two-seater.

The two-seater, when attacked, does not attempt to extricate

itself in exactly the same manner as would a single-seater, in like

case. In executing the various maneuvers that were described

above, the wings of the airplane are often subjected to dynamic

loads which the pursuit airplane can bear with entire safety, but

which would closely approach the breaking point of the twoseaters. Even where this is not the case the comparatively inferior speed and maneuverability of the two-seater deprive it of all
chance of counter-attacking with its front guns. However, in

compensation, the two-seater requires a smaller range of

maneuverability, in order to bring the defensive power of its rear

guns to bear. A comparatively slight turn serves to swerve the tail

of the machine out of the line of fire, and so enables the rear gunner to counter-attack. To meet this maneuver, the attacker turns

also, but in an opposite sense, so that he may keep the protecting tail and fuselage of the two-seater interposed between himself and the rear guns.

While the two-seater is inferior in speed and maneuverability, nevertheless a contest such as that described is by no

means a one-sided fight. The rear guns of the two-seater and

the smaller degree of maneuverability required, do much to

even the odds. In fact, the two-seater has such defensive

power that it is rarely attacked by a lone pursuit airplane,

until surprise has been secured. But while the two-seater is

not at a hopeless disadvantage, once the fight has resolved

itself into a maneuver for position, nevertheless the history of

air combat shows that duels of this character have more often

resulted in a victory for the single-seater. This may be attributed, in large measure, to the fact that the characteristics of

the single-seater enable it to accept or decline combat at will.

Hence it will often obtain surprise and always have the moral

advantage which accrues to the attacker.

The duel between the single-seater and two-seater will

probably diminish in importance with time. Rarely in the

future will pursuit aviation operation individually. Among twoseaters also the formation will be the rule. Even in the mêlée,

or in the exploitation of an initial success, the duel of this type

probably will be seldom encountered.

Defensive formations. The word “formation” as employed in

air tactics, denotes any number of airplanes which are led and

maneuvered as a unit. The word has no administrative significance. Often, in fact, the formation is temporary in nature,

although this is usually undesirable, since better teamwork is

secured when the same men habitually fly and fight together.

The formation may be either offensive or defensive in character. The end sought is the same in either case, but the arrangement and particularly the conduct of the formation depend on
the character of the action, so that it is convenient to discuss the

two classes separately. The distinction between them is based

entirely on their habitual attitudes in strictly air warfare, from

which it follows that the offensive formation is used solely by

pursuit aviation. It will therefore be treated in the chapter

devoted to that subject. The defensive formation, on the other

hand, is never employed by pursuit aviation, but is the almost

invariable rule in operations of attack and of bombardment aviation, and is used on occasion by observation aviation also.

The defensive formation is designed to utilize the power of

numbers, both by increasing the volume of fire and by so arranging the airplanes in the formation that the strength of one may

guard the weakness of the other. In the previous descriptions of

the air duel, the existence of a dead space in rear of the tail of

every airplane was noted. In proportion as the maneuverability

of the machine decreases, the danger of an enemy’s being able to

remain in the dead space obviously increases. Thus the twoseater, as stated before, may often maneuver so as to keep a lone

pursuit airplane from securing this advantageous position.

Figure 13. Plan of a Formation
after the leader being outside of and above the preceding one.

While the basic feature of the formation is good cross fire, it

also permits ready observation of the leader and allows the

others to conform to his movements, an obvious necessity

where the leader exercises command in the air entirely by

means of his example and a few visual signals.

With the heavier and less maneuverable bombardment airplane, however, this is far more difficult of accomplishment;

the contest therefore generally results in the awkward bomber

falling a prey to the handy pursuit airplane. Even the twoseater is not in much better case when attacked by several

pursuit airplanes––which is the almost invariable rule in war;

for while it is maneuvering to avoid one of the attackers, the

remainder can profit by this action to place themselves in

position for a fatal blow. Against such attacks, in fact, the twoseater has no adequate defense. To even the odds which lack

of maneuverability places against the heavier airplane, the formation was designed. In it, the airplanes are so arranged that

the dead spaces of one are covered by flanking fire from one or

more neighbors, and no enemy can attack without running

the gauntlet of this fire. The arrangement of the formation is

shown in Figure 13. The airplanes are arranged in the form of

an inverted “V”, with the leader at the apex. The airplanes are

doubly echeloned, both in plan and in altitude, each airplane

Figure 14. Plan of a Nine-Plane Formation
It is evident that the formation is far less maneuverable

than would be the individual airplane. However, the types of

airplanes which adopt the defensive formation are already at

such a disadvantage in this respect, when compared with the

pursuit airplane, that the small additional sacrifice demanded

is well worth the additional defensive power acquired through

the formation. In fact the tactics of the defensive formation

practically resigns all attempt at maneuver, except in avoiding

antiaircraft fire, which will be discussed in a later chapter.

When attack in the air is imminent, the airplanes of the defensive formation close in until the space between them is just

enough to permit safe flying, and then rely on the concentrated fire of the formation with its mutually supporting guns,

for protection.

The single formation usually consists of from three to nine

airplanes. A larger number than nine usually proves too difficult

to handle. The inverted “V” is generally adopted when the number of airplanes does not exceed five. It is apparent that if the

number becomes too large, the rearmost airplanes of the formation are placed beyond mutual supporting distance, so that additional numbers do not add materially to the fire power of the formation. Sometimes one or more airplanes are placed in the base

of the “V,” to overcome this defect. In Figure 14, there is shown

a common arrangement of a nine-plane formation: in fact, it consists of three closely joined formations.

Chains of formations. The phrase “chain of formations”

was coined during the World War to describe a command consisting of two or more formations engaged on a common mission. Since the defensive formation is comparatively unmaneuverable, it is apparent that numbers do not offer a

proportionately greater degree of safety in combat between

defensive formations and hostile pursuit aviation. Two large

formations can rarely assist each other. Nevertheless mass

attacks will be the rule in the employment of both bombardment and attack aviation; for their missions, which are determined by the demands of the ground situation, will often

demand mass action; and while the different formations can

do little to render each other aid, nevertheless effective sup-
port by friendly pursuit aviation can best be given, in the general case, when the defensive formations operate in mass.

Before leaving the subject of the defensive formation, it is

well to note one physical disadvantage it has, which is quite

apart from those inherent in the defensive, in general. This

arises from the fact that the airplanes which are attacked,

must rely entirely on their comrades for protection, and are

practically excluded from making any efforts directly on their

own behalf. Even when themselves subjected to intense fire,

they must nevertheless concentrate their whole attention on

the protection of their comrades.
CHAPTER IV

THE SERVICE OF OBSERVATION

Observation Aviation

History of observation aviation. In the beginning all aviation was observation. For many years no other use was contemplated for it. When, in the course of time, the components

of the air force were evolved, it was, therefore, entirely natural

that the whole doctrine of air warfare should be unduly influenced by the surroundings of its infancy, and should tend to

revolve about the service of observation. This unfortunate tendency was accentuated by the fact that very few military men,

outside of the air force itself, came into intimate contact with

the work of the latter, while all of them were familiar with the

duties performed by observation aviation. Man is prone to be

guided by his personal experiences, and to think of the

unknown in terms of the known. It is natural, on these

accounts, that to many military men, the word aviation connotes observation aviation; the vast field of activity of the Air

Force is often disregarded. This has many unfortunate results.

For example, according to one school of thought, pursuit aviation existed solely for the purpose of preventing hostile observation and of facilitating our own. Such a view is, of course,

entirely too narrow in its scope. Many other examples of a similar kind might be cited, and there can be little doubt that this

attitude has done much to retard the progress of the air force.

Notwithstanding this obstacle, the Air Force continued to

grow, until by the end of the World War, it comprised about

three-fourths of all the airplanes on the western front, and

undoubtedly would have increased in relative importance with

time.

But if observation aviation dwindled in relative numerical

strength, it does not by any means follow that either its

absolute strength or its importance diminished. Quite the con89
trary condition existed. But the principle of mass, of such vital

importance where essentially combatant forces are concerned,

is comparatively unimportant to a service, such as observation

aviation is, in fact. For example, two pursuit airplanes may be

considered to have four times the fighting power of one airplane; but two observation airplanes, operating over a given

area, accomplish no more, in so far as essentially observation

duties are concerned, than a single airplane.

The general effect of observation aviation on war. A

writer who obtained an interview with von Kluck shortly after

the war, represents the latter as somewhat heatedly damning

the invention of the airplane, for having disclosed the movement of troops, and so rendered abortive some of the strokes

of generalship, which might otherwise have resulted in brilliant victories. The complaint is not without cause; for notably

on August 22, 1914, and again on September 4, 1914, it was

primarily the British airmen whose activities revealed to their

commander the movements of the German First Army, and

enabled the British to take full advantage of the situation. But

although the brilliant work of Henderson and his fellow aviators deserved the encomium bestowed on them by Lord

French, it is nevertheless abundantly clear that these early

efforts of observation aviation served only to illumine occasional spots, and not to dispel the general “fog of war.” Both

sides in the contest made many decisions which were obviously based on conjecture rather than on ascertained fact.

However, even if the air service of the British Expeditionary

Force had possessed in 1914, the perfection of technique they

were to attain four years later, the lament of von Kluck over

the passing of generalship would still have been pure hyperbole. In fact, the coming of the observation airplane has not so

much created a new set of conditions, as it has completed a

cycle, and restored a situation which formerly was the rule,

and merely seemed to be passing.

In ancient and mediaeval times the general could usually

see the field of battle, with friend and foe in their various stations, stretched out like a panorama before his gaze. To do

this, he had only to secure the vantage point of some neighboring hill, or perhaps only the superior view obtained from
horseback. Indeed, from the viewpoint of the modern soldier,

the thoroughness with which the general of old obtained his

information of the enemy seems almost unbelievable. The

intelligence officer of an army of today can scarcely repress a

smile as he reads of how Marius, in his great battle with the

Cimbri, actually agree with the barbarian tribesmen on a time

and place for the meeting. Nor was this example at variance

with the customs of the time, for it was the rule in the battles

of ancient Rome that they took place only when both parties

to the contest were willing, and both were thoroughly cognizant of time and place, and generally also fairly well

acquainted with the strength of the enemy.

In spite of this seeming plethora of information, surprise

was by no means precluded from the principles of war, and

then, as now, it was the “thinking bayonet” which won. Even

though the enemy’s dispositions could be plainly seen, often it

was easy to draw erroneous conclusion as to his intentions.

Thus we can readily believe that when the consuls Paulus and

Varro at Cannae saw Hannibal’s center give way before the

determined onset of the Romans, they were far from detecting

the true significance of the movement. To them it was the

beginning of a Carthaginian route; in fact it was a predetermined maneuver by the ingenious Hannibal, which resulted,

as he had planned, in the double envelopment of the Romans

and their complete overthrow. Many other examples of a similar kind might be taken from the annals of wars of the period

anterior to the nineteenth century.

But with the birth of the tremendous industrial development, which has characterized the last century, the conditions

of warfare underwent, in this respect, a radical change.

Armies of a size formerly undreamed of can now be maintained in the field. Inevitably, therefore, lines of battle grew in

length until they could no longer come within the vision of one

man. Communications improved also, but the best of communications do not balance the fact that the general could no

longer see with his own eyes. He was compelled to rely on hundreds of others, who could rarely see their own small part in

its true relationship to the whole; and even where this was not

true, it was too often impracticable to transmit information in
time for it to be of value. The 

fog of war increased to a density hitherto unknown, and surprise became relatively easy to

secure. This condition reached its maximum of intensity at

about the time of the Russo-Japanese war. When the war of

1914 burst on the world, it was already beginning to wane.

Influence of observation aviation on the world war.

That the airplane, in the early days of the World War, served to

dispel the “fog of war” for limited periods, has already been

stated. However, by the time air observation had reached such

a stage that genuinely effective and reliable service could be

furnished, fighting on the western front had passed into the

period of stabilization, which was destined to last till 1918. On

the daily routine of trench warfare, the observation airplane

exercised an influence which is not generally appreciated,

while at the same time it played an important part in maintaining that monotonous deadlock. In the daily fighting of

those long years, which accomplished nothing decisive and yet

took such an enormous toll of life, artillery played an extraordinarily important rôle.

It is no exaggerated claim, however, to state that artillery,

under those circumstances, would have been far less effective

but for the service rendered it by the airplane. The actual

observation of fire was a notable assistance; it was resorted to

all the more frequently, as time permitted full advantage to be

taken of all terrain features, so that targets of interest were

generally defiladed from observation by other agencies than

the airplane. But even greater in importance was the information furnished by the airplane photograph. From it were compiled the data by means of which maps were corrected and

brought up to date. Moreover, a careful study and interpretation of the photograph gave an enormous mass of information

of the enemy, from it, there were often located his batteries,

command posts, communications, dug-outs, ammunition

dumps, strong points, and centers of resistance; it would even

show the extent to which paths and roads were frequented; it

gave, in short, a fairly complete picture of the daily routine of

the enemy’s life. Of course, the airplane photograph was not

the only source of all this information. But without the accuracy of location, which it made possible, the daily fire of
artillery could never have been so effectively directed, and the

nature of the trench warfare of the World War would have been

vastly modified.

The maintenance of the deadlock in the west was largely

the result of an equilibrium of power. For nearly four years

neither side could secure enough superiority to push through

a decisive action. This condition was, however, undoubtedly

due in part to air observation, which made it so difficult to

secure strategical surprise on the grand scale. Both sides

endeavoured to guard against the eye in the air. Particularly in

the German operations of the spring of 1918, measures were

carried out with a thoroughness previously unheard of. All

movements were made at night. So much emphasis was laid

on air observation that troops were especially trained with a

view of securing what was termed “airplane discipline.”

In spite of all these measures, the vast operations which

were being carried out did not escape the airman’s observation. The best regulated movements sometimes went astray;

repeatedly the dawn disclosed to the reconnoitering airplane

the tail of a column that had been delayed in reaching the

cover of its billets. But even more enlightening was the

increase in the supply establishments in rear areas, which

was the almost invariable forerunner of a great attack. In spite

of the sheer impossibility of hiding all the tell-tale evidence of

an impending attack, nevertheless both sides, at different

times in 1918, secured more or less complete surprise. Either,

one of the opponents would be lulled into a false security and

allow air observation to be conducted in a perfunctory manner, or else the evidence, although gathered in sufficient abundance, would be given an erroneous interpretation. The number of such instances was small, however, compared with

what they undoubtedly would have been but for the observation airplane. It will thus be seen to have played an important

part in reducing the World War to an artless struggle of attrition, where only numbers and stamina seemed to count.

Some lessons of the World War. Important as are the

services of the airplane in periods of stabilization, they are of

even greater value when the trenches are left behind and decisions are sought in the open field. This may seem paradoxical
in view of the tendency of air observation to maintain stabilization. But if we examine into the sources of information of

the World War, and above all into the means of communication, and compare the functioning of these in stabilized and in

mobile warfare, the reason for the enhanced value of the airplane in open warfare, becomes plain. In the ordinary routine

of trench warfare the sources of information were many and

varied, and communication was rapid and reliable. If the air

service be omitted temporarily from consideration, front line

information of the enemy came largely from the reports of

ground observers, from prisoners, and from captured documents. Time was rarely an important factor, so that the various echelons of command could thoroughly work these valuable mines of information, and utilize the product at their

leisure. For example, if any information of our own troops were

needed, a telephone call produced it almost immediately.

When the telephone, the most useful of all means of communication, failed for any reason, the radio, the buzzer, or even a

runner, proved acceptable substitutes. Such were the conditions of stabilization. 

How different is the picture presented in the forward rush

of an offensive. Time has now become all important and

accordingly affects the value of various sources of information.

For example, prisoners can be given only a hasty examination;

they have a certain value as a means of identification of the

hostile forces opposing, but such knowledge as they may have

is almost invariably confined to their immediate surroundings

and their own organization, and this information, by the time

of their capture, has often ceased to be of any but historical

interest. Observation posts can generally be established; but

observers find it hard to see through the smoke and dust of

battle, and even harder to transmit to the command posts in

rear such information as they may acquire. Documents likewise, while often of great general value, rarely assist in the

task immediately at hand.

Perhaps the information which is the most vital in the

attack, both to the supporting artillery and to the commanders in rear, is the exact location of the friendly assault units.

Often this information alone is enough for all immediate necessary decisions. This is particularly the case where artillery

support takes the form of the rolling barrage, so familiar in the

operations of the World War; but even where successive concentrations are used, it is of great value. It would seem to the

casual observer that this information would be quite easy to

obtain; but the earlier attacks of the war made painfully evident the difficultly of securing this information from the troops

themselves. This fact is easily explicable, when the conditions

are understood. The ultimate source of such information is

generally the company or platoon commander. His attention is

almost always completely engrossed with the fight on hand,

and he may be readily pardoned if the importance of reporting

his exact location is often lost to view. Even, however, when

this is not the case, it is not always as simple as it seems for

troops to plot their location accurately on a map in the heat of

battle. This is, in fact, one of those simple things which prove

so tremendously difficult in war.

Nor is this the greatest obstacle, for it is overcome more

often than the lack of rapid and reliable communication. Telephones require time for their installation, and the wires are

cut with painful frequency by shell fire or moving vehicles.

Radio gives equal information to the enemy, unless a code be

used; and coding and decoding are slow processes. Runners

too are slow, and all too frequently fail to reach their destination: the casualty rate among this class was appallingly high

in the World War.

In view of these considerations, all of the combatants, after

many disheartening failures, finally came to rely on the air

observer for this important information. In so far as the fighting below him was concerned, the latter was placed in comparative security; with observation as his only task, he could

concentrate his entire attention on it. Communication offered

no difficulties, for the high speed of the airplane enabled him

to cover the few miles necessary in time for his information to

be of full value. While, for the obvious reasons, no source of

information was ignored, the airplane finally came to be generally regarded as the most reliable means of obtaining timely

information in battle.
Future warfare. It is necessary here to repeat the caution

that the teachings of the World War cannot be accepted blindly

as the unvarying guide for future action; for, although there is

no such thing as “normal” warfare, nevertheless the World

War maybe called in a figurative sense, highly abnormal.

Notwithstanding this fact, we may draw from it more valuable

lessons in regard to observation aviation, than in regard to any

component of the air force. We may accordingly accept the

teachings of the World War with fewer reservations. This

results from several causes. Observation aviation has a longer

history than the Air Force: it may be said to have reached

adulthood, while the latter has scarcely grown to childhood. In

consequence of this, observation aviation may be expected to

undergo fewer radical changes with the passage of time. Then

too, its duties, which are largely those of a service, demand an

intimate liaison with the ground troops for whom it works, and

have something of the stability of the latter. There are certain

unvarying, almost routine labors observation aviation must

perform, which seem unlikely to change, except in unimportant details. These conditions permit the student of observation aviation to apply the lessons of the World War, with a feeling of being on reasonably firm ground.

Qualifications of the observer. It is obvious that an

untrained observer, ignorant alike of the tactics and of the

technique of the troops whom he serves, would know neither

what to look for, nor the significance of what he chanced to

see. His report not only would be of little value, but might even

prove a source of danger, if the justifiable negative inferences

should be drawn. Training is, therefore, obviously essential.

But the extent to which this should go is not so widely recognized. The area that is usually covered by the observer, is so

extensive as to represent the sphere of responsibility of a general officer. 

The observer, whose work is to be of great worth, must see,

as it were, with the eyes of the general. It is evident therefore

that the ideal observer not only should have the qualifications

imposed by his flying duties, but should also possess those of

the trained general staff officer. 
Of course, in a major war, this ideal will never be even

closely approached in the American army. Men with such

qualifications will be far too few to permit the assignment of

thirteen of them to each observation squadron. But the Air

Corps, on whom will fall the burden of providing competent

observers, must at least bend every effort towards training the

older and more experienced pilots with this end in view, so

long as existing policies hold. It seems likely however that the

day will arrive when general staff officers, and even the general

himself, will not be content to delegate this important duty of

personal reconnaissance to a subordinate, but will insist on

receiving first-hand impressions and information by personal

airplane observation. A conspicuous example in the World War

was the action of General Chaytor in the Sinai campaign.

There are of course many obstacles in the way of this practice becoming habitual. It is now generally agreed that the

observer must also be a pilot: for the old system, under which

the observer was unable to pilot the machine, obviously subjected him to a double hazard, for the serious wounding of the

pilot meant the loss of the observer also. The general staff officer of the future would also under this assumption find it necessary to become a pilot, and to follow this training with special instruction in observation.

Position of the observer. When the American army

entered the World War, it found in the observation service its

two chief allies, a marked difference in technique. With the

British, the pilot was also the observer, while the occupant of

the rear cockpit of the machine acted merely as a look-out and

machine gunner. With the French, on the other hand, the

observer occupied the rear seat and had no part in piloting the

airplane, although he was the commander of the machine.

Each system has its advantages and disadvantages. In the

French system, the observer is in the unfortunate position of

serving two masters: if he concentrates his attention on the

ground, he runs the risk of being surprised and shot down by

hostile pursuit aviation; if, on the other hand, he keeps a vigilant watch for the approach of hostile airmen, he is all too apt

to slight the performance of his main duty. Furthermore communication between the pilot and the observer is never per-
fect: under the most favorable circumstances, it is far easier

for a man to put his machine in the exact position he desires,

than it is to direct some one else of equal skill. A disadvantage

of the British system lies in the fact that the pilot sometimes

has his entire attention concentrated on flying the machine:

this however, is rarely a serious defect, for after long experience, flying becomes nearly automatic, and the pilot nearly

always has one hand free to work the camera or radio, or to

write a brief message. And certainly, since the great danger in

the air lies towards the rear, the pilot ordinarily can divert his

attention from air matters, far more safely than can the

observer.

Of course, in the World War, men were numerous and time

lacking. Under the French system, pilot and observer, training

simultaneously, could be made proficient in less time than

could one man, receiving instruction in both subjects. The

system accordingly made an important appeal on this ground.

It was adopted by the American army, which was influenced

to this decision by two other facts: the policy at that time was

to detail observers from the other arms of the service, and

training of the observer as a pilot was considered as unnecessary. Now that both of these policies have been reversed, it

seems desirable that the other system of observation should

be given at least an experimental trial.

Tactical objective of observation aviation. All branches

of aviation with the exception of pursuit, have two distinctive

rôles—one determined by the air situation, the other by the

ground situation. The latter is of course the all-important duty

of observation aviation, whose reason for existence lies in its

ability to furnish desired information to the combatant arms

for whom it works. During the World War, the observation

units belonging to the various echelons of command, had definite geographical areas assigned to them, in which they were

responsible for obtaining all classes of information. Thus the

corps squadron would observe to a certain depth in the

enemy’s lines, where the army squadron would take up the

responsibility. This had advantages in the situation peculiar to

the World War, but there has been a tendency since to preserve these limitations in all kinds of situations, to many of
which they are wholly inapplicable. Thus, to state as a general

rule that the divisional squadron observes to a depth of 5

miles in hostile territory, the corps squadron to a depth of 10

miles, and so on, is a wholly artificial rule. The only good guide

in this matter is the area of responsibility of the commander of

the unit to which the observation squadron belongs: the latter’s zone of observation is exactly conterminous with the former area. Of course where various echelons of command are

operating in the same theatre, it is desirable that the limits of

responsibility of their respective observation units be well

defined, so that there will be neither overlapping nor gaps.

This is done for each special situation as it arises, with due

regard to an equal distribution of work. The boundary lines of

these zones of responsibility should never be artificial ones,

but well marked terrain features, such as roads or rivers.

Classes of observation. During the World War there arose

a tendency towards specialization, the corps squadrons

diverging more and more from the army squadrons, both in

their duties and in the manner of their performance. Whatever

its merits at the time, there seems no good reason for preserving this distinction. Problems of supply and training obviously dictate that specialization be reduced to a minimum, nor

does there seem, in this case to be any weighty tactical reasons to the contrary. There will, of course, be numerous differences in the duties habitually assigned to the various

squadrons. Thus the liaison mission (which is described later)

will usually be executed by the divisional squadrons; but occasions will arise when the army commander will call upon the

army squadrons to perform this duty. The army squadrons

will usually be called upon to penetrate more deeply into

enemy territory than the divisional squadrons; but a detached

division may desire a reconnaissance to a depth of 75 miles,

and would unhesitatingly call upon its organic squadron for

the duty. For these reasons it seems preferable that all observation squadrons, whether assigned to division, corps, army,

or general headquarters, should be entirely alike in training,

strength, and equipment; and all should be able to execute

any of the missions that may fall to the lot of any squadron.
The air situation. Although the liaison between the observation squadron and the unit it serves must be of the most

intimate character, and the demands of the latter form the

basis of the duties of the former, nevertheless the work of the

observation squadron, in its execution, is influenced to a far

greater extent by the air situation than the ground situation.

For example, whether the division attacks or defends, pursues

or retreats, there is a certain sameness about the work of the

observation squadron, unless indeed the situation reaches a

character so unusual as to warrant the complete diversion of

the squadron from observation duties. But there will be a

marked difference in the execution of missions when there is

no hostile pursuit aviation to be feared, and when, on the

other hand, the enemy’s pursuit units are strong, alert, and

aggressive. Under the first named conditions, single airplanes

can go and come at will, can fly at almost any altitude they

desire, and can be guided entirely by the ground situation,

unhindered by any fear of molestation.

It is quite another matter when hostile pursuit is active.

Other means must then be adopted. Single airplanes may go

out as before; but either they must carefully time their sorties

so as to avoid the enemy, or else they must take advantage of

the protection of friendly pursuit aviation—and this as will be

seen in a subsequent chapter, cannot be given on every

demand. Generally, in fact, the observation squadron will have

to forego the execution of missions by single airplanes, and

will have to provide the local security given by the formation.

Obviously, when this becomes necessary, the number of missions which may be executed, is reduced to one-third or onefifth of its former number.

Of course, it may be urged that a single airplane stands a

better chance of avoiding discovery than would a formation,

and that the latter, too, would be inevitably doomed should it

fall in with a large force of hostile pursuit aviation—an argument in favor of continuing the employment of individual airplanes. This is no doubt often the case. But the small formation is not greatly more conspicuous in the air, and it can hold

off small forces of attacking airplanes, where the individual

would be destroyed. But of even greater importance is the fact
that the observer can concentrate his attention on the ground

situation, when he is escorted by other protective airplanes,

with the assurance that his comrades in rear of the formation

will give ample warning of the approach of hostile aircraft.

Visibility. A question of paramount importance in observation is the distance to which the observer can see. This may

be limited by a number of different factors. The first to suggest

themselves to mind are the curvature of the earth’s surface,

and the presence of such intervening obstacles as hills or

woods. But while these are the most frequent cause of

obstruction of the view of the ground observer, they rarely

exercise any great influence in air observation. In so far as the

earth’s curvature is concerned, a simple approximate formula

expresses the relationship; the distance of the visible horizon

from the observer in the airplane is equal in miles to one and

one-fourth times the square root of the height of the observer

in feet. Thus, at an altitude of 10,000 feet, the observer finds

his view cut off by the earth’s surface at a distance of 125 miles.

It is apparent from this example that this factor will rarely

be a serious limitation on observation. Nor are the other obstacles mentioned of greater moment, since the altitude to which

the airplane may go, and the velocity of the machine, enable it

to transverse any barrier and quickly see the “other side of the

hill.” In fact, overhead cover is essential in the general case, to

protect any spot from the eye of the air observer. However,

clouds and fog, for the reasons which have already been discussed, may so limit the view of the observer as entirely to

negative his efforts. Also smoke, dust, and partly invisible

water vapor—from which the atmosphere is never entirely

free—are always inimical to good observation. In regard to

these factors, however, the air observer has a decided advantage over the man on the ground. The stratum of dust and

smoke rarely extends more than a few hundred feet above the

surface of the earth; accordingly, the visual ray to the air

observer, being more nearly vertical, has to penetrate a

smaller distance through this inhospitable medium than does

the horizontal ray striking the eye of the man on the ground.

For this reason, objects viewed from the air are usually seen
more clearly and distinctly, than when seen from an equal distance along the surface of the ground.

Effect of altitude on visibility. We are accustomed to

measure horizontal distances in miles, and vertical distances

in feet; which accounts perhaps for the erroneous belief that

air observation is utterly useless once the airplane has

ascended to an altitude of more than a few thousand feet. This

seems incomparably farther from the objective than a mere

half-mile measured along the surface of the earth. Of course,

in actual fact, it is the distance alone which counts, whether

its longer component be horizontal or vertical, except that the

latter condition, for reasons stated in the preceding paragraph, is the more favorable to observation. Many figures have

been given from time to time, showing the altitudes from

which various objectives on the surface of the earth may be

recognized. These however, are apt to be misleading; for too

many factors other than altitude enter into the question, and

really determine the answer. Thus a recent photograph, taken

from 19,000 feet showed such details as automobiles on a

street, quite clearly; one could rarely obtain similar results

from a visual reconnaissance. In general, it may be accepted

as a rule that the observer will descend to the altitude necessary in the actual conditions for good reconnaissance.

Effect of darkness on visibility. The influence of darkness on flying has already been discussed. Visibility at night,

as in the daytime, depends on many factors other than the

altitude of the observer. As a rough indication of the limitations placed on observation by darkness, the following facts

are of interest, but it must be understood that they represent

no invariable rule: on bright moonlight nights, movements can

readily be detected from 3,000 feet on broad white roads, while

even on roads with a darker surface, they can be seen from

1,500 feet; with a half moon, the vague outlines of objects can

be detected on white roads from 1,500 feet; with a quarter

moon however, it is necessary to descend to a few hundred

feet, to secure the same results; almost as good results can be

obtained on a clear starlight night.

These figures do not take into account the aid that may be

expected from artificial sources. For example, in the parachute
flare the observer has a valuable help to vision: it consists of

an inflammable magnesium compound, which is sustained in

the air for a time by means of a parachute. It burns for about

seven minutes, with an illumination of about half a million

candlepower, which is sufficient to illuminate the surface of

the earth brightly, during that time, over an area approximately half a mile in radius. Of course, neither this nor any

other invention can take the place of sunlight and rob darkness of the cover it affords. But they are successful in increasing the effectiveness of observation aviation, and make it a factor to be reckoned with by night as well as by day. 

Reconnaissance. Reconnaissance is defined as the examination of a given terrain by military personnel, while actually

in the field, for the purpose of obtaining military information.

It is usually divided into distance reconnaissance, on the

results of which depend the decisions of the higher commanders, and close reconnaissance, which has a more limited tactical aim.

It has been the misfortune of the air service in the past, to

suffer at times from the claims of its too enthusiastic advocates. This has occurred particularly in discussions of reconnaissance, in which it is sometimes alleged that the air service has altogether displaced cavalry, and has rendered that

arm, on that account, of greatly lessened importance. It is

quite true that the air service has taken over many features of

distant reconnaissance, which were formerly functions of cavalry; it has not however relieved the latter of all duties of this

nature. The best results will only be obtained when these two

agencies supplement the activities of each other; and it might

be pointed out, in passing, that although the air service has

diminished the importance of cavalry in one respect, it has

added greatly to its value in other ways so that the necessity

for this arm in modern war has by no means been lessened.

The work of the air service does not relieve any other arm

of the necessity for conducting its own reconnaissance. The

broad outlines of the picture may be given by the air observer,

but many of the details can be filled in only as a result of

action by the other arms. There are limitations to air reconnaissance, which either do not apply at all to ground troops,
or else apply in lesser degree. Of these the most important is

weather. Under certain conditions, which were previously

described, air observation may be altogether forbidden; in

such a case reconnaissance necessarily devolves in its entirety

on ground troops. On the other hand, there are certain widespread misconceptions of the true limitations of aircraft. 

It is altogether erroneous to state that negative information

by observation aviation is of no value. This is true in certain

circumstances, but is by no means a general rule. For example, an enemy organization may be quartered in a town, and

have such a vigilant look-out and such excellent “airplane discipline” that the reconnoitering airman fails to see a single

hostile soldier, and reports on his return that the town is

unoccupied. A reconnaissance by ground troops would practically never be misled this way. It might be mentioned however,

in this connection, that none of the combatants in the World

War quite attained to this perfection of “airplane discipline,”

and that in fact, air reconnaissance almost invariably determined with accuracy which combatant held a given town. It is

apparent too, that in open terrain, wherever objects may not

be concealed from overhead cover, negative information by the

airman may be relied on as implicitly as that derived from the

reconnaissance of ground troops. The rule then can only be

accepted which states that, under some circumstances, the air

service cannot furnish reliable negative information.

Another defect which has been alleged to exist is that air

observation is fleeting and discontinuous. This is true in small

part only. The airplane travels at a high rate of speed, but it

also travels at a high altitude, for the more general purposes

of observation, so that its angular velocity with respect to any

object on the surface of the earth is not very great. Objects do

not apparently dash by, like telegraph poles by the window of

an express train. On the contrary, to an observer at high altitude, the surface of the earth seems to stand still; sense of

motion is almost lost. A given spot then remains within view

for many minutes, even when the airplane is flying a straight

course; and should the observer desire to view it for a longer

period, he has only to circle, when he can remain in surveillance to the limit of his fuel capacity. It is apparent then, that
airplane observation is not as a rule continuous; but it can be

made so whenever the importance of the objective warrants it:

it is necessary for this accomplishment only to relieve the first

airplane with another, before the former reaches the limit of its

fuel capacity.

There is however, one important class of information that air

reconnaissance cannot obtain, namely, information leading to

identification. Often the real value of this information is not

appreciated by troops, whose attitude frequently is that it makes

no particular difference to them what regiments or divisions they

are facing. But when this information is accurately obtained for

the whole theatre of operations, it enables the commander to

reconstruct the entire order of battle of the enemy. The usual

sources of identification are prisoners, captured documents, or

information obtained from inhabitants. Air reconnaissance is

obviously unable, as a rule, to secure these.

In summation therefore, it may be stated that although the

chief burden of distant reconnaissance falls on the air service, it

does not bear it all, but shares it with cavalry; in close reconnaissance, the air service is also of the highest value, but it supplements rather than replaces the work of all the other arms.

Method of reconnaissance. Reconnaissance may be conducted by either visual or photographic means. The airplane

photograph furnishes an extremely accurate record in great

detail, which is permanent and may be studied carefully at

leisure. On this account, it is always preferable to the reports

of visual reconnaissance, where the time or light factor does

not render its use impracticable. During the World War, it was

generally considered that photographic reconnaissance was

impracticable during the early morning or late afternoon

hours, even in summer time. Since that time, there has been

a constant improvement in technical means and methods, so

that this prohibition no longer holds with its former force.

Recently in fact, photographic reconnaissance on a dark night

has resulted in obtaining a wealth of information of military

value. Moreover the time factor no longer operates to reduce

the value of the photograph to the extent that it formerly did.

In the World War, it was usually a matter of hours for the

observer to expose the film, return to the airdrome, see to its
development and printing, and place the completed print in

the hands of the commander of his staff for study. Recent

developments have greatly shortened this time, so that now

the observer may commence development immediately on

exposure, and can drop the completed photograph, in suitable

condition for study, within a few minutes.

The effect of all these improvements will undoubtedly be to

render the photographic reconnaissance the rule. It will of course

be supplemented by visual reconnaissance in all cases, but the

reports based on the latter will always be checked by the photograph, where time permits. The use of the photograph is the

invariable rule in the reconnaissance of stationary objectives,

such as defensive zones, supply establishments, or the fixtures

of lines of communication. But in some cases, visual reconnaissance alone must form the basis of decisions. This will occur the

more frequently as mobile warfare becomes the rule. A message

by radio will invariably be the more rapid means of transmitting

information, and accordingly will be resorted to when time precludes the photograph.

For example, a column of hostile reserves approaching the

battlefield may be photographed, and a more accurate estimate

formed by this means than by visual methods. But here time is

of the essence of the thing. Accordingly the observer sends in at

once by radio the location, time, strength, and direction of

march of the column, and on his return, may drop either a confirmatory message or a photograph, to insure the receipt of the

information in case the radio has failed to function.

Battle reconnaissance. Distance and close reconnaissance

tend to merge into each other as the enemy is approached. The

spheres of responsibility of the various echelons of command are

also changing, and with them, of necessity, the area for which a

given observation unit is responsible. As battle becomes imminent, the tactical measures taken by the enemy become of vital

importance. There is a marked increase of activity on the part of

the divisional observation service. Its work has generally been

confined, prior to this time to a certain amount of close reconnaissance, and to distant reconnaissance. Generally however as

battle approaches, these duties devolve rather on the corps or

some higher echelon of command, while the divisional air service devoted itself more specifically to the immediate battlefield.

While its duties vary with every situation, there are certain missions which it almost invariably has to perform upon contact. To

embrace all these characteristic missions of combat, the term

battle reconnaissance has been coined. It includes the liaison

mission, the contact mission, and such artillery missions as may

become necessary.

The liaison mission. The difficulties which were encountered in the World War in locating the advanced waves of friendly

troops, have already been described. It was noted also that the

airplane finally came to be relied on for the performance of this

duty. From this evolved the liaison mission. While executing the

mission, the observer is charged with keeping the division commander informed of the position of all his troops, and of their

needs. 

The airplane is always marked with the distinctive divisional insignia, and habitually flies low enough to permit the

troops to recognize it as their own. In the World War, where

there was no divisional air service, this mission was habitually

executed by the corps; it was the custom to attach one or more

streamers to the wings of the airplane, and to fire Very pistol

cartridges with a definite number of “stars” in the burst, as a

means of identification. This device also may be resorted to in

the future where special circumstances render it necessary.

In locating the front line, the method employed in the World

War is still adhered to at times. This consists in requiring the

front line troops that are most advanced, to display their individual panels (or in some cases, Bengal flares), either at a prearranged time or place, or else on call from the observer. This is

usually an understood pyrotechnic signal. The observer then

plots on a map the line as staked out by the panels or flares, and

drops this at the command post of the division. There are objectionable features about this method. The troops themselves are

nearly always loath to display their panels. The soldier in battle

always feels glaringly conspicuous; perhaps this feeling is

unwarranted, but it is none the less real on that account; and

accordingly he objects to any further apparent exposure. Often

too, in the heat of combat, he becomes oblivious to all but his

own immediate desires and needs, and may utterly fail to see the
signal. It is easy also for men to become confused, and to believe

that they themselves are the leading elements, when in fact,

there are other friendly troops still farther to the front. For these

reasons, experience shows, troops will display their panels only

when they have been very well trained, and thoroughly understand the importance of it to themselves. Even then, too frequent

calls from the observer will almost certainly go unanswered. It is

therefore incumbent on the observer to use this method only as

a last resort; ordinarily he must fly low enough to be able to distinguish friend from foe by their uniforms. It is usually desirable

that reports of the locations of assaulting units be received at frequent intervals. These may be sent by radio with little danger,

provided an arbitrary prearranged system of coordinates be

used, and changed often enough to avoid its solution by the

enemy. 

While the most important function of the liaison mission is

the location of the advanced elements, it must also report the

positions of the friendly supports and reserves. Often these

will be in close communication with headquarters, and hence

the work of the air observer will be superfluous. But on many

occasions, this information will be badly needed and not easily obtained; it should therefore be included in the observer’s

report as a matter of routine.

It is not sufficient that the observer report merely the location

of friendly units: he must also transmit to the proper place their

needs, as expressed by means of panels, flares, or rockets.

The contact mission. The contact mission is executed in

much the same way as the liaison mission, except that it is

concerned with the advanced elements, supports, and local

reserves of the enemy. Occasionally, the two missions may be

combined, and executed by the same observer.

The zone of responsibility of the contact observer is ordinarily limited in depth to the location of the hostile divisional

reserves. If other areas or movements are of primary interest to

the division commander, they are usually covered by sending out

special missions. Except where the division is acting in a

detached capacity, these missions of close and of distance reconnaissance, usually fall to the air service of larger units: they are
generally matters which enter into the decision of corps or army

commanders, rather than into that of a division commander.

It is primarily the duty of the contact observer to report to

his division commander locations of the enemy within his zone

of responsibility, and all hostile activity of importance. But his

duties do not end with this, for he must also report to the commander most nearly concerned, all dangers that threaten his

men. Often the friendly infantry will have no signal to express

a sudden need, or may itself be unconscious of an approaching danger, which is evident to the airman. In such cases, it is

incumbent on the latter to take immediate steps to acquaint

the persons most nearly concerned with the situation. From

his uniquely advantageous position, the airman may often see

the birth of matters of grave importance. Much depends on his

judgment, and he should accordingly be competent to understand thoroughly the tactical import of all he sees.

Artillery missions. Cooperation between the air service and

the artillery in the World War was of an intimate character, and

this class of missions reached in consequence a high stage of

development. This is, of course, entirely desirable, but it had one

disadvantage. In the long routine of siege warfare, where artillery

took a predominant rôle, the numbers of artillery missions executed by the air service far exceeded all other missions combined. This eventually led to a partial obscuring of the importance of the other tactical missions, and even to a belief on the

part of many officers that skill in the observation and adjustment

of artillery fire, when supplemented by some knowledge of photography, were the sole requisites of the good observer. Such, of

course, is by no means the case.

The class of duties performed by the air service for the

artillery may be grouped into two main divisions. These consist

in finding suitable targets for artillery fire, and in assisting the

artillery to place accurate fire on the designated objectives. 

The importance of the airplane photograph in the World War,

in enabling profitable targets to be selected for the artillery, has

already been dwelt upon. In spite of the recent advances in the

science of photography, it seems unlikely that the airplane photograph will ever again assume quite the same relative importance it held in that contest. In mobile warfare, which is usually
conceived to be the type held in store by the future, time will

more frequently preclude the use of the photograph in locating

targets, for often each minute counts. But if the air photograph

wanes in importance, it nevertheless appears that the work of

observation aviation as a whole will grow in value. The time factor in mobile warfare has the general effect of rendering all concealment more difficult, and therefore of enabling all means of

observation to function with a greater degree of ease and certainty. But to no other agency of observation, does this bring the

same increase in effectiveness as to the airplane. For, when time

is lacking, only that concealment can be utilized, which is offered

by nature unadorned; and while nature is fairly lavish in providing hills and woods to intercept horizontal vision, she affords

remarkedly little overhead cover, which must, as a rule, be constructed by man, with much expenditure of time and labor. For

example, a hostile battery, coming very rapidly into action, can

often find positions which afford flash defilade from the view of

ground observers, and in many cases even from balloon observation. It would be rare terrain however, which could give protection from the view of the airplane observer. We may expect

therefore to see an increase of the employment of observation

aviation in locating suitable targets for artillery fire. It will in fact,

become the customary procedure to assign certain battalions of

artillery, to answer calls from the airplane for fire on fleeting targets. 

The second important class of artillery missions is the

adjustment of artillery fire. The airplane, for reasons which

will be given later is used for this purpose only when the target cannot be observed from either balloon or ground observation posts. The technique of airplane observation varies in the

different services, but the general principle involved will

appear from the following description. When the target has

been selected, and both the artillery unit and the observer

have indicated to each other that they are ready, the artillery

fires. The air observer then signals to the artillery by radio the

distance and direction of the burst from the target. In doing

this, the “clock-face system” has proved satisfactory. The target is regarded as the center of a clock face, with XII o’clock

pointing north. Letters designate concentric circles at different
distances from the target, as shown in Figure 15. For example,

if the airplane signals D3, it indicates to the artillery that the

shot fell 300 yards east of the target. In this way the airplane

can continue its signals until the fire of the artillery is on the

target, the latter making the necessary corrections after each

report. Another system commonly used, consists in referring

the burst to an imaginary line connecting the target and the

firing artillery. In this system the deflection and range deviations from the imaginary line are reported by the observer.

Figure 15. Clock-Face System

A B C D

XII

N

VI

50 yds

300 yds.

200 yds.

100 yds.

Miscellaneous missions. It is apparent that many missions

other than the more common ones which have been described,

will at times fall to the air service. Thus the carrying of messages,

or the transportation of officers on errands of importance, will

sometimes be necessary. In the World War, a type of mission was

often required, known as the command mission. At times, a

number of airplanes would be removed temporarily from their

squadron commander’s jurisdiction and held in reserve, subject

to the orders of the corps or army commander only, for the purpose of verifying or supplementing information already gathered
in the usual way. This procedure is ordinarily inadvisable. There

are nearly always airplanes on the airdrome available in case of

emergency, on account of the reliefs which must be held for

many missions. The air service commander, like all other commanders, will have his reserve for just such contingencies. For

these reasons, the designation of special airplanes for command

purposes usually results in interfering with the proper operation

of the squadron, and in trespassing on the province of a subordinate, with no corresponding benefit. 

Exceptional missions. Long after specialization had

become an established order in aviation, there remained many

officers in other combatant arms, the pressure of whose

wartime duties had not enabled them to keep abreast of the

rapid progress in aeronautics. To many of these, an airplane

was an airplane, and any one of them might properly be called

upon to perform what any other had been known to do. Every

commander of an observation unit in the World War was called

upon at some time or other, by indignant officers of other

arms, to drive away hostile aviators. Explanations usually

served to leave the complainant silent but not always satisfied.

There is, of course, a certain amount of reason in this attitude.

We speak quite properly of a bombing airplane as being slow

and unmaneuverable. Such descriptions are however obviously relative in their application: the bombing airplane is

much faster than the express train, however slow it may be in

combat with a pursuit airplane. In fact, every airplane possesses in some degree the qualities which another may have

superlatively; it may accordingly be called upon to perform

any duty which normally belongs to another type, when a

grave emergency arises. But it may generally be anticipated

that the result will vary between slight success and utter failure.

The observation airplane is essentially unsuited to perform

the functions of pursuit aviation. It is true that several examples

may be cited from the World War where observation pilots

destroyed enemy aircraft with their front guns, in true pursuit

style. But these must be regarded as exceptional. To assign

observation aviation to pursuit missions is badly to misuse the

tool, and can only be justified by the demands of a highly

abnormal situation. 
To assign observation aviation to attack missions is more

often justifiable. Nevertheless, this procedure must be generally frowned upon. Both pilots and observers are not trained

for this duty, and therefore cannot be expected to perform it

with a high degree of effectiveness. If they are continually used

for attack duties, their skill will, of course, increase; but such

a course will inevitably result in a partial neglect of their own

proper functions. Then too, from the previous discussion of

the qualifications of the observer, it is apparent that replacements of casualties in this class will be difficult of accomplishment; they should not therefore be subjected to unnecessary losses. But, on the other hand, an observation squadron,

equipped only with obsolete airplanes of the World War type,

can bring to bear fifty-two machine guns, and can drop 5,200

pounds of bombs on each sortie. This is formidable fire power,

and every commander will naturally long to put it to use in

battle. Employment of observation in this way must not be

habitual; but occasions will undoubtedly arise in combat,

when all other needs, including observation for the present

and even for the future, become subordinated to the necessity

for the rapid and immediate development of the maximum fire

power. In these circumstances, there can be but one proper

decision: to launch every available airplane into the attack.

Smoke laying missions. Among the French in the World

War, there arose a saying that “a battery seen is a battery lost.”

Like epigrams in general, this must not be taken literally; but

it does express in figurative language the overwhelming importance of concealment. Heretofore men have depended for this

largely on the accidents of terrain and of weather. However,

the recent development of smoke laying devices for the airplane presents the possibility of artificial concealment on so

large a scale, that it may have the most far-reaching consequence on tactical methods. The use of smoke has long been

an important factor in naval warfare. The airplane now offers

the possibility of rendering it equally adaptable to land warfare, where hitherto its use has been quite limited. It may well

be a development of the near future for observation airplanes

to perform this class of duties for the ground troops, concealing them effectively from all but airplane observation.
Balloon Observation

Balloon and airplane compared. There is enough similarity

between airplane and balloon observation to warrant a general

description of the latter by comparison with the former. The airplane may proceed to great altitudes, and may observe from a

point almost vertically above the target; the balloon, on the

other hand, cannot ordinarily ascend to a height exceeding

3,500 feet, while its zone of observation extends from three to

fifteen times this distance, which results in such an obliquity of

the visual ray as to distort the view. For this reason, the airplane

observer can sense the amount of deviation of the shots in

artillery fire, both in deflection and in range, and can sense a

salvo as a whole and estimate the center of impact, with somewhat greater accuracy. Among other advantages of the airplane,

it has a wider range of vision, since some areas are hidden from

the view of the balloon observer, while practically all are open to

the aviator’s gaze. Furthermore the balloon is usually from 3 to

10 miles distance from the objects observed, a handicap which

glasses do not altogether overcome.

As against these drawbacks when compared with the airplane, the balloon has many advantages. Due to the fixed

position of the balloon in the air, the observer remains at the

same point for extended intervals; he thus becomes better “oriented” and more familiar with the zone under observation, and

can, therefore, detect the more readily any significant change.

The balloon is more vulnerable to attack than the airplane, but

to balance this, has a far more powerful defensive armament,

so that the pursuit pilot looks on balloon destruction as a particularly hazardous undertaking. Then too, the balloon

observer can devote his entire attention to the work in hand,

without feeling under the necessity of keeping a look-out for

hostile aircraft: for not only is he protected by armament, but

also sentinels on the ground give him warning of the approach

of hostile airplanes, and tell him when the times arrives to

jump with the parachute. But the most important advantage

of the balloon is its facilities for rapid communication, for it

has direct telephone connection with the unit it serves. The

future perfection of the radio telephone may diminish the
importance of this advantage, but is unlikely to overcome it for

many years. For the reasons given above, balloon observation

is always preferred over that from the airplane, whenever it is

feasible. It is obvious that many duties of reconnaissance cannot be performed by the balloon; but it finds a wide field of

usefulness in artillery observation.

Balloon missions. Although, as stated above, the balloon

cannot replace the airplane as an instrument of reconnaissance, nevertheless it may supplement the work of the latter

in the execution of the liaison and contact missions under

favorable conditions. It is seldom that the balloon observer is

able to follow the progress of the infantry, but is often possible for him to see signals from the front line, and transmit this

information to the proper places. Often however, the balloon

observer can follow artillery activity, and so form an accurate

estimate of this important element of the situation. The balloon is well fitted for general and continuous observation of a

sector over a long period of time, and this, along with artillery

missions, continues to be its chief use.

Airship Observation

Balloon and airship. From time to time a plan has been proposed for substituting for the kite balloon a small airship of

approximately the same lifting capacity. This would permit more

rapid movement from place to place, and in this respect would

prove of some advantage. However the kite balloon can be moved

under existing circumstances as rapidly as the troops it serves,

and any mobility in excess of this is so rarely needed that it

seems scarcely worth the expenditure of much labor to secure it.

It is contemplated that the small airship, while actually observing, should be in all respects similar to the kite balloon; but it is

obvious that it would than have the added vulnerability presented by the gasoline tanks—no mean addition, if helium had

been substituted for hydrogen. Furthermore, while moving from

place to place, since it would be deprived of its ground protection, it would fall an easy prey to the hostile airplane. An obvious

disadvantage, from the standpoint of supply and equipment, lies

in the added power plant. In short, it seem that this substitution
would surrender many advantages of the balloon, and offer

almost nothing in exchange.

Airship and airplane. If we disregard the effect of hostile air

activity, there is scarcely an observation mission previously

described which may not be executed by the airship almost as

well as by the airplane, while many of them, such as very distant

reconnaissance, may be done even better. In final analysis, if we

except all such considerations as initial cost and maintenance,

the one great tactical advantage of the airplane is its comparative invulnerability, due to its speed, small size, and maneuverability. But this one advantage is decisive, wherever the enemy

has an active air force or a strong antiaircraft armament. We may

therefore expect to see the airship used for observation purposes

only in rather exceptional circumstances: where, for instance,

the enemy is a small state, unequipped with antiaircraft means;

or when weather conditions permit the rapid escape of the airship into friendly cloud banks of great extent.
117

CHAPTER V

PURSUIT AVIATION

Introduction. In previous chapters the fundamental principles of combat were discussed and their application to individual fighting. It is the purpose of this chapter to continue the

same investigation, and to study the methods that are feasible

in applying these principles to the larger air units. Up to a certain point we stand on fairly firm ground. Individual fighting

attained to a high degree of development in the World War; and

although there will inevitably be some modification due to

changed equipment even in the individual combat, it seems

probable that no innovations will occur except in minor

details. Much the same may be said of the combat of so-called

formations, that is, of the smallest band, composed of from

three to nine airplanes, which is led and maneuvered as a

unit.

However, as we go forward in the direction of larger numbers, the foundation of historical fact becomes and more insecure. We shall see later that even some of the men who were

advancing in the path prescribed by the principle of mass,

nevertheless took these footsteps falteringly, and were frankly

doubtful of their wisdom. Such is indeed the general history of

progress. Nevertheless there was advance; and it seems a logical deduction from the facts we know, that we shall continue

to advance in the employment of mass, until at least the

largest pursuit organization now envisaged—the brigade—will

not be alone an administrative unit, but will be brought to the

battle and directed while in it, by a single commander. In this

way only may its full power be concentrated on the destruction

of the enemy.

It is apparent that any attempt to describe in detail how

this is to be accomplished for the larger units, may well take

us out of the realm of the disciplined imagination into that of

the unfettered fancy. But at least the broad general outlines of
the solution seem capable of being deduced from the facts now

at hand. Certainly the attempt to do so is well worth while. The

doctrine thus evolved may prove in future warfare, to fall far

short of perfection. It would be exceptional, were it to turn out

otherwise. But if it adheres closely to those fundamentals of

warfare which were discussed in a previous chapter, it cannot

be essentially unsound, however much it may fail of attaining

the ideal. If the history of war shows one thing with certainty,

it is that any reasonably sound plan may well result in success, if executed vigorously and whole heartedly. Only the

adoption of a plan fundamentally unsound, or, worse yet, the

failure to adopt any plan—with its inevitable consequence of

indecision and inaction—is almost certain to entail defeat.

The basic mission of pursuit aviation. With the exception of pursuit, all other branches of aviation have a dual rôle.

Their missions may be of the nature of a service, as is habitual with observation aviation; or they may consist in offensive

action against hostile elements on the surface of the earth,

which is the proper rôle of bombardment and of attack aviation. In any case, they have a certain duty to perform, which

arises from other than air considerations. In so far as the latter are concerned, their missions are mostly invariably of a

defensive character. Whenever consistent with the playing of

the first part of their roles, they studiously avoid combat. With

the pursuit aviation, on the other hand, air combat is the sole

reason for its existence. It is true that it may be called upon at

times for the execution of some other mission; but in such

cases, it ceases in fact to be pursuit aviation, and must be

regarded as temporarily converted into attack or observation

aviation. It is apparent then, that all air combat generally

involves pursuit aviation, since there must be an attacker. The

study of air warfare, in its most limited sense, is the study of

pursuit strategy and tactics.

In the days of its beginning, pursuit aviation had as its

basic mission the destruction of hostile observation aviation,

and the protection of its own. This rôle has now been greatly

widened, and today the basic mission of pursuit aviation is the

destruction of all hostile aircraft, and the protection of friendly

aircraft. The latter part of its rôle might almost be eliminated,
since the destruction of hostile pursuit aviation provides

automatically for the protection of friendly aircraft.

In a certain sense, pursuit aviation may be called an auxiliary to the other branches of aviation: for the criterion of its

value is the effect it has on the air situation; and this, in turn,

is of importance only to the extent it affects the operation of

attack, bombardment, and observation aviation. If we imagine

a situation where the enemy has no aviation, our own aviation, with the exception of pursuit, is greatly enhanced in

value, whereas our pursuit aviation would be useless as such.

Nevertheless, no mistake could be more destructive in its consequence than to underrate the value of pursuit aviation to air

operations as a whole, under any conditions of serious warfare. It is, in fact, the very backbone of the air force. Unless all

other branches of the air forces are tied closely to it, their

worth will be greatly reduced. Without a pursuit force, the

whole scheme of air operations would fall apart, against an

enemy strong in this essential part. Just in proportion as pursuit aviation grows in effectiveness, so also will the remaining

branches of aviation have their value enhanced.

Control of the air. The normal rôle of pursuit aviation is

to assist its comrades in the other branches of aviation, by

gaining and maintaining control of the air for the necessary

period over the zones of operations. It is, however, necessary

to a correct understanding of this statement that the term control of the air be explained, for it is easily susceptible of being

misunderstood. All readers are familiar with the corresponding expression of naval warfare, control of the sea, and those

who are less familiar with aircraft may easily be led astray by

relying on too close an analogy between the two.

The meaning of the word control is essentially the same in

both phrases; but the extent to which it may be attained differs in the two classes of warfare. As an example, the British

Navy had almost unquestioned control of the sea, in so far at

least as surface vessels are concerned, during the entire duration of the World War. The British merchant marine came and

went at will, for the most part, while the badly needed cargo

vessels of the German Empire were tied up uselessly either in

their own or in neutral harbors. However, in spite of this
unquestioned superiority of the British Navy, isolated units of

the German Navy, such as the Emden and the squadron of von

Spee, succeeded for a time in eluding their superior foe in the

vast spaces of the sea, and in working more or less destruction. Similar examples might be cited from every war in which

one belligerent has dominated in sea power.

If the immensity of the sea permits such evasions, how

much more likely they are to occur, where the air is the

medium to be guarded—the air which covers land and sea

alike, and does not restrict its voyagers to a single plane. Such

a result might well be expected, and such is in fact the case.

Control of the air is not an absolute but a relative condition. It

is generally restricted in scope and fleeting in duration. No

matter how overwhelming a force of pursuit aviation a belligerent may have, it cannot wholly prevent hostile air activity.

Just as, to consider another comparison, the most overwhelming superiority in artillery never in practice results in

counter-battery fire so effective that not a single hostile gun

can fire, so also superiority in aircraft never insures that the

enemy’s air activity will be reduced to zero.

Too often, in the World War, this fact was not appreciated,

and the sight of a few hostile aircraft proceeding on their way

unmolested led ground troops to conclude either that their

own air force was outnumbered and neutralized, or else that it

was neglecting its obvious duty. Of course, such a conclusion

was entirely unwarranted, and came from a widespread ignorance of the capabilities, and particularly of the limitations of

the new arm. With the more general diffusion of knowledge,

which will come with time, all arms of the national defense will

understand that even the largest air force cannot entirely prohibit the passage of hostile aircraft. Once this condition is

reached, ground troops will undertake to advance under fire

from aircraft, just as formerly they were not invariably halted

by artillery fire, meeting the new menace in much the same

way they met the old: by concealment, by deploying, by counterattack with fire, and by summoning the necessary fortitude to

withstand the unavoidable losses. Then they will judge the

friendly air force, not on the negative basis of moderate hostile

air activity, but by the number of hostile aircraft the friendly
pursuit forces destroy or neutralize, and by the damage

inflicted on the other elements of the hostile army. Then also,

they will understand that just in proportion as the air force is

aggressive and carries the war into hostile territory, to that

extent will its activity be unobserved by friendly ground

troops. With this knowledge in mind, ground troops would be

the last to insist that the friendly air force remain above their

heads in costly defensive inaction, for they would realize that

these unseen battles over the enemy’s lines determine in the

end the extent to which ground troops will suffer from hostile

air attack.

But because control of the air is temporary and limited, it

does not follow that it is unimportant. It is, in fact, the principal element of the air situation, and may be said to exist when

friendly aircraft can carry out their assigned missions with

only rare interruptions by hostile pursuit aviation, while hostile airplanes, on the other hand, generally have to fight to perform their allotted tasks.

Indecisive nature of the single battle. It was noted in a

previous chapter that single fights are rarely decisive in the

air, when compared with the results which usually flow from

land battles. But this must not be understood to minimize the

importance of each separate fight to an undue extent. It must

be remembered that each victory does so much to raise the

morale of the winner and lower that of the defeated, that on

this account alone, each successful fight paves the way for

succeeding triumphs. Moreover the actual numerical relationship will generally be changed. So much is air warfare determined by the actual physical destruction of the opponent, that

the relative losses form an accurate estimate of the outcome.

In this respect it often differs from land battles, where sometimes the losses of the victor equal those of the vanquished. In

the air there will be few Pyrrhic victories.

As an illustration of the protracted nature of air fighting,

the example of the American pursuit units attached to the

British Expeditionary Force may be cited. There were in all

216 American pilots with the British. Fighting in which some

of these pilots were involved, was of almost daily occurrence,

now one side and now the other entering combat under the
more favorable circumstances. Slowly the American fighters as

a whole began to get the upper hand, but at the end of many

sing combats, it was still impossible to say that they had definitely and decisively defeated the enemy. Nevertheless, the

comparative moral and numerical ascendancy of the Americans was eventually asserted. By the end of the war, according to the British official figures, they had accounted for 225

hostile aircraft, with a total loss to themselves of only 71. It is

instructive to note that on the last day of these operations, an

American squadron entrapped a German squadron which had

been reduced to seven pilots, and destroyed the entire unit,

without the loss to themselves of a single man. While such

complete results were due in part to good fortune, they were

primarily a consequence of superior numbers, skill, and

morale—all attributable, to some extent at least, to preceding

successful fights.

Cooperation. In a previous chapter, the principle of mass,

in its application to pursuit aviation, was briefly discussed. As

a corollary to it, stands the principle of cooperation. Its importance to the pursuit force as a whole is apparent. Each

squadron must play its part in the group team, working with

a single eye to the welfare of the whole, or it is obvious that the

full strength of the entire force can never be brought to bear.

Too much emphasis cannot be laid on this phase of the principle of cooperation.

But it is apparent also that there is a practical limit beyond

which cooperation need not extend. To attempt to go beyond

this, in pedantic compliance with the principle, usually results

in cramping initiative and in introducing unnecessary complications, which military towards defeat rather than victory. In

its exterior relationships, pursuit aviation rarely needs to

cooperate with any force other than air units and antiaircraft

troops. With the latter, its liaison must be close, for both have

essentially the same mission. But with infantry, for example,

the liaison need by only the most tenuous kind. It is quite true

that the needs of the infantry ultimately determine the missions of observation, attack, and bombardment aviation, and

that these in turn may govern the action of pursuit aviation. It

may therefore be argued that cooperation of a close kind is
essential with infantry. But such reasoning is mere sophistry.

Practical experience, backed by common sense, shows that

pursuit aviation can accomplish its own essential tasks with

little or no reference to infantry dispositions, except in the

most general manner. Its interest lies in the air.

The cooperation of pursuit aviation however must be fairly

close with the other branches of aviation: the greatest air victories come from skillful combinations of all parts of the air

force. But in this case also, it is dangerous to go to extremes.

The principles of war do not always lie side by side in complete

harmony: he who makes a fetish of the principle of security,

for example, almost certainly resigns all chance of success in

war. So it is also with other principles. Thus to divide up the

various pursuit organizations, and parcel them out among

many attack and bombardment units, in the name of cooperation, is to commit the vital error of dispersion, to negative the

principle of mass, and to violate an important phase of cooperation itself—that which should exist throughout the pursuit

force as a whole. Cooperation then, must be given its due

weight, but must not be used as a screen for the violation of

other principles. It is a means, and must be employed with the

end in view, not sought for its own sake, to the exclusion of all

else.

Close protection. Still another error which has been committed in the name of cooperation, is what is known as “close”

protection. It is, of course, one of the primary duties of pursuit

aviation to protect friendly aircraft. Yet if the principles of war

and the characteristics of pursuit aviation are not made the

basis of the method of protection, but a system found useful

in other forms of warfare is blindly adopted, the purpose of the

operation is all too apt to be defeated. This is the fundamental

error in close protection of other branches by pursuit aviation.

It was exemplified in World War most frequently in the escort

of observation airplanes by flights of pursuit aviation. An

infantry escort, for example, will usually be so conducted that

it may interpose itself between the convoy it is protecting and

any threatened danger. In the case of pursuit escorting observation aviation, almost the same method was adopted. The

escorting flight would remain just above the observation air-
plane, with a view of attacking any hostile airman who

attempted to interfere. The objections to such a procedure are

manifold. To attempt to keep two different types of airplane,

with different cruising speeds, in fairly close contact, is undesirable, although this difficulty is not of a serious nature. The

chief objection lies in the fact that pursuit aviation is a purely

offensive force; its defensive strength is negligible; to compel it

to await attack is almost to devote it to destruction. Under

these circumstances, the enemy, secure himself from attack,

has simply to wait until all the conditions are in his favor, and

fall upon the escort. With all these advantages, he will not

often fail to secure the victory. With the protectors thus disposed of, the fate of the protected is merely a question of time.

Undoubtedly, the presence of friendly pursuit just above him,

may give the observer a comfortable feeling of false security. If

he be far-sighted however, he will vastly prefer that his pursuit escort be employed in its true offensive rôle, well knowing

that in the long run, he will thus obtain far better protection.

One after another, the various belligerents of the World War

tried out the system of close protection, and one after another

abandoned it, as its true nature came to be realized.

Of course, there are occasions when close protection, or

some form of escort, is essential. The importance of many missions thoroughly justifies it. But it is best accomplished not by

tying down pursuit aviation to a hopeless task (and here it

must be recalled that pursuit aviation is assumed to be composed entirely of single-seaters), but by utilizing the peculiarly

offensive power of pursuit aviation on its more distant missions, and supplementing this for closer protection with the

defensive power of formations of two-seaters. In general,

observation aviation times its flights so as to take advantage of

the offensive sweeps which pursuit aviation makes, in the execution of other missions. Such sorties of pursuit aviation may

indeed be made for this very purpose, where the situation warrants it, but this may be regarded as exceptional.

Air barrages. In much the same category with close protection is the attempt which was made from time to time in the

World War to establish so-called air “barrages.” As the name

indicates, it was an effort to put up a defensive dam along
some line on the surface of the earth, which would positively

deny the passage of hostile aircraft. It is difficult to say

whether the idea originated from the older conception of the

cavalry screen, or whether it was adopted in the blind hope of

overcoming the apparently insurmountable difficulties which

had been encountered in the usual defensive schemes against

aircraft. But that such a plan is ill adapted to air tactics

becomes manifest on consideration of a single example.

Let us assume that an army is being concentrated in an

area approximately forty miles square. Orders are received to

prevent hostile observation of the area by establishing an air

barrage about the perimeter. If the barrage is to be truly effective merely against single hostile airplanes, it is necessary to

have a patrol of friendly pursuit airplanes approximately every

5 miles of the entire perimeter of 160 miles. Moreover, the

third dimension cannot be overlooked, so that the cordon

must be established vertically, consisting of patrols about

every 2,000 feet of altitude from the ground to the ceiling,

which may be assumed as some 24,000 feet. Furthermore, if

the barrage is to be continuously maintained throughout the

day, three reliefs of patrols are required. A simple calculation

shows that the number of airplanes needed for this operation

reaches the formidable total of 6,760, a number far exceeding

that which may be allotted a single army, even in the dreams

of the most ardent air advocate. If we imagine, however, that

such a vast number of airplanes is available, and that they are

being employed to form a barrage, the futility of the thing

becomes apparent when the probably action of the enemy is

considered. After numerous attempts by his observation airplanes to penetrate the screen—all of which, we may assume,

met with disaster—the nature of the defense becomes manifest. The appropriate action of the enemy in such a situation

is easy of deduction: he would have to concentrate a force of

pursuit aviation of only a small fraction of the size of the total

defending force, to be able to have decided local superiority,

and so to be able to break through the barrage at any time and

place he may choose. The air barrage thus fails in its purpose

against an aggressive enemy. By violating the principle of the
offensive, and adding to this the error of dispersion, it invites

disaster.

The objectives of pursuit attack. In principle, the objective of pursuit aviation is that part of the enemy’s aviation

which offers at the time the greatest menace to the friendly

forces as a whole. It will therefore generally have a specific

mission. But so fleeting are the opportunities in air combat,

that it is the usual rule to allow great initiative to the pursuit

commander, and to permit him to diverge from the original

plan whenever, in his opinion, the circumstances warrant it.

Thus on a sortie, made primarily for the purpose of destroying

hostile pursuit aviation, the pursuit commander may fail to

encounter the latter, but fall in with enemy bombardment aviation under circumstances favorable for attack. Under the

altered circumstances of the case, his decision to change his

mission, and to attack, would be thoroughly justified. On the

other hand, the mission assigned to pursuit aviation may be

of such vital importance to the plan of operations as a whole,

that no divergence from the original orders is permissible. For

example, pursuit aviation engaged in protecting surface vessels from attack by hostile bombardment airplanes must

ignore all other objectives, no matter how tempting, and concentrate its strength the bombers alone. As a rule however, the

objectives assigned a pursuit commander are stated in broad

general terms, and the specific objective of each attack is left

to his discretion.

Pursuit formations. The word formation, which in general

military usage, has a meaning different from that employed

here, has already been defined. As numbers became the rule

in air combat, there arose a need for new words, for the new

tactical units often failed to coincide with the previously existing administrative subdivisions. Accordingly a new word was

coined, and the smallest tactical grouping became known as a

formation, while two or more of the latter were called a chain

of formations. Now however, there is no longer the same need

for these words. It is obvious that, since tactical success is the

reason of existence for all combat units, they should be

administered also to that end. Accordingly the formation

should be designated as the flight, the smallest chain of formations as the squadron, and so on to include the group, the

wing, and the brigade. Should it become necessary for tactical

reasons to alter the size of the formation, it is equally desirable

to change also the composition of the flight, except perhaps in

observation aviation. To have separate subdivisions for administrative and for tactical purposes is to introduce an entirely

unnecessary complication. The word formation, in the meaning used here, having served its purpose in a period of transition, may now well be abandoned, to revert to its more general

meaning.

There are many points of similarity between the offensive

and the defensive formation, or flight. In both, the leader must

be in plain view of the remainder of the flight, so that they may

readily follow his example, or obey his signal. In both, due

attention must be paid to security measures. The arrangement

of the airplanes in the two classes of flight is therefore much

the same: it consists of an inverted “V,” with airplanes doubly

echeloned, both in plan and in height. There are however

notable differences. In the offensive formation, security is

attained not by the flanking fire of the rear guns, as in the

defensive flight, but by so arranging the airplanes in flight,

that they may maneuver to bring their front guns to bear. For

example, if the leader is attacked, the pilots in rear of him,

having superior altitude, can dive and place themselves on the

tail of the attacker. Even the rear airplanes are not wholly

unprotected by their fellows, for they too, if attacked, can dive

under the forward airplanes, and so put the latter in an

advantageous position to counter-attack. The foremost consideration in the offensive flight however, is not security, but

is the ability to bring the concentrated fire of many front guns

on the given objective. This is achieved primarily by maneuverability, which is of the highest importance in the pursuit

flight. On this account, the offensive flight is much less compact than the defensive formation, for there must be space

enough to permit maneuver.

Number of airplanes in the flight. The demands of

increased fire power and of maneuverability are conflicting; in

consequence, there is a natural difference of opinion among

airmen as to the best number of airplanes in the flight. Those
who set the higher value on fire power naturally desire to

increase the number of airplanes in the flight; those who set a

greater advantage in maneuverability prefer to reduce the

flight to the smallest number, that really gives the advantage

of the principle of the mass. It seems, on the whole, that this

one of the many tactical details, which must necessarily be left

to the future to determine: for the present, only the broader

outlines can be drawn.

There is substantial agreement among pursuit fighters that

nine airplanes arranged in the usual inverted “V” constitute a

hopelessly unwieldy flight, so that opinions favor either three,

five, or seven airplanes as the proper number. To consider the

first number, it has the advantage of a high degree of maneuverability. Furthermore it is especially suited to certain phases

of air combat. As we shall see later, the pursuit battle consists

in general of two parts, which may be called, for lack of better

names, the break-up and the exploitation. In the former, the

aim is to break up the cohesion of hostile groupings, so that

formed bodies of friendly pursuit aviation may exploit the initial success by destroying the isolated units of the enemy. In

its final application, the latter phase consists in the destruction of single airplanes. For this purpose the flight of three

seems ideally adapted. On the other hand, the loss of one airplane from the formation of three, destroys the integrity of the

flight and weakens it disproportionately. Furthermore, considerations of organization tend to favor a higher number. It was

pointed out previously that tactical and administrative units

should be the same. There will generally be a certain number

of airplanes out of commission, for one reason or another. The

logical paper strength of the flight should therefore be that

which tactical reasons show to be the desirable number in the

air, plus the number that experience shows will normally be

out of commission. A flight of a paper strength of three would

obviously be of no value when any of the airplanes are out of

commission, unless combined with others in similar case. If

organized with a paper strength of four, it envisages too low a

percentage of airplanes normally in commission. Of course

this defect may be readily overcome by utilizing temporary

flights, whenever circumstances render it necessary. But this
is an undesirable procedure from the point of view of good

team-work. It is probable therefore, on the whole, that the disadvantages of the flight of three outweigh the advantages.

However, among certain authorities, there is a distinct tendency to favor a flight of nine airplanes, which really consists

of three formations of three airplanes each, the formation

being echeloned with respect to each other in the same way as

the individual airplanes in the formation. 

Many famous air fighters, among whom may be included

von Richtofen, preferred the flight of seven. When the factor of

space is considered, in view of the probable masses of the

future, this number may well become necessary. On the whole

however, the present tendency seems to rely on the flight of

five airplanes (Figure 16) as the best compromise among the

conflicting demands. This number will be understood in future

references to the flight, unless otherwise stated.

Attack of a single airplane by a flight. In the attack of a

single hostile airplane by a flight, there are two general methods that may be employed by the latter in order to utilize to the

full its superior numbers. In both of these schemes of maneuver the same general configuration govern as in the air duel,

which was discussed previously: every effort should be made

to get on the tail of the enemy. But it is apparent that when we

come to study the action of the flight, space factors enter to

complicate the situation. It is almost impossible for five airplanes to crowd into the dead space of a two-seater, unless the

flight remains at long range. It is evident that in converging

their fire on the hostile airplane, the attackers also converge in

their courses, and if they attempt to close in to truly effective

range, there is imminent risk of collision. This has been a frequent cause of disaster in air combat: the redoubtable Boelcke, for example, met his death in collision with a friendly airplane. Of course, it is possible for the pursuit flight to remain

far enough away from the enemy to avoid this risk, and still

remain in the dead space of the airplane attacked. It can then

continue its fire with at least some hope of success, due to

superior volume. But long range fire in the air is all too often

wasted, and this method gives no assurance of ultimately
Figure 16. The Five-Plane Formation
accomplishing the mission of destroying the hostile plane. It is

usually necessary to close with the enemy.

For these reasons, the tactics of the flight usually consist

in attempting to give the death blow with only a part of the

flight, the remainder assisting their comrades in this task. Of

course, surprise is always sought, and where achieved it permits the leader alone to deliver the coup. If we assume such

an attack in a two-seater, where complete surprise is not

obtained, the two-seater may be counted upon, as a rule, to

maneuver to bring the rear guns to bear on the first attacker.

It is apparent however, that such a maneuver places two at

least of the attackers in such a position that they may readily

dive in from sectors of comparative safety. The airplanes of the

flight which are left in the zone of fire may then pull off to

avoid it, while their comrades dive in to the attack. Some such

procedure is the ordinary rule in such a fight as that

described. It is apparent that, with so limited a maneuver

space, the flight of three airplanes can accomplish almost as

much as the flight of five, in the attack of a lone enemy. However the flight of five has one important advantage: where

there is danger of hostile interference, one or more airplanes

of the flight should remain above it as a top guard, taking no

part in the fight, unless hostile reinforcements arrive, or some

emergency arises.

The attack of a single airplane by a flight was common

enough in the World War. Observation airplanes habitually

flew alone, and often pursuit followed the same custom. Occasionally, as might be expected, such lone fliers were used as

decoys, to allure hostile pursuit flights into an attack: when

the attention of the attacker was occupied in this way and his

flight perhaps partially disorganized, lurking pursuit, awaiting

just this favorable opportunity, would attack in its turn. However in future warfare, it seems likely that single airplanes will

rarely venture forth. This type of attack will therefore seldom

occur except in the exploitation of an initial success, after the

disruption of hostile formation.

Combat between two pursuit flights. In the World War,

the combat between two pursuit flights usually took a very

definite course. The aggressor, having superior altitude, would
first maneuver to get 

into the sun, and then dive to the

attack. The leader would single out an opponent, and give him

a burst of fire, then either continue his attack or else pull out

above the fight to act as top guard. The remaining pilots of the

flight would in turn single out their opponents and attack,

attempting to keep up their fire until the enemy had been

destroyed. Often the attacking airplane thus followed an

enemy down for thousands of feet. It is apparent that the

aggressor had a decided advantage in an initial attack under

such circumstances. But once this stage was passed without

decisive results, the combat all too often degenerated into a

“dog fight”, where the value of numbers was scarcely utilized

at all, and individual skill alone decided the issue of the day.

Bishop’s description of such a mêlée, has been quoted previously. Still another incident, which commonly occurred, may

serve to illustrate the nature of the fighting: in the confusion

of the mêlée, a pilot would see a friendly airplane dive by with

an enemy “on his tail”; rushing to his comrade’s rescue, he

would fasten in his turn onto the enemy’s tail, firing furiously

as they dived, only to be compelled to desist by the flashing of

tracer bullets about himself, which apprised him that he, in

turn, had an opponent on his tail. The end of a “dog fight”

almost invariably found the contestants scattered over a wide

expanse of sky: their existence as a tactical unit was lost, until

such time as they could be assembled at some rendezvous

point. 

It is apparent that, in such a combat as that described

above, there is little art to be discovered, except perhaps in the

launching of the initial attack. It would however be quite presumptuous to condemn, on that account, the action of the

many air fighters, who deliberately brought on a “dog fight” at

every available opportunity. Though art may be a very

admirable thing, it can only assist courage, and guide the

eager desire for combat; it cannot replace either of these requisite of the air fighter. On the other hand, art may be, at times

successfully dispensed with: a stout heart has pulled many a

fighting man out of difficulties, in which he found himself

through poor tactical judgment. Moreover, it is plain that,

when units as small as the flight encounter each other, there
is little play for art. However, though courage may be the one

indispensable, the greatest results in warfare are not accomplished by either art or courage acting alone, but by their

happy union. 

Sometimes, the tactics of the flight were varied by the original division of the flight into two parts. It is said that Richtofen

habitually operated in this way. With one or two of the most skillful of his followers he would remain above the combat, sending

the rest of his flight in to the attack. When the initial onset had

developed—as it so often did—into a “dog fight,” he and the other

veterans with him rarely failed to find opportunities to shoot

down some of their opponents, easily caught at a disadvantage

in the whirl of the mêlée. He was credited by the Germans with

the destruction of eighty allied aircraft, and met death himself,

not at the hands of an air adversary but at those of ground

machine gunners, whom Richtofen had ignored in the too eager

pursuit of a British airman.

In general, it seems to be the best tactical practice for a

flight to retain its essential cohesion, regardless of the temptations to throw it away in too eager attack. It should, in general, be content with the result of its initial attack, and such

further success as it may be able to attain, on being reformed

immediately after the first dive. To allow the combat to develop

into a “dog fight” is to permit the enemy to fight on equal

terms, which should obviously be allowed him only when

unavoidable. Of course, when the leader feels confident of the

individual superiority of his followers, there is more justification for his discarding the power of his flight as a whole. In his

anxiety to fight, he may feel reasonably confident of the outcome, even without the advantage of the cooperation of numbers. It will rarely prove the way to victory however, when the

flight is acting alone. Of course, when the flight is acting as

part of a larger unit—and this will be the rule of the future—

the loss of its cohesion is not so serious a thing, and may

indeed be necessitated by its mission. This will be discussed

in subsequent paragraphs.

Combat between a pursuit flight and a defensive formation. In an attack on defensive air organizations, the conditions

differ somewhat from those descried above in the combat of two
pursuit flights. The difference becomes more marked, as larger

units are considered, but will be briefly discussed here, in its

general aspect. Defensive units are so restricted in their power

of maneuver that attacking pursuit has nothing to fear from an

offensive counter-attack from them. There are therefore fewer

unknown elements in the situation, and the pursuit leader can

estimate it as a whole with a higher degree of accuracy. He

knows that the enemy will “close up,” and meet his onset with

a definite number of guns for each air space, which can be easily foreseen. He knows that, if his own unit should become disorganized in the attack, there is no danger of the defensive formations running down his stragglers, and destroying them in

detail. He knows that, at any given moment, he can break off

the combat, and withdraw without further losses. And, he further knows that cooperation in defensive organizations is limited to the short effective range of mutually supporting guns, so

that, beyond the flight, there is little additional strength in numbers. This enables him, in the attack of larger defensive units,

to select the portion of the enemy’s force he wishes to concentrate upon, secure from interference by the remainder. Thus a

pursuit force can attack a bombardment group with almost as

great impunity as though it were a flight. In general therefore,

pursuit aviation will select as its objective, the smallest unit of

the enemy which it can attack without suffering embarrassment

due to lack of maneuver space. It will press home its attack until

successful in destroying the integrity of the unit, and exploiting

this by shooting down the isolated units. If this is successfully

done, other parts in turn may then be similarly attacked.

While the above considerations are general in their application, they do not, as stated, attain to marked importance in

so small a unit as the flight. Nevertheless, there is some choice

in the target, even in the flight. The pursuit fight is not constrained merely to shooting it out on equal terms, but may

take advantage of its maneuverability to secure more favorable

positions from the point of view of gunnery. Thus, if we

assume a bombardment of five airplanes being attacked by a

pursuit fight, the latter, by concentrating on the outside

bomber could so place itself that the fire of three of the

bombers would have to be directed at ranges exceeding 100
yards, whereas the pursuit flight could close in to an average

range not exceeding 70 yards. The odds in such a contest

would favor the pursuit unit. But there is no great disparity in

power, an pursuit will find in a bombing flight of equal numbers, no mean antagonist. However if it should succeed in

destroying the integrity of the formation of bombers, the individual airplanes would fall an easy prey.

The pursuit squadron in attack. The squadron is composed of three or more flights, the former being the more common in the various air forces. Communication between the airplanes of the squadron is confined, as in the flight, to visual

signals; on this account it is necessary that all the flight leaders be able to see the squadron leader. To accomplish this, the

flights are echeloned in height. They may also be echeloned in

plan, in much the same manner as the individual airplanes in

the flight.

When acting alone, the squadron in attack is usually

divided into three parts, which are designated as the assaulting flight, the support flight and the reserve flight. The

assaulting flight attacks as described previously. Due to the

fact that supporting units are nearby, it is a far less serious

error for the assaulting flight to lose its cohesion, than would

be the case if it were acting alone. Its primary duty is to

destroy the integrity of the formation it is attacking, and this

should be accomplished even at a sacrifice of its own cohesion.

After this is accomplished, the assaulting flight attempts to reform as soon as possible, meanwhile leaving the exploitation

of the initial success to the remaining flights. The function of

the supporting flight is to take advantage of any confusion

that may be wrought by the assaulting flight, and to destroy

any hostile airplanes which may become isolated. In case the

assaulting flight fails to break up the hostile formation, the

support is used either to repeat the attack, or, in case the

enemy consists of pursuit aviation, it may be necessary for it

to protect the assaulting flight while re-forming. The reserve

ordinarily will be held out of the fight as a top guard, so long

as there is immediate danger of interference by hostile pursuit

aviation. However, these security duties are secondary in

importance, and the mere possibility of attack—which is
always present—should not prevent its use in the critical

stages of the fight to decide the outcome, nor should it interfere with the complete exploitation of an initial success.

The squadron commander normally flies at the head of the

leading (and lowest) flight, which is almost invariably the

assaulting flight. He does not however on this account, resign

the command of his squadron as a whole, and content himself

with the leadership of one flight. His usual procedure is to

accompany the assaulting flight. He does not, however, on this

account, resign the command of his quadroon as a whole, and

content himself with the leadership of one flight. His usual

procedure is to accompany the assaulting flight on the first

attack—which he leads—and then to climb above the fight,

allowing the deputy flight leader to conduct the further operations of the flight. He will then signal, in turn, to the remaining

flights to attack, joining them when he considers it advisable.

Size of assaulting units, support, and reserve. Because

the squadron acting alone is habitually employed in three

equal parts, it must not be supposed that this is a universal

rule, applicable to higher organizations. In principle, there

should be no fixed rule for the relative sizes of assaulting, supporting, and reserve units: these should be governed in every

case by the needs of the particular situation encountered. In

the case of the squadron, due to its small size, and the paucity

of communications, its conduct, when acting alone, has of

necessity to be somewhat stereotyped in nature, and to conform to a pre-arranged method. The ideal is sacrificed in the

interests of simplicity and cooperation. But in the case of

larger units, this is unnecessary, and the fixed rule should

therefore be avoided, and a more elastic system adopted.

The size of the assaulting units depends on the size and

type of the enemy force, that it intends attacking. The type—

that is, whether it be offensive or defensive aviation—exercises

a great influence on the decision. When the enemy consists of

pursuit aviation, it is necessary that the attention of all of its

elements be occupied, in order that none of them may be free

to counter-attack. It is instructive to compare this to the normal procedure in infantry attack. In the latter, pressure must

be brought to bear not alone on the part of the hostile line
selected as the decisive point, where the main blow is to be

delivered, but also on the entire line to a great enough extent

to “pin down” these forces and thus prevent their jeopardizing

the success of the principal attack. The same idea underlies

the size of the assaulting unit in combat with hostile pursuit:

it must be large enough to engage the entire force. On the

other hand, this is unnecessary when the enemy consists of

other than pursuit aviation. For reasons pointed out above,

only the units selected for a sustained attack, which it is

intended carrying through to completion, need be engaged.

Accordingly a wider range of choice in the size of the assaulting unit is permitted. The space factor now enters to a great

extent, for it is desirable that the assaulting unit be as large

as possible, consistent with having sufficient maneuver space.

To illustrate with a simple example, if the objective of attack

were a three-plane observation flight, it would be undesirable

to have more than a flight in the assaulting unit, since a larger

force would scarcely have sufficient space to maneuver.

The size of the reserve is governed by the extent of knowledge of the enemy’s strength and dispositions. In proportion

as unknown factors may enter into the situation, the reserve

must be increased. It must, in general, be large enough to

attack any hostile pursuit units which are likely to intervene

in the fight. It can usually be made fairly large at the beginning of a fight, as its mobility permits it to be thrown in almost

instantly, when needed. However, one consideration must

always be kept in mind: great success can be achieved only by

the output of one’s entire strength. To hold out a reserve

beyond the proper time for launching it in attack, merely as

“an anchor to windward,” is a half-hearted measure, which,

venturing little, is certain to be repaid in like degree. 

The duty of the support partakes somewhat of the nature of

that of the reserve in that it provides security for the units

already engaged. The support is however essentially a reinforcement for the assaulting units. While it may exploit such local

success as the assaulting units achieve, it may also repeat the

attack of the assaulting unit where the latter has failed to secure

the desired result—a rôle which would rarely fall to the reserve.
In a sense, the support may be regarded as a local reserve. It will

rarely be held out by units larger than a group.

It is by the suitable employment of supports and reserves

that the various commanders retain control of the fight and

guide it to the desired end. This is a general truth applicable

to nearly all classes of warfare. But the time and space factors

make a difference in practice, which seems in air warfare,

almost to be a principle, although in fact it is not. Thus, in

infantry combat, the main blow of an attack must usually be

prearranged, and supports and reserve planned in such a way

as to forward the general scheme. It is generally impracticable

to alter this plan, once the attack is launched, except in minor

details. The pursuit commander, on the other hand, is to a

much greater degree, an opportunist. He will rarely determine

his scheme of maneuver before ascertaining the outcome of

the assault. Such a course is generally precluded for infantry

through its comparative immobility, which leaves it little latitude for taking advantages of sudden opportunities. But this

is the very essence of air combat. The pursuit commander

watches over the fight for signs of greatest enemy demoralization, then hurls in his remaining units where there seems the

greatest chance of destroying hostile craft.

The group. An historical example. In attempting to forecast the tactics of group, wing, and brigade, operating as combat units, we must rest for authority on reason rather than on

experience. When the Armistice terminated the World War, the

evolution of air fighting had proceeded little beyond the

squadron, although the trend of it seems quite evident. In

attempting to go beyond this point, it is interesting, first of all,

to examine a series of air operations, which took place in the

latter days of the World War. The size of tactical units was

steadily, albeit slowly, increasing. Nevertheless there was no

general appreciation of the necessity of mass operations. The

same organization would make its routine sorties first by

squadrons, and then by flights; and even the aspirant for the

honors of the “ace,” hunting alone, was not yet a thing of the

past. On this account, it is all the more interesting to study

the inception of group operations, since comparisons lie so

readily to hand. By examining this subject of air fighting in its
various stages of growth, w may perhaps envisage the ultimate

to which it will attain, and throw light on the problems of the

future.

The example selected for study is taken from the “Official History of Australia in the War 1914–1919,” in which is described a

series of operations of a “circus,” composed of British and Australian pursuit squadrons. This word “circus,” was first applied

by British airmen to the German unit commanded by Richtofen,

either from its habit of moving from sector to sector of the front—

always to the point where active operations were under way—or

else to the fact that these selected German fighters habitually

painted their airplanes in highly fantastic fashion. Eventually,

the word came to be applied unofficially to all pursuit aggregations of two or more squadrons, and may be considered as signifying approximately a group.

It is noteworthy that the first circus appeared on the German side. The British soon followed. While the account does not

so state, it is certainly a fair inference that the formation of

British circuses was not done in admiration of German methods. Nor was it brought about through any general demand on

the part of individual fighting pilots. The evidence is abundantly

clear that, to these, the unavoidable suppression of individuality was rather distasteful. It was, in fact, brought about through

the sheer force of necessity, since numbers can be met successfully only by numbers. It is the operation of a natural law.

And although at some future time, there may be an attempt to

impose an unnatural restriction on growth, it can be done only

so long as the enemy consents to a like limitation. It is indeed

obvious that the side which first succeeds in handling the larger

air units will possess a marked superiority, until its opponents,

in turn, succeed in adopting the same practices. Such had been

the German move in this example, and a similar development

was the British answer.

During April, 1918, there was formed a circus composed of

an Australian squadron, No. 2, and of two British squadrons,

Nos. 43 and 80. The group at that time habitually patrolled the

region of the Somme, in search of the enemy. The usual formation that it adopted consisted of an echelonment in altitude; the two British squadrons, which were equipped with
the highly maneuverable 

Camel, previously referred to,

would fly at altitudes of 12,000 and 14,000 feet, while the Australians, who were equipped with S.E.5’s, a machine better

suited for diving, flew at 16,000 feet. For some time after the

formation of the group the Germans were not in force on that

part of the front, and control of the air by the British was

almost undisputed. On the approach of the group, all enemy

aircraft who could dived east at their highest speed and so

avoided combat. This was all the more easily accomplished as

the size of the group made it difficult for it to escape observation. There were accordingly very few air combats. This was

profoundly disappointing to the members of the circus. To No.

2 Squadron in particular it was vexatious, for a strong rivalry

existed between it and another Australian squadron, and the

pilots of No. 2 Squadron felt that flying with a circus put them

under a decided handicap. In an official report, the squadron

commander complained that while circus might “have the

desired effect of restricting the work of his (the German) air

force, it does not do very much towards the primary objective

of a scout (pursuit) squadron, that is, the destruction of all

enemy machines.” He then goes on to state that “better results

would most probably have been obtained, both as regards the

squadron personnel and as regards the number of enemy aircraft destroyed, by the use of smaller formations.” 

Of course, in many respects, the complaint of this officer—

who had an enviable record for gallantry—was well founded.

Where the enemy does not operate in force, but relies on evasion, as the Germans did temporarily during this period, his

small units can be hunted down more effectively by squadrons

or flights, than by groups or wings. This method of warfare is

the invariable refuge of the weak in all classes of combat. In

its ultimate form it becomes guerrilla warfare—the despair of

all great military forces. But it shows the inherent weakness of

its character: it can postpone the day of defeat, but cannot

hope to secure a positive victory. Only combat can accomplish

this. But when the nature of major warfare is considered, it

would appear that its commander underrated the work of the

squadron, and its parent organization. When pursuit aviation

denies the air to the enemy, and gives full freedom of action to
friendly aviation, it has accomplished its full mission, even

though it does not destroy a single hostile airplane. The latter

accomplishment is but a means.

The situation as described above, continued on this part of

the British front for more than a month, when it suddenly

changed, and the employment of the air force in larger units

more than justified itself. On the morning of June lst, signs of

markedly increased German activity became evident. Soon the

Germans began to appear in the sky in force, and there was

no mistaking their offensive attitude. Accordingly there was no

lack of air fighting, for the British adhered to their rule of diligently seeking combat. A few examples of the methods which

were employed are of tactical interest. On the morning of June

1st, while the Allied circus was flying in its usual formation, a

single daring German, apparently unaware of the presence of

the Australians in the upper flight, dived on one of the British

“Camel” squadrons. The Australians promptly seized the

opportunity, and easily destroyed the daring attacker. This, of

course, was simple enough in itself, and reflected no particular credit on the squadrons concerned. But it was a precursor

of much that was to follow. That same evening, a flight of eight

Germans was caught in almost the same fashion between the

“Camels” and the S.E.5’s above, and was badly defeated; all

but three of the flight were destroyed with a loss of only one

Australian pilot. On the next day, similar fighting occurred,

where the tactical advantage lay again with the British, and the

results were eloquent of the work of the circus. On these two

days alone, No. 2 Squadron destroyed fifteen enemy aircraft—

more than its own average fighting strength. Again on June

12th, somewhat similar fights occurred. On two occasions,

German pursuit attempted to attack the lower squadrons,

only to be overwhelmed by the S.E.5’s in the upper echelon. It

was a striking proof of the eternal truth of the principle of

mass. 

To follow the career of this Australian squadron still further offers many valuable tactical lessons. In September, the

squadron was again operating as part of a circus, the other

squadrons at this time being No. 88 (British) and No. 4 (Australian). While these units habitually operated as a group,
from time to time this practice was varied by flight or

squadron patrols. Such a patrol of five airplanes, from No. 4

Squadron, was surprised on September 5th, by a group of

three German squadrons. The flight leader signalled to avoid

action, and himself dived away. He apparently was unobserved by the Germans, and so escaped. But the remaining

pilots of the flight were shot down to a man. On the following

day, the British circus was successful in avenging this defeat.

“This time,” says the official account, “in good cohesion,” they

flew in three echelons, Bristol Fighters from No. 88 at the top,

S.E.5’s of No. 2 below them, and “Camels” from No. 4 in the

lowest tier. At 14,000 feet, seven Fokkers were sighted.

Though aware of their presence, the “Camels” flew on below

them, hoping to decoy them into an attack. The ruse again

succeeded. The Fokkers failed to see the upper squadrons,

and maneuvered to attack the expectant “Camels.” At a welltimed instant, when the attention of the Fokkers was wholly

absorbed in their own plan, the S.E.5’s dived in to the attack.

In the initial onset, one Fokker as immediately destroyed, and

another was driven down, apparently out of control. In an

endeavor to escape, the remaining Germans went into “spins.”

In doing so, they dropped past the level of the “Camels,” who

hastened to attack in their turn, and accounted for three more

of the enemy. Only two of the Germans escaped. 

Such examples as the above might be multiplied indefinitely. They show, first of all, the absolute necessity of mass

operations, unless the enemy makes similar mistakes; they

demonstrate the desirability of mass operations, even where

the enemy employs a system least harmful to his opponents.

But primarily they show the practicability of mass operations,

even where the means of coordination were limited and far

from effective. There can be little doubt that the operations of

these circuses would have been decidedly more damaging to

the enemy, had the squadron commanders been able to communicate with each other. As it was, all cooperation depended

for its real power, on the diffusion of a common doctrine. There

was no other means of effecting true subordination to one will.

Nevertheless the group operations were highly successful, and
easily suggest the means whereby the mass operations of

larger units may become feasible. 

Assumptions in regard to future operations. In order

that mass operations may take place, certain developments

beyond the stage reached in the World War, are necessary. In

the remainder of this volume, it will be assumed that these

improvements are already faits accomplis. Their nature has

been foreshadowed in previous chapters, but they will be

described in somewhat greater detail below. Without exception, these assumptions are based on actually successful

experiments, or else on accomplishments which are easily

within our present powers to attain. The objection might well

be raised at this point, that no nation of today is attempting

mass operations of pursuit aviation in their peace time training programs. The objection is admittedly true. But the explanation lies, not in the impracticable nature of such operations,

but in the fact that the general demobilization which occurred

at the end of the World War, left no country with both the will

and the money to conduct extensive tests and maneuvers

under service conditions.

The command airplane. The commanders of groups and

of higher units will habitually exercise their authority by

directing rather than by leading the units they command.

They themselves will avoid combat wherever practicable, and

will fight only when attacked. The commander will habitually

fly as the leader in a formation of five airplanes, taken from the

headquarters flight or squadron of the unit. This serves the

twofold purpose of providing a protective escort for the commander, and of enabling him to have nearby the members of

his staff. The details of the command airplane must necessarily be determined by future experiment. Preferably it should be

able to seat three men, for the commander should be able to

concentrate his attention on the tactical situation, and not be

distracted by the necessity either of piloting his machine, or of

manning the rear guns, in case of attack. The commander will

probably have to be his own radio operator: not only would a

fourth man add undesirable weight to the machine, but so

rapid is the action of air warfare, that even the time lost in

repeating messages to and from the operator cannot be
spared. The command airplane should carry no extra equipment which can possibly be dispensed with. Its fuel capacity

should be the same as that of the pursuit airplane proper. It

need not be so sturdy as the latter. In sacrificing strength, it

would have also to forego maneuverability, but this would be

no very serious loss, since its attitude is entirely defensive.

It might be expected that the enemy would make especial

efforts to attack and destroy the command plane flights, which

would be easily distinguishable from the single-seaters. As however, the former not only will have the defensive power of the formation, but also will habitually fly within supporting distance of

single-seater units, there will be no unusually grave danger that

sudden attacks will disorganize the agencies of command. 

Interplane communication. Within the squadron, communication will be by the means hitherto used: signals made

by the airplane itself and by pyrotechnics. All commanders of

squadron and higher units will be equipped with sets for sending and receiving radio messages, both by telephone and by

telegraph. In order to reduce interference to a minimum, there

will be definite ranges of kilocycles assigned to communication

between squadron and group, between group and wing, and so

on.

Normally, in the transmission of orders, the radio-telephone

will be used. This is of course open to the objection that the

enemy may also receive the message. However, this objection

will usually not be a weighty one: for the range of these sets is

quite limited, and often the space considerations will make it

altogether safe to employ this means; moreover such is the

rapidity of action, that, in many cases, it will matter little if the

enemy does hear the orders, since the execution follows so fast

on the heels of the command. But experience has indicated

that often the conditions are such that the telephone does not

function satisfactorily, while the telegraph, on the other hand,

is entirely audible. In such circumstances, the latter will, of

course, be employed. But where every second counts—as it

indubitably does in air combat—this is a slow means, and

must be supplemented by the use of some form of abbreviation. Some form of code will be necessary: this must be very

simple, and easily decoded. It must be, in fact, so easily
remembered that a few letters will transmit the general idea of

the commander, and be quickly intelligible to his subordinates.

There is, of course, always the possibility that radio transmission may be interfered with, either by the enemy’s action,

or by some natural agency. It is therefore essential that some

alternate means of communication be provided. Several methods suggest themselves. Pyrotechnic signals may be carried

along, with definite emergency meanings. Nor has the air

force, as yet, exploited the possibilities of flag signaling in the

manner which navies have found so convenient. There seems

to be no good reason why a short folding mast may not be provided for each airplane of the command formation. A simple

code is arranged. When the commander breaks out his flag

signal, the command formation is temporarily broken up, and

the liaison airplanes, which have been previously assigned, fly

to their designated units and coming close alongside each

leader, show him the code signal which tells him the part he

is to play in the coming action.

The group. The group is composed of two or more

squadrons, four being the more usual number. It is obvious

that the formation adopted in both the flight and the squadron

cannot be indefinitely continued, without resulting in a hopelessly unwieldy unit, which could change direction only with

the greatest difficulty. Accordingly the double echelonment,

both in height and in plan, with the leader at the head of the

inverted “V,” is not carried out in units larger than the

squadron. The group habitually flies with squadrons echeloned in altitude only, each squadron, in so far as plan is concerned following in trace of its predecessor. This has the

advantage of enabling the group to change direction very readily, or to assume any other formation quickly. The group will

thus have the same frontage as the squadron. Each squadron

leader flies in trace of the leader of the first squadron, and at

an altitude about 100 feet above the last airplanes of the preceding squadron. An interval of about 150 feet is preserved in

depth between these two airplanes.

The wing. The wing is composed of two or more groups,

three being the more common organization. The wing habitually flies in column of groups. In exceptional circumstances a
formation on a wider front may be adopted, but this is rarely

justified unless the exact location of the objective of attack is

known. The column, with an interval of about 300 feet

between groups, is the only formation which permits of an

easy change of directions.

The brigade. The brigade also habitually flies in column of

wings, for the same reasons as were given in the case of the

wing itself. Intervals of about 500 feet are preserved between

the wings. In this formation, the radio of the brigade commander easily reaches to the airplane of the most distant wing

commander. This formation also may be said to be a habitual

route formation, rather than an attack formation, in which, of

course, the column will generally have been broken up.

Development of the column. In general military usage, the

word “development” means the splitting up of a column into two

or more parts. In infantry combat, this is the preliminary to

deployment, which is the final step in assuming battle order. No

such importance attaches to the development in air combat as in

infantry combat, for obvious reasons. The habitual formation of

infantry combat is the line, of naval combat the column. There is

no such habitual battle formation for the larger units of pursuit

aviation, although it will more nearly resemble naval than land

warfare. Moreover, air forces do not meet with the many limitations which other combat units encounter. Thus, the development of an infantry division often depends on the road net: the

crossing of two columns would result in inextricable confusion.

This may however, be easily done in air movements by merely

assigning different altitudes: thus two wings may readily cross

each other’s horizontal paths, by the simple expedient of remaining in a previously assigned bracket of altitudes, which need

embrace only some 1,800 feet. This advantage possessed by the

airplane does much to simplify maneuvering masses. On the

other hand, the high speed of the airplane renders all complicated movements difficult if not dangerous. It is simple to calculate that units as large as the brigade can change direction or

even counter-march without destroying their cohesion. But the

detailed movements that are necessary in such a maneuver

must be left to the future to determine. So all-important is the

time element in such movements that any miscalculation may
result in dire consequences. Maneuvers which appear practicable on paper may prove too complicated for war purposes. This,

like many other details of pursuit action, can only be determined

by future training and experiment, and this of course, can never

occur until the nation possesses the number of airplanes necessary. For the present therefore, we must content ourselves with

a very general outline of the mechanism of development.

Let us assume, for example, that the brigade commander,

after an estimate of the situation, has decided to attack a hostile bombardment wing. In the orders that transmit his will to

subordinates, he divides the command into assaulting and

reserve echelons, and assigns to each its objective of attack.

Let us further assume that he decides to concentrate for the

initial attack on the last two groups of the hostile wing, leaving the first two temporarily unmolested. The attack is to be

made by the two leading pursuit wings, the third remaining in

reserve. No support is held out The assaulting wings of pursuit at once proceed by the shortest air route towards their

objectives, while the reserve wing begins to climb above the

scene of the expected flight. The development thus begins.

It is progressively continued in the same manner. Let us

follow the action of the commander of one of the assaulting

wings, whose objective is the last hostile bombardment group.

He also decides to hold out one of his groups as wing reserve,

and orders his other two groups to attack the last and next to

last bombing squadrons. The group, in like manner, keeps a

squadron in support, and due to lack of maneuver space, the

squadron assaults with only two flights, keeping the third in

support. In the final analysis therefore the attack is the simultaneous assault of flights. But in support or in reserve in each

higher organization are units which can quickly take advantage of any initial success, or meet any threatened interference

by hostile pursuit.

Attack of lighter-than-air craft. Formerly the attack of

balloons and airships was one of the functions of pursuit aviation. With the introduction of a third branch of the air force—

attack aviation—it seems that this duty should properly

devolve on it. Accordingly the subject will be discussed in the

chapter devoted to attack aviation.
148

CHAPTER VI

ATTACK AVIATION

Inaccurate terminology. It is to be regretted that the new

science of aviation has been, at times, singularly unfortunate

in its choice of words and phrases. Many misnomers occur,

and many of the terms adopted from common usage are

entirely too comprehensive to be accurately descriptive. An

obviously outstanding example is the airplane itself; its wings,

from which the machine derived its name, are not planes, but

curved surfaces; the Air Service, as it was called in the American army, is not a service at all, in the usual military meaning of that word, but is a combatant arm; etymologically, the

word aviator itself is not above suspicion. Among these

unhappy examples from the nomenclature of the air may be

listed attack aviation. The word scarcely serves to distinguish

the branch of aviation to which it is applied, since the attack

of objectives, either in the air or on the ground, is a rôle of all

branches of the air force. However, as the term has now been

in use some years, and has come to be widely understood, it

must of necessity be retained throughout this discussion.

Origin of attack aviation. The attack of ground troops was

one of the earliest uses to which the airplane was put, coming

in this respect second only to observation. But for a long time,

it was generally believed that this duty could be performed by

the various branches of aviation in addition to their primary

functions, and that no specialization was necessary. Only one

of the major combatants in the World War considered it advisable to assign a branch of his air force to this duty alone. At

the present time, the air authorities of the larger powers by no

means agree as to the merits of this specialization. We shall

find therefore, in the study of historical examples, that

“ground strafing,” as attack missions were called, was usually

performed by pursuit aviation, although bombardment and

even observation aviation were sometimes called upon to exe-
cute similar mission. It was considered practicable for these

units to carry out attacks of ground objectives, without unduly

interfering with the duties for which they were primarily

intended. The Germans however, towards the end of the war,

arrived at a different conclusion. They were influenced to this

view by two considerations: first, it was believed that the type

of airplane suited to this work differed radically from any previous designs; and second, it was thought that the tactics as

well as the technique of executing ground attacks differed so

much from other air operations that a separate organization

and separate tactical training were necessary. Accordingly, in

1918, the first attack units, which were called by the Germans

“battle flights,” appeared on the Western Front. When the

United States army was reorganized, following the termination

of the World War, it was decided to retain attack aviation as a

separate branch of the air force, and it so remains today.

Characteristics of the attack airplane. Many flyers in the

World War considered “ground strafing” the most dangerous of

all missions. While the statistics of airplane losses do not seem

to bear out this view, nevertheless from a purely physical point

of view, the antiaircraft machine gun seems to be at no disadvantage as compared with the same weapon on the airplane.

Both have essentially the same problems in gunnery to solve.

There is however, undoubtedly a great moral advantage with

the airman, which will be discussed in greater detail in a subsequent paragraph. But whatever may be the comparative

advantages and disadvantages, it is certain that ground

machine gun and rifle fire are formidable foes for the airman

to cope with. It was chiefly the effort to solve this problem

which led to the birth of attack aviation as a separate branch.

The first solution, as might have been expected, lay in the

direction of armor.

The first distinctively attack airplane to appear on the front

had the vital parts of the airplane protected by an armor belt

against the .30 calibre bullet and shell fragments. When the

American army came to design an attack airplane, shortly

after the World War, this characteristic was retained. When

however, these airplanes were subjected to service tests, the

result was decidedly disappointing. Although the machine
provided protection against .30 calibre fire, it proved to be

slow, clumsy, and quite difficult to maneuver. It was, in fact,

altogether unsatisfactory from the standpoint of airworthiness, although it was almost impossible to bring it down by

.30 calibre rifle fire. Its defects as a flying machine were sufficient in themselves to cause this type to be condemned for

service purposes, even against an enemy armed only with the

.30 calibre weapons. But the advent of the .50 calibre machine

gun and the 37 millimeter gun as antiaircraft weapons,

destroyed the one advantage this type of airplane had, for its

thin armor belt could not withstand the greater penetrating

power of the larger projectiles. It seemed then that if protection against the lighter weapon so overloaded the airplane as

to render it unsuitable for air work, it was altogether futile to

make any further efforts in this direction. In so far as aircraft

were concerned, the age-old race between armament and

armor was definitely conceded to the former. The plan for the

construction of an airplane with both a powerful armament

and an adequate armor, a veritable “flying tank,” appeared to

be completely discredited.

A large weight of opinion then swung to the other extreme.

The history of the World War gives abundant proof that a reasonable degree of security against fire from the ground can be

attained by speed, by maneuverability, and by the effect of fire

from the airplane itself, when coupled with the moral effect of

surprise and of overhead attack. If this view be adopted, to the

exclusion of all other considerations, it is apparent from a

brief comparison of their characteristics, that the attack airplane will be in effect, merely a pursuit machine. The few

minor differences, which in theory are desirable, would be

eliminated in the interests of production and maintenance.

But this view cannot be adopted in its entirety without a

dangerous disregard of the principle of security. The effectiveness of attack aviation will always be greatly influenced by the

relative aggressiveness of hostile pursuit aviation. Since

“close” protection by friendly pursuit is usually inadvisable, it

is essential that attack aviation have at its own disposal suitable means of defense against air attacks. If left at the mercy

of these, it would soon be destroyed. Of course, it will at once
be contended that attack aviation is not deprived of all means

of defense, merely because it uses a pursuit plane, since it

obviously can protect itself in the same manner as does pursuit aviation. This is quite true, but it ignores the normal attitudes of these two branches of the air force towards air objectives. As pointed out in a previous chapter, the rôle of pursuit

aviation is distinctively and almost invariably offensive in

character; its purely defensive power is negligible. Attack aviation, on the other hand, preserves a defensive rôle in air warfare. It is apparent, then, that if attack aviation is equipped

with the pursuit airplane, and expected to furnish its own protection, it is, in effect, pursuit aviation, but pursuit aviation

with two fundamental missions, which will often be conflicting.

The possibilities of evil in such a conflict, may perhaps best

be illustrated by an example. Let us assume that an attack

unit, equipped with the pursuit airplane, is sent on the important mission of destroying a threatened counter-attack by

reserves of hostile infantry. On approaching its target, the

attack unit encounters hostile pursuit aviation. What, now, is

its proper action? To carry out the original plan in its entirety,

as though no enemy were in the air, is to invite disaster, and

practically to insure the failure of the original mission. On the

other hand, to turn its attention entirely to the hostile pursuit,

is a complete abandonment of its mission: for its first action

would probably be to get rid of its bombs, so that it would not

have to meet the enemy at a disadvantage. If we may take the

custom of the World War as a proper precedent, the attack

unit probably would adopt the latter plan, lighten up its

machines for the approaching combat—and in so doing,

largely divest itself of its attack character—and turn to its pursuit work of assaulting the hostile airmen. Such a course is

both reasonable and justifiable; but one can easily imagine

hat the high commander who ordered the attack mission,

would be little pleased at its outcome. Of course, the attack

unit might seek a solution of the dilemma in compromise, part

engaging the hostile pursuit aviation, while the remainder proceeded with the original mission. But the very necessity of

such half measures shows the inherent weakness of having
two fundamental missions, two masters to serve. Of course,

the possession of a type of airplane other than the pursuit,

does not, in itself, provide a guarantee that the enemy will not

interfere with the attack unit, even to the extent of completely

neutralizing it. But at least, the attack unit has a chance of

success. War being what it is, defeat at the hands of the enemy

may excuse a failure to execute an ordered mission: few other

reasons can be accepted in extenuation.

The essential difference in the fundamental missions of pursuit and of attack aviation, brings other distinctions in its

train, besides the characteristic design of the airplane. The

tactical training of the leaders of attack aviation must include

a thorough knowledge of ground troops and their methods; the

pursuit commander, on the other hand, can perform his

essential duties with little or no training in infantry tactics. In

the air, the attack commander, provided his command be

equipped with defensive air power, has a rôle to perform which

is simple and stereotyped in purpose and in theory, however

difficult it may prove in the execution; the pursuit commander, on the other hand, never meets two situations which

are alike in all particulars and can be solved in exactly the

same way—he must be essentially an air tactician. This fact

alone is a weighty reason on the side of specialization.

From the above discussion, it appears that attack aviation

operates to the best advantage, when equipped with an airplane that has true defensive power in the form of rear guns.

This gives also the advantage of additional fire power. Once

this point has been conceded and the extra weight allowed,

some further sacrifices may be made without seriously impairing its flying qualities. The load of bombs may well be raised

from the 100 pounds, which the pursuit airplane may carry,

to 400 or even 600 pounds. The addition of a third pair of

machine guns, so located as to fire beneath the airplane,

would make it a far more effective weapon for use against

ground troops. Furthermore, it is doubtful if the question of

armor should be dismissed at this time with no further trial,

in spite of the unfortunate results of the first efforts. Of

course, it is quite beyond the bounds of the practical to

enclose engine, crew, and gasoline tanks, in armor which can
resist the normal impact of a .50 calibre armor piercing bullet. But light armor, capable of turning aside glancing blows,

for portions of the bodies of pilot and observer, may prove, like

the steel helmets of the World War, to be well worth the sacrifice of weight. It is apparent from these rough specifications

that the attack airplane will more closely approximate the

observation than the pursuit type, and indeed, in the interests

of production, it may prove desirable to combine the two in

one design. From the point of view of flying qualities, the

requirements are much the same, except that, in the case of

the attack airplane, ceiling is of negligible importance,

although the same cannot be said of its concomitant, rate of

climb.

The fundamental mission of attack aviation. Two

branches of the air force, attack aviation and bombardment

aviation, have so many characteristics in common, that much

that is said here in regard to one, is almost equally applicable

to the other. It is often difficult to draw a definite boundary line

between the functions of the two forces. The distinction

between them is usually based on the differences in the characters of their objectives: it is generally considered that attack

aviation exists for the destruction of personnel, bombardment

aviation for that of material. Though perhaps this is the most

acceptable definition, which may be compressed into one sentence, it does not express a hard and fast rule. Attack aviation

may sometimes be employed to destroy railroad tracks, to set

fire to dumps, and to strike at structures of lighter build. Bombardment aviation may be employed for the destruction of

personnel; usually however, this is done, only where some

physical protection, such as a vessel at sea, or overhead cover

on land, must be disposed of as a necessary part of the operation.

In view of the origin of attack aviation, it is of peculiar interest to ascertain authoritative German conceptions of the mission for which the new branch of aviation was designed. In his

“Own Story,” Ludendorff states this in the following words: “In

order to provide aircraft support for the infantry, special battle aeroplane flights were formed. As had hitherto been done

by individual airmen, they dived down from great heights and
flew along at a low level, attacking with machine guns and

light bombs the infantry lines, the artillery, and, as the practice extended, the enemy’s reserves and transport columns, as

well as columns of troops coming up from farther in rear. Originally intended to be an ‘auxiliary’ arm to the infantry, these

battle-flights were finally given important tactical tasks. Thus

the air force gained a new field of activity of the greatest importance.”

With some modifications, which time and experience have

shown to be desirable, this quotation may be accepted today

as a statement of the fundamental mission of attack aviation.

But some readjustment of values is necessary, for, as will subsequently be shown, the attack of infantry lines is to be

regarded as rather an exceptional practice. Moreover, many

other duties have since been added. The primary duty of

attack aviation is still determined by the demands of the

infantry, for the most dangerous foe of the latter is always the

logical objective of attack from the air. But this is no longer the

sole element in the situation. Attack aviation may now be

called upon to support combined operations of the air force by

counter-battery action against antiaircraft artillery, either in

land or in naval warfare; it is one of the principal weapons for

attacking hostile airdromes; it is the logical instrument for the

destruction of lighter-than-air craft; and its employment in

conjunction with cavalry opens new vistas of usefulness to

that arm. All of these duties will be discussed in greater detail

subsequently.

Armament of attack aviation. The bomb usually employed

by attack aviation is the fragmentation bomb, which is

designed for use against personnel, either in the open or where

the protection afforded them is very light. The bomb ordinarily is provided with a very sensitive fuse, which detonates the

bomb immediately on coming into contact with any surface,

without penetration. There are two sizes of bombs in general

use, weighing 17 and 25 pounds, respectively. Both have an

average radius of effective dispersion of about 100 yards from

the point of impact. The bomb sight employed is quite crude;

but so low is the altitude from which the bombs are dropped

that, after a little experience, airmen become very proficient,
and sights are really unnecessary. Occasionally attack aviation uses demolition bombs weighing as high as 300 pounds.

In this case, of course, the bomb must be dropped from higher

altitudes. However bombing of this character is exceptional for

attack units.

The attack airplane is normally armed with the .30 calibre

machine gun, but a few units for especial purposes are

equipped with the .50 calibre or 37 millimeter gun. It is

instructive to compare the effect on ground troops of machine

gun fire from the air, and the same fire when directed from an

emplacement on the ground, disregarding the moral factor

and considering only the physical surroundings. The methods

of gunnery employed by attack aviation contain no differences

in principle from those described in a previous chapter. As the

target on the ground is stationary, for all practical purposes at

the ranges employed, deflection on this account does not have

to be considered as it does in air combat. Difficulties due to

the motion of the airplane however, are equally great. It results

from this that fire from the air is decidedly inferior in accuracy

to fire directed from an immobile emplacement, all other

things being equal; and this disparity increases as the range

grows longer. But, of course, in practice, all other things are

never equal, and this tends somewhat to redress the balance

in favor of the airman. The target of the aircraft machine gunner is nearly always more plainly visible to the airman, than is

the case with the ground gunner. The latter too, is comparatively immobile; he can do little to remedy an unfavorable location. The airman, on the other hand, can move his piece with

great rapidity to that location which gives the most favorable

conditions for firing.

In attacking from the air, the method generally used consists in the airplane diving in on the target, usually in the

direction of its greatest dimension, during which fire is delivered with the front fixed guns. At the lowest point in the dive,

which is ordinarily well under 500 feet, one or more bombs are

dropped. The pilot then pulls up, when a slight turn of the

machine enables the observer-gunner to bring the rear flexible

guns into action. When the airplane is equipped with a third
pair of tunnel guns, these are fired during the dive and the

immediate recovery from it.

The nature of attack aviation. It must always be borne in

mind, if we are to obtain a correct perception of the nature of

attack aviation, that its primary objectives are determined by

the direct or indirect needs of ground troops. Nevertheless, it

is a serious, if not a fatal, error, to ignore the peculiar characteristics of attack aviation, and to employ it in blind conformity with the detailed operations of ground troops. Such a procedure may not result in disaster, but it will certainly fail to

utilize the full value of this arm. Nevertheless it is fairly common to find a belief that the employment of attack aviation

should be made to dove-tail in with the minor tactics of

infantry. It appears probable that such misconceptions as this

are due to the natural error of attempting to understand the

nature of attack aviation, by reasoning from analogy with

other combatant arms. To one man, for example, attack aviation is merely a special form of artillery; to another, it is neither more nor less than a machine gun organization of rather

unusual mobility. And each of these men, when faced with a

situation in which he must determine for himself the proper

employment of attack aviation, harks back to his knowledge of

these other and better known arms, and adopts the methods

which they have found advisable in similar cases. Naturally,

he often finds himself in error. It is not meant by this to state

that reasoning by analogy is necessarily faulty. It is, on the

contrary, a most valuable method. But, in using it, care must

be exercised not to be carried away by the resemblances,

which may be greatly outweighed by the differences.

To proceed with such an analogy, the outstanding characteristic of attack aviation, as compared with other arms, is its

mobility. In the small span of one hour, attack aviation can

cover a distance which requires for infantry nine days of

marching. Where the time factor is expressed for ground

troops in hours or days, the unit for airman is the minute. On

first examination, this may not seem to be a fundamental difference; strictly speaking, it is only one of degree; but, in its

tactical and strategical effect, it is not a mere difference in

degree, but one in kind. From a centrally located airdrome,
units of attack aviation may be thrown into the fight at any

point of an extensive army front, in less than an hour. This

characteristic enables the commander to correct many errors

in foresight, and stamps attack aviation as the arm, par excellence, of opportunity. This then should be the guiding spirit in

its employment. Of course, situations may sometimes arise

where the bombs and machine guns of the airman can be

most profitably employed in mere reinforcement of the fire of

artillery or of infantry weapons. Such instances are rare: to

adopt this emergency measure as a general rule, will result in

the loss of many brilliant opportunities for effective surprise

strokes, in which the full value of the air arm can be realized.

A second peculiar property of attack aviation, when compared with the other participants in the ground battle, lies in

its vantage point for observation. It is largely on this account

that too close an analogy with artillery proves fallacious and

may lead to a failure to employ the air arm to best advantage.

In discussions of modern warfare, we hear much of the difficulties of infantry-artillery liaison, and of the necessity for

intimate cooperation if the essential team-work of these two

arms is to be secured. This is entirely proper and desirable.

But when these difficulties are transferred bodily to the support of infantry by attack aviation, and conclusions are drawn

on this basis, they are likely to be wholly fanciful and to have

nothing in common with reality. The majority of failures in

infantry-artillery liaison are attributable to faulty communications. The man who lays the gun cannot as a rule see, with his

own eyes, either the friendly infantry whom he supports, or

the enemy on whom he fires. He must see through the eyes of

a forward observer; and the latter, even when he has an unobstructed field of vision, is often unable to communicate his

observations to the battery. In the case of attack aviation,

these difficulties do not exist. When its commander arrives

over the field of battle, he can usually see the dispositions of

both friend and foe, spread out beneath him like a panorama.

There is no danger, as in the case of artillery, that defective

communications may cause his fire to run too far ahead of the

infantry advance, or even fall short on the friendly forces. To

cite other examples, the attack commander needs no message
from the infantry to inform him that they are being held up by

a galling fire from hostile artillery, and would like immediate

counter-battery fire; or, that hostile reserves in overwhelming

strength are forming for counter-attack in a nearby wood. All

these things he can quickly see for himself; often indeed, he

will perceive sources of danger to the infantry before the latter

are themselves aware of it, and can proceed at once to the

assault.

Another reason which is sometimes advanced, in demonstration of the close similarity between attack aviation and

artillery, is based upon the fancied necessity for coordinating

the action of the former with the plan of artillery fire. This

idea, at times, has even been carried to the extent of insisting

that all artillery fire must cease on a given area, before it can

be attacked from the air. This, in general, is entirely unnecessary. In pursuance of its customary objectives, attack aviation

operates either above or beyond the trajectories of friendly

artillery fire. Even in the exceptional cases where it must fly

through them, the danger is not as great as appears at first

blush: for it takes a direct hit to do any damage; compared to

the danger infantry would run in such a case, the results are

the same as if the artillery projectiles were all “duds.” Of

course, exceptional situations may require attack aviation

either to reinforce artillery, or even altogether to replace it. But

even in these exceptional cases, no intimate liaison with

artillery is essential.

The danger of regarding attack aviation as being merely a

special class of artillery has been dwelt on in some detail,

because this has been at the source of much confusion of

thought. As an example, there is a widespread tendency to

parcel out attack aviation among the infantry units, down to

include the division and even the brigade. An analysis of this

error, and many others of the same general kind, usually

shows that precisely the same plan has been followed for

attack aviation as for artillery. Often the reasons for such a

plan of employment, when expressed, include the old artillery

bête noire, liaison. It is believed that enough has been said

above to demonstrate the fact that this fear is groundless. Of

course, it is not meant to contend that infantry and attack aviation can operate effectively in complete ignorance of each

other’s plans and characteristics. Such a statement would be

an obvious absurdity. It is necessary, first of all, that attack

aviation have a thorough knowledge of infantry tactics; without this, it is quite incompetent to render good service. But,

when we come to consider special situations, the only information that is really necessary for the commander to have,

beyond his general knowledge, is the time and place where the

action is to occur, and the general scheme of maneuver of the

infantry. Thus equipped, the attack commander is in a position to strike blows just as effective, as if he were assigned to

the smallest infantry unit he happens to support.

Before closing this set of comparisons, it is desirable to

point out a marked difference between the action of attack aviation and of infantry. The blows delivered by infantry may be

sustained for hours, and even days, and may be maintained at

a high pitch of intensity for considerable portions of this time.

Attack aviation, by contrast, strikes by a succession of intensive, but short lived, impulses, each of which rarely lasts for

more than half an hour. On the other hand, this limitation of

attack aviation is offset by a characteristic which has an

important influence on its employment. When a higher commander once launches an infantry unit into a fight, he practically relinquishes all further control of it, for the duration of

the action. It is therefore apparent that the influence of a

higher commander in battle is exercised almost solely by

means of his reserves, and is confined to their combat

strength. He may therefore be pardoned if he hesitate long

before throwing in an infantry reserve. It is easy to understand

his natural qualms before the irrevocable nature of the step.

But if he have a powerful reserve of attack aviation, he is

spared much of the anxiety of this decision. When he launches

it into the battle, he resigns further control of its power for

only an hour or two at most. Upon the completion of that mission, the attack unit returns to its airdrome, and in a short

time after landing—twenty minutes to an hour—may be given

another task, its organization intact and its power undiminished, except for the airplanes actually destroyed in the first

sortie.
The moral effect of attack from the air. When it is remembered that war is essentially a conflict of morale, it becomes

evident that a study of the moral effect of any weapon is certainly not secondary in practical importance to an investigation of its physical powers. Of course, moral effect is always

dependent in some degree on destructive power. But experience has shown that two weapons of equal might often produce decidedly different effects on the minds of men.

Testimony on the moral effect of attacks from the air is so

voluminous that no attempt can be made, in the limits of this

work, to embrace more than a very small part of it. However

there is a sameness about it all, amounting almost to unanimity; so that a very few examples and opinions suffice to

illustrate the whole.

The following quotations are taken from the records of the

Fourth (Australian) Squadron, mentioned in a previous chapter. They consist in effect, of brief notes made on the operations report of each pilot, explaining the results of his mission.

They were chosen at random, and the substance of them

might be repeated in hundreds of similar reports:

“Fired 600 rounds at troops and transport on road Bihucourt-Sapignies from 800 feet. Saw many fall apparently hit

and remainder scatter in all directions.”

“Fired 350 rounds at troops and transport at Achiet-leGrand from 1,000 feet. Caused troops to scatter and seek

cover.”

“Fired 100 rounds into cavalry from 900 feet on ErvillersBapaume road. Observed number of horses and men lying on

road and remainder scatter for cover.”

The above examples are particularly interesting in that they

illustrate the almost invariable reaction by ground troops to

air attack during the World War: a complete surrender to the

desire to escape. Apparently counter-attack was unthought of,

until too late for effective action. Thus, the above squadron,

during five days of the most intense activity in the spring of

1918, in the course of which hundreds of sorties similar to

those described were made, lost only one pilot killed and one

shot down and made prisoner. This fact alone proves the existence of a strong moral factor, for a column armed with rifles
and machine guns could never be attacked with such

impunity if it vigorously defended itself: from the standpoint of

purely scientific gunnery, the airplane certainly has no such

decided advantage as these results would indicate. It must be

remembered too, that these ground troops were by no means

raw recruits; they were, on the contrary, seasoned veterans of

German “storm” divisions, in the full flush of a seemingly great

victory. Of course, the Germans, in common with nearly all

other nations, had not rightly estimated the effect of air

attack. But that they had at least a partial appreciation of its

value, even as early as 1916, is shown by the reports of Sixt

von Arnim, who stresses the moral effect on the Germans of

British air ascendancy during the battles of the Somme. At the

present time, at any rate, they have ample respect for air

attacks: in the German Field Service Regulations, issued since

the World War, the following conclusion is expressed, in regard

to attack aviation: “The appearance of airplanes, flying in close

formation at low altitudes over marching, fighting, or resting

troops, produces a great moral and material effect on friend

and foe.”

The examples given above are entirely typical. In subsequent paragraphs other historical incidents will be related, all

of which bear out the view of the overwhelming moral effect of

air attacks. These examples are all, of course, taken from the

World War. They cannot, therefore, be accepted as an invariable index of future results, without complete analyzation; and

this is fraught with many difficulties. Psychology is far from

being an exact science. Nevertheless, we must make an effort

to determine, at least approximately, what portion of the moral

effect of air attacks was due to transient causes, and what to

permanent ones, if we are to obtain any conception of the

future rôle of attack aviation.

Undoubtedly some of the moral effect was due to the very

novelty of this method of attack. There is an inevitable period

of lag which intervenes between the discovery of a new means

of offense and the development of suitable methods of defense,

even when the latter is destined to become fully effective. The

World War was just such a period. In its beginning the thought

of training troops to resist air activity was scarcely enter-
tained. Even by its end, although concealment from air observation had come to be thoroughly appreciated, little or no

attention was paid to training infantry to meet attacks from

the air with its own weapons. It was therefore, entirely natural and to be expected that the infantryman, on meeting a danger, which was unforeseen and which he had never been

taught to combat, should seek safety in flight. The experienced

soldier knows that such a reaction was inevitable. But it may

be safely predicted that this condition will not last indefinitely.

Whatever the beginning of the next war may witness, its end

will assuredly see all ground troops well trained to withstand

this new form of attack. The details of this training necessarily must be left for future determination, but the general outline of a suitable tactical scheme of defense can be foreseen

with reasonable accuracy, and will be further discussed in

connection with the subject of antiaircraft tactics. When

ground troops are once trained to fight airplanes as a matter

of routine, some of the moral effect of air attacks will unquestionably disappear. But it may be confidently asserted that

much of the effect—perhaps the greater part of it—will still

remain: for the element of surprise will frequently enter into

the situation. Training, of course, does much to diminish the

frequency of surprise; its greatest value perhaps lies in this.

Training, too, enables troops to recover more quickly from the

effects of surprise. But it is doubtful if even the best of training can rob surprise of its full demoralizing effect during the

actual time of its duration. When completely surprised,

trained and untrained men show much the same reaction.

Despite every precaution, the very rapidity of the airplane will

tend to achieve surprise, more or less complete. There will

rarely be more than a few minutes between the appearance of

the airplane to ground troops, and the launching of the attack.

The airman will, of course, do all in his power to increase the

value of this natural asset, by utilizing all the accidents of terrain and of weather to conceal his approach. Moreover, the

attack is usually of such short duration, that counter measures, unless taken from the very beginning, are almost certain

to be too late. It would seem then, from the foregoing considerations, that the airman in future wars will still retain a certain advantage in the actual give and take of blows, although

his superiority in this respect will not be as great as it was in

the World War.

Attack aviation also possesses the manifold advantages of

the offensive, which have been previously discussed. Surprise,

of course, is one of the most important of these. But quite

apart from its value, there still remains the superiority conferred by the initiative. For example, a column may not be surprised, but may nevertheless be compelled to fight under

heavy disabilities. The example of the Turkish column, given

in a subsequent paragraph, will further illustrate this.

In addition to these considerations, there is more than a

suggestion in the history of the human race, that superiority

in altitude carries with it a definite psychical advantage. One

does not need to be a disciple of the “new psychology” to perceive in such common phrases as the “upper hand” and the

“under dog,” the imprint on the unconscious mind of a long

series of combats, in which superiority in altitude was both

the cause and the criterion of victory. Such racial memories

are difficult to obliterate, no matter how inconsistent they may

be with reason or proved facts. We see them working in the

tenacity with which men sometimes cling to high ground or

elevated locations, when no physical advantage is thereby

gained. There is indeed an abundance of evidence in support

of the believe that man has an inherent feeling of inadequacy

in the face of an enemy whose physical location is the higher.

The practical consequences of such a believe are manifest: any

old soldier knows, although he may never have heard of the

“inferiority complex,” that the man who enters a fight convinced of the superiority of his opponent, is already half

defeated. But in spite of the evidence in favor of the existence

of this almost instinctive feeling of inferiority, it must still be

regarded as no more than an unproved hypothesis. To what

extent it explains the moral effect of air attack, cannot be

determined at the present time.

Attack aviation and the column. From the foregoing paragraphs, it is evident that a column of troops on the march,

whether infantry, cavalry, or artillery, is the natural objective

of air attack. While of course, every special situation must be
considered as a separate thing, and handled on its own merits, it will nevertheless usually be found that assaults on

columns offer the most far reaching results to attack aviation,

with the same expenditure of effort. This is due primarily to

the importance of the time element in every operation, and to

the fact that attack aviation can count almost with certainty

on influencing this factor, even though its assaults are negligible in destructive effect.

In marches by day, the column of the future will provide an

antiaircraft guard, with the same regularity with which it puts

out an advance guard when approaching the enemy. On

account of this, it is highly probable that attacks on columns

will not result in complete demoralization—which was the rule

of the World War. On the other hand, it is certain that strong

attacks by aircraft will not be met by the troops of a column

with entire equanimity. It shows marked inexperience in war

to fancy that men will march along a road, under a hail of

bombs and bullets, with the regularity and precision of a

parade. No matter how nearly perfect their discipline, they

could scarcely be expected to attain to such an ideal, under

the usual psychical environment of a route march. Nor will

any system of defense, based on practical experience, demand

such a course. On the contrary, antiaircraft training visualizes

a totally different reaction. Under the threat or the reality of

attacks from the air, the column either halts and returns the

fire, or temporarily takes cover off the road, or else abandons

the road altogether, effecting a partial deployment and moving

across country. Whatever may be the plan it adopts, it is certain that the column cannot march at the rate which is customary when not in face of the enemy. Always, time will be

lost.

The fact that the time is of the essence of the matter is

strategical, and even in tactical combinations, is sometimes

overlooked. Few historians have concerned themselves with

speculating as to what might have been; it is too often

regarded as an example of futility, scarcely worthy of the

attention of the serious student. Nevertheless, if we examine

the important battles of the world’s history, we find that in a

remarkably large proportion of them the decision of the day
would almost certainly have been reversed if the march of this

column had been accelerated, or the march of that one

retarded.

It is in this connection that the experience of the World War

can so easily lead us astray. Stabilized warfare has many

characteristics peculiar to itself. Among them is the ability to

regulate the movements of troops with a high degree of exactitude. Everything can be foreseen, and all necessary marches

conducted at night. The presence of a strong defensive zone

gives assurance that no sudden thrust of the enemy can disconcert the movement, except through the medium of the air;

and darkness reduces this to its lowest effectiveness.

But all this prevision, extending to the minutiae, is utterly

impracticable once open warfare becomes the order of the day.

Even in the World War (which never was completely divorced

from stabilization on the Western Front), as soon as the elaborate trench systems of defensive zones were left behind, the

time factor could no longer be foreseen, and bent to the commander’s desire. Just in proportion as mobility ruled, schedules of movements could not be pre-arranged, and marches in

daylight became necessary. If we assume that warfare of the

future will be characterized by a far higher order of mobility

than the protracted siege of France in 1914–1918, it is a logical corollary that time and space factors will enter into every

situation in decisive fashion. The delay of hostile columns will

often mark the difference between victory and defeat; and

such delaying actions are the peculiar rôle of attack aviation.

Attack of a column. An historical example. It is not however, in delaying action alone that attack aviation may exert its

power. Whenever a situation demands movements of troops in

daylight, attack aviation may enter as the decisive force. A

delay to advancing troops may turn aside defeat; a delay to

retreating troops may easily change an orderly retreat into a

rout. A weakened morale seems peculiarly unable to withstand attacks from the air.

A striking example of the value of air power, and particularly

of the effectiveness of attack aviation, is furnished by the final

phases of Allenby’s brilliant campaign in Palestine. On September 19, 1918, the British armies began the offensive which
was destined to end in the annihilation of three Turkish

armies, and the elimination of the Turk from further consideration as a serious factor in the World War. Allenby’s scheme

of maneuver was a penetration of the Turkish right, which

rested on the coast, and an exploitation of the initial success

by means of his numerous cavalry, which was to be poured

through the breach. The plan succeeded beyond all reasonable

expectation. But a critical analysis of the battle shows beyond

all doubt that the nearly perfect consummation of his hopes

was rendered possible only through many brilliant feats of air

leadership.

In the initial attack, the main blow fell with crushing effect

on the Turkish Eighth Army. Within a few hours, two British

cavalry divisions were advancing up the coast, intent on the

encircling maneuver which was to cut off the Turkish retreat.

An unusual situation now developed: for while the Turkish

right was crumbling under the weight of the British attack, the

Turkish left and left center lay inert, in complete ignorance for

two whole days of the fate of their comrades. The fact that

such a condition could exist is directly attributable to the

effectiveness of the British airmen: British observation

squadrons gave the high command ample information of every

Turkish move; British bombers completely destroyed the main

telephone centrals at the commencement of the action, and

paralyzed the Turkish communications; but, more important

than even the latter operations, was the action of British pursuit aviation: it established a supremacy so complete that not

a single hostile reconnaissance was successfully carried out.

The Turkish high command was effectively blinded.

It now remained for attack aviation to complete the air operations, so brilliantly begun. By September 21st, the Turkish

Seventh Army was apprised of the danger in which it lay, and

had begun its retreat. As British cavalry had closed all routes

to the northwest, the Turkish retreat began towards Beisan, in

a general northeasterly direction from the original position of

the Turkish Seventh Army. There was one principal road,

running from the original front towards the northeast. Dawn

of the 21st of September disclosed this road filled with Turkish columns, first with transport, and then with cavalry and
infantry, in full but orderly retreat. The critical part of the road

lies between Balata and the Jordan river, where the route is

winding, with mountains on one side and a sheer precipice on

the other. This stretch of road was selected as the objective of

air attacks.

They began shortly after sunrise, and continued throughout

the day. The effect was indescribable. Men on motor vehicles

deserted them in a mad scramble for safety. Frightened animals dashed in every direction, many of them over the

precipice. All semblance of control vanished. It was a veritable

sauve qui peut. The day following, the attack continued. One

column of Turks at length displayed a white flag, and countermarched, desirous only of surrendering. The Turkish Seventh Army ceased to exist. Scattered bands here and there

escaped, only to be picked up by British cavalry or Arab tribesmen. When British cavalry passed along this melancholy road,

two days later, they counted more than a thousand abandoned

vehicles, among them eighty-seven guns. The results of these

air operations appear all the more remarkable when the size of

the British air force is considered. There were only two pursuit

squadrons, and one bombing squadron. A fourth squadron,

equipped with Bristol two-seater fighters, executed distant

reconnaissance missions, and conducted the greater part of

the attack missions also. A mere handful of men accomplished

this result, a thing truly remarkable, when the disproportion

between cause and effect is appreciated.

Methods of attack of a column. In the attack of a column,

the airman endeavors, first of all, to secure surprise. This

would appear to be difficult, in as much as the sound of the

motor can usually be heard from a great distance. But troops

will rarely be able to distinguish friend from foe by the characteristic sounds of a motor, and will never be able to open

effective fire until the airplane becomes visible. On this

account, troops in a defile, with obstacles to view on either

side, are almost at the mercy of attack aviation. Mountain

passes and bridges will therefore often be chosen as the objectives of attack. 

Usually in the attack of a column, better moral effect is

secured by attacking from rear to front. This will be the nor-
mal procedure against infantry and cavalry. But where

wheeled transport predominates, it is desirable to reverse this

procedure, in the hope of blocking the roads by hits near the

head of the column. If the transport be animal drawn, it is particularly easy to produce panic and confusion.

At night, the effectiveness of attack aviation is much diminished, although it is by no means destroyed. It may therefore

be accepted as a rule, that columns will invariably move by

night, when within range of hostile aircraft, unless the exigencies of the tactical situation absolutely demand daylight movements.

Other targets of attack aviation. Next in importance to

marching columns, as a suitable target for attack aviation,

come the assembly areas of troops. This may be a bivouac

area, or an area in which the troops are assembled prior to

deployment on the line of battle. The massing of troops should

always be vigorously attacked by the air force. On the other

hand, troops deployed in thin lines form a poor target for

attack aviation; and when a position has been well organized,

and troops are protected by trenches, firing on them is rarely

effective, even though the more nearly vertical fire of the airplane has an advantage over the flat trajectory fire of the

greater portion of the weapons used by ground troops.

Similarly, artillery, when in the well protected emplacements of stabilized warfare, is not highly vulnerable to attacks

from the air. But in mobile situations, artillery will rarely find

time for the construction of suitable protection, and will

accordingly be open to the assaults of attack aviation. It is true

that the light armament of the latter does not enable it to

inflict any serious damage on artillery material. But, in practice, batteries are rarely silenced by the actual destruction of

the pieces: it is the personnel which is neutralized. When

artillery is animal drawn, every effort will be made by attack

aviation to locate the horse lines, and destroy or stampede the

animals.

Against hostile cavalry, attack will be directed as a rule

against mounted men and led horses. Dismounted cavalry

presents a poor target for attack aviation. But mounted men

are far more vulnerable, both because they experience added
difficulty in returning the fire, and because of the comparative

ease with which horses may be stampeded. On this account

also, led horses may be successfully attacked: it may well

result in immobilizing the cavalry unit, and so depriving it of

one of its most valuable characteristics.

Tanks cannot be successfully attacked with the standard

armament of light fragmentation bombs and .30 calibre

machine guns. Special airplanes, equipped with .50 calibre or

37 millimeter guns, and loaded with the 100 pound demolition

bombs, must be used for this purpose. Much the same may be

said of the machine gun nest, which proved the bane of

advancing infantry in the World War. Primarily the attack of

hostile ground machine guns is an infantry function: in its

howitzer and 37 millimeter gun, it possesses weapons especially adapted to this work. Experience however, has shown

that the greatest difficulty encountered by infantry arose from

their inability to locate the hostile machine guns. These were

always concealed with all the art at the enemy’s command; but

since first consideration was given to protecting them from the

view of the infantry, it often resulted that they were easily

detected by aircraft. Work of this kind is not that for which

attack aviation is best suited; but in exceptional cases it may

turn aside from its usual duties to render aid to the front

waves of infantry.

Railroads are peculiarly easy targets to attack. The airplane

approaches from the rear of the train, and endeavours to drop

a bomb on the track just ahead of the locomotive, in order to

derail it. A quick turn then enables the airplane to sweep the

cars with fire. As equipped at the present time, the train has

practically no means of defense, and accordingly all railway

movement by daylight within the zone of activity of attack aviation, is now prohibited. But such a condition will obviously

not continue. In the future, all trains which have to move in

the combat zone will be armored, at least to the extent of

splinter proofs, and provided on top with numerous antiaircraft machine guns.

The destruction of lighter-than-air craft is essentially the

work of attack aviation. In the World War this duty, like many

others which are normally attack functions, was executed by
pursuit aviation. To consider first the attack of balloons, the

armament of the balloon company has been described before,

and the danger which the airplane ran in such assaults was

mentioned. The aim of the pilot was to set fire to the hydrogen

with which the balloon was inflated. For this purpose incendiary bullets were employed. Occasionally also the attacker fired

on the balloon observer as he descended with his parachute.

The protecting antiaircraft fire usually took the form of a violent barrage, through which the airplane had to pass in diving

to the attack, and again as it tried to escape. It may be anticipated that in future wars helium will largely supplant hydrogen as the lifting agency of all lighter-than-air craft in the

combat zone. This will render an attack very much more difficult, as helium is inert and non-inflammable. It is, of course,

possible to bring down the balloon, if enough machine gun

bullets pierce the envelope. But this may require the airplane

to make repeated attacks, for a large number of bullet holes

would be necessary, and it is difficult for more than one airplane to attack at a time. The superior armament with which

the single airplane has to contend makes it probable that balloon “strafing,” practiced in the World War, is unlikely to occur

in the future. Two methods promise results: the attacking airplane must be supported by others, which neutralize the antiaircraft defense; and a more general use of bombs must take

place. Several examples of the destruction of balloons by

bombs occurred in the World War.

To consider now the attack of airships, much the same

remarks can be made in regard to the substitution of helium

for hydrogen. What the armament of the airship of the future

will be, cannot be definitely foretold. But it is safe to assume,

that if the airship ever takes the risk of combat, it will be

armed with machine guns, so distributed that there will be little or no dead space. The airship however, in addition to the

feature of its gas bags, has much the same vulnerable parts as

the airplane, namely its crew, gasoline tanks, and engines. It

may, therefore, be effectively attacked either by dropping

bombs with sensitive fuses on the envelope, or by machine

gun fire, in much the same manner as in the attack of an airplane. The airship has an advantage, in that it can afford the
extra weight involved in protecting the crew and gasoline

tanks, more easily than the airplane. On the other hand, the

airship is so slow and unmaneuverable, comparatively, that

the rôle of attacking it may be undertaken by almost any type

of airplane. In view however, of the superior armament and

protection of the attack airplane, it seems better suited to the

part than does the pursuit airplane. Even if the airship be provided with pursuit airplanes, which are hooked on to the ship,

and can take off readily from these attachments, the number

which can be carried in this way is too small to insure protection against determined assaults by attack aviation. Unless

developments occur of so radical a nature that they cannot be

foreseen at this time, the vulnerability and slow speed of the

airship make it unlikely that it can ever be employed where it

may encounter hostile airplanes. Its missions of a tactical

nature will be confined to exceptional circumstances.

Hostile sea craft of all kinds are more appropriate targets for

bombardment than for attack aviation, whose lighter bombs

are ineffective against any but unarmored vessels. Against aircraft carriers however, attack aviation may operate effectively,

for even the light bombs may damage the decks of the carrier

enough to render them unsuitable for the use of airplanes.

Not only is attack aviation called upon to support ground

troops, but it also assists the air force in combined operations.

In such cases its rôle usually consists in attacking the antiaircraft defenses, with bomb and bullet. Gun batteries are

practically helpless against such attacks, and only the lighter

armament need be feared. At times also, a number of attack

airplanes, fitted with the special smoke laying apparatus, will

put down a heavy screen to windward of the antiaircraft

defenses, and so tend to blind them. Experience has indicated

that a distinct advantage lies with the airplane in this respect,

for the smoke screen, if properly made of limited extent, hides

the sky from the ground gunners, without seriously interfering with the marksmanship of the airmen.

Attack aviation as a reserve. From the considerations

which were discussed in the previous paragraphs, it seems

clear that attack aviation is peculiarly adapted to form a

mobile reserve, rather than to render immediate and close
support to the leading waves of infantry. It is essentially an

organ of the higher command. The function of any reserve is

to permit the commander to exercise influence on the combat,

in order to turn it in the desired direction. It is held out for the

purpose of meeting unforeseen contingencies, or of exploiting

unexpected opportunities. Evidently, when its rôle is considered, the reserve is of value just in proportion as it has mobility, since from the very nature of things, an immobile force

must be stationed ahead of time, in the place it will be needed.

If the commander’s prediction as to the course of events

should prove to be incorrect (and who can see into the future

with any degree of accuracy?), an immobile reserve will be

altogether useless. The reserve, in short, is a force of opportunity; this fact stamps attack aviation as peculiarly suitable in

this rôle.

Another reason for its employment under the higher headquarters, lies in the fact that the usual targets of attack aviation are not found in that part of the combat zone for which

the smaller units are responsible, but farther in rear of this

area, where decisions for counter measures come within the

sphere of responsibility of higher commanders. The very

radius of action of attack aviation suggests the desirability of

this step. From a centrally located airdrome, an attack airplane can move to any point on a line hundreds of miles in

extent: such extensive fronts belong to commanders-in-chief

of theatres of operations, rather than to divisions, corps, or

even armies. The reasons which have most often been

advanced against retaining attack aviation under the higher

echelons of command, have already been shown to be groundless.

It should not, however, be concluded from the above discussion, that attack aviation must be kept in leash for hours

and even days at a time, as for example, infantry divisions

would be held by general headquarters. As we go up in the

hierarchy of command from the division, it is generally possible to foretell with a reasonable degree of certainty that several

hours will elapse, before any action by the higher headquarters becomes necessary. Thus it may be figuratively said that

the division must think about today, the corps about tomorrow, and the army about day after tomorrow. It will thus often

be possible for the higher command, when it can be foreseen

that no crisis will probably arise in the near future, to send its

attack aviation out on missions in support of some subordinate unit, or even permit the attack commander to take out

his unit “on his own,” in search of targets of opportunity. In

the former case however, it should be the rule that the attack

organizations are not attached, but are merely in support, and

that they revert to the control of the higher headquarters after

each sortie.

Attack aviation as a reserve. An historical example. On

March 21, 1918, the Germans began their final campaign on

the Western Front. Its objective was, in the first “drive,” to separate the British and French armies, and to hurl the former

back on the Channel ports. Ludendorff, who directed this last

desperate effort, believed that, once the two allies were separated, they could easily be defeated in detail. The immediate

geographical objective was Amiens, the possession of which by

the Germans would have been an almost insurmountable

obstacle to British and French cooperation.

The main blow of the German attack fell on the British Fifth

Army. It made a gallant defense—of that there can be no

doubt. But it was at length broken and scattered, and, as an

army, ceased to exist. On the right and left of the Fifth Army,

the French and the British Fourth Army began to be hard

pressed. For days, the integrity of the Allied front, and perhaps

the outcome of the World War, hung in the balance. All

depended on whether or not these units could hold, until help

arrived. The allied reserves were unfortunately distant; the

German reserves were near. The former were, of course, put in

motion everywhere, to fill the gap left by the Fifth Army, and

to buttress up the stubbornly fighting forces on either side of

the gap. But the movement of an infantry division over a distance of many miles cannot be accomplished in a few hours; it

is a matter of days. Cavalry too, requires time to come into

action; and the cavalry strength had been allowed to dwindle

to numbers which could no longer be decisive. Meanwhile

every road in rear of the advancing German lines was filled

with transport and with long columns of troops, pressing for-
ward insistently to exploit the initial success, and to widen the

breach which had been driven between the British and the

French. It was a critical time in Allied affairs: not since 1914

had so desperate a situation faced the powers of the Entente.

The decision, it could easily be seen, hinged on the time factor, and time favored the Germans.

In this emergency, the air force was resorted to: whether in

full appreciation of its powers, or merely in desperation, no

one can say. Practically all the available air force of the Allied

powers was diverted to the work of attack aviation. In the

north, the British airmen were ordered to count no cost in

men or in machines, but to fling themselves at the German

columns in rear of the leading waves, attacking them again

and again, to the limit of the physical endurance of the pilots

and gunners. In the south, the French airmen received essentially the same instructions. A scene of unprecedented air

activity followed. No wonder the Germans were unprepared for

the massed air attacks that ensued. Some conception of the

effect of these attacks may be obtained from impressions of

those who saw them. An Allied pilot, in a letter from the front,

quoted by Middleton, gives a vivid picture of the demoralization produced in two German divisions by one of these concentrated air attacks, which he describes, in characteristic

fashion, as “a pretty bit of work.” “Fully 25,000 Germans,” he

goes on to say, “were advancing below—under our very eyes,

from 10,000 feet above—when from the direction of Chauny

there swung round seven French fighting squadrons, 105

machines, glinting in the sun. They maneuvered beautifully. .

. . Down swooped the Frenchmen with a whiz. They spread

fanwise. A might crescent of 100 pound bombs fell, then

another, then small stuff. Hundreds upon hundreds were

killed. I saw 5,000 men flat on their faces at once trying to

escape.”

The attack described above was, of course, only a small part

of what was occurring along the entire front of the German

assault, and back in his rear areas to include the main supply

establishments. By day and by night, the Allied airmen kept

smashing away at everything German that moved within

range. That these efforts were attended with success is
attested by Ludendorff himself, who states, in regard to his

forces in this operation, that “all troops, especially mounted

troops, had suffered heavily from bombing by hostile airmen.”

In a previous paragraph, the records of an Australian

squadron were quoted. These operations were, of course, petty

enough incidents, in themselves; in the vast drama that was

being enacted at the time. But if we remember that these

examples constituted only a small part of the work of one

squadron in one day, and multiply this by the number of

squadrons engaged on similar missions, and by the number of

days on which they flew, the sum total of destruction, and

above all, of delay, mounts up to a very important whole. The

German attack, although it overwhelmed the Fifth Army, nevertheless failed in its objective: Ludendorff frankly admits

that, strategically, the Germans had not achieved what they

had hoped for.

Many things contributed to the failure. Where many factors,

most of which are not susceptible of measurement, enter into

a situation, it is absurd to state that any one of them alone

caused the defeat. But the Allies were fighting for time. Every

hour’s delay of the German advance conduced towards its ultimate cessation. The allied airmen may therefore be pardoned

if they believe that it was primarily their efforts, which gave to

the allied infantry its needed breathing spell, and enabled it at

last to stem the German tide.

Attack aviation and cavalry. In a previous chapter, it was

pointed out that the advent of aircraft had unquestionably

resulted in lessening the importance of cavalry as an agent of

reconnaissance. But in compensation, the airplane has really

increased the possibilities of cavalry as a combat force. The

important characteristic of cavalry, as compared with other

ground troops, is its mobility. It is apparent on the face of it,

that the effectiveness of cavalry is greatly enhanced, when it

can be informed of the situation with certainty and regularity;

there will then be offered to it many times the number of

opportunities for sudden and effective strokes which it would

have if uninformed. This service the airplane can render.

This characteristic of mobility, is, of course, possessed by

the airplane in the highest degree. So, it might well be
thought, on superficial examination, that the airplane will

finally displace cavalry altogether. But cavalry has, in a certain

degree, those qualities, the lack of which constitutes the

greatest defect of the air force as an independent combat

agency. Cavalry, as compared with aircraft, can exert a more

sustained force. It can hold, as well as take.

It appears also, that the airplane can give to cavalry a supporting fire power, which it lacks at present. It is true that cavalry divisions are usually accompanied by horse artillery. But

the number of guns is always small, and the high mobility of

cavalry renders the necessary liaison extremely difficult. We

have seen previously how great a source of trouble this

becomes with the infantry. Obviously, this will not be lessened

with cavalry. It suggests at once the great results that might

be attained by cavalry and attack aviation, operating in conjunction. Of course, there are no historical precedents to guide

us, and the practicability of such combined operations must

be left to the future to decide. But such a possibility is at least

worthy of the most serious consideration.

The air situation. In general, attack aviation works most

effectively, in so far as mere percentage of hits is concerned,

when its fire is conducted by single airplanes. As the attack

unit increases in size, the initiative and accuracy of the individual airman tends to diminish. But other elements of the

situation must be taken into account, and these, in general,

favor the use of larger numbers. The principle of mass has

already been discussed, and its undoubted application to the

tactics of pursuit aviation demonstrated. It is perhaps, not of

equal importance in the case of attack aviation, but nevertheless is worthy of profound consideration. First of all, a large

number of airplanes can, in general, attack ground objectives

with greater safety than a small number; for the larger force

can bring all the agencies of antiaircraft under fire, and so

effect a more nearly complete neutralization. Another reason—

and probably a more important one—is the moral effect of

numbers. We have no great amount of experience to guide us

in this matter, for in the World War, there were never the large

units which are visualized for the future. Nevertheless we cannot doubt the disproportionate increase in moral effect that
will come from an overwhelming, devastating blow, which only

mass action can give. In general therefore, the principle of

mass will govern the action of attack aviation also.

In general too, the air situation will require the use of formations, at least. At the low altitudes at which attack aviation

operates, it is more difficult for hostile pursuit aviation to

maneuver, due to the restricted space. But this by no means

provides immunity from air attack. For example, in the World

War, the activity of German “battle flights” finally caused the

American First Army to assign the First Pursuit Group to the

sole duty of combating these attack units. In spite of the difficulties, the number of enemy aircraft destroyed by this organization over a given period, did not diminish as a consequence

of this change of mission.

The effectiveness of attack aviation, like that of all aircraft,

depends in part on the relative combat strength of the two

opposing pursuit forces. Beyond a certain point, numbers of

defensive airplanes do not increase security from air attack.

Nevertheless, the air situation will often require all attack airplanes to operate together so that friendly pursuit aviation can

support all of its sorties in full strength.
178

CHAPTER VII

BOMBARDMENT AVIATION

Progress since the World War. In the development of its

tactical power, bombardment aviation has clearly outstripped

its fellow members of the air force since the World War. The

reasons for this progress are easy to understand when tactical

power is analyzed into its elements. It is composed of three

essential factors: there must be proper strategical dispositions; the weapons that are employed must be of adequate

destructive ability; and tactical methods must be sound and in

accordance with the principles of war. Unfortunately, progress

in the development of tactical methods is necessarily slow in

times of peace. It really demands the impetus of war itself, or

at least extensive peace time experiments, which are forbidden

by reasons of economy. On this account, the progress of pursuit tactics was halted at the squadron stage by the Armistice;

even in the case of attack aviation, although its rôle in air combat is somewhat stabilized, it had scarcely begun its career as

a factor in the infantry battle, when peace put an end to further tactical development.

But with bombardment aviation the cessation of hostilities

did not produce such prejudicial results, for the reason that

tactical methods had reached a fairly high stage of development by the end of the war. Of course, it is not meant by this

that bombardment tactics had arrived at perfection, and that

no further improvement is possible. Such an idea is manifestly

erroneous. But in so far as future development can be foretold,

it appears that bombardment tactics are susceptible of no

such radical changes as are the methods of attack and of pursuit aviation. It seems, therefore, almost a paradox to speak of

the progress of bombardment aviation since the World War,

until we reflect that its development has been largely governed

by the other two elements of tactical power, the strategical and

technical factors. We may, for the present, eliminate all strate-
gical considerations, since they obviously apply to all

branches of the air fore equally.

There remains technical, or mechanical development.

While this undoubtedly moves at an accelerated pace in war,

nevertheless it proceeds on its even advance in peace also. In

so far as destructive power is concerned, the weapons of both

attack and pursuit aviation were nearly adequate to all their

needs, even in the World War. But bombardment aviation was

by no means in like case. On the contrary, when the physical

power of the modern bomber is compared with its prototype of

the World War, it is evident that remarkable progress has been

achieved. The bomber now stands forth as the supreme air

arm of destruction, with vastly enhanced power. When nations

of today look with apprehension on the air policy of a neighbor, it is the bomber they dread. It is this heavy artillery of the

air, which drives home to combatants on the ground the

importance of air power. When Marshal Foch foresaw the possibility of terminating a war by air attacks on civilian populations alone, it was undoubtedly the bomber he had in mind. 

The development of the bomb. In the first days of bombing, early in the World War, the so-called bombs were

extremely crude affairs. They consisted, for the most part of 75

millimeter shells, which had been condemned as unsuitable

for artillery use, and converted into bombs by adding fins to

keep them straight in flight. At times, even the fins were omitted. These projectiles were, as may easily be imagined, thoroughly unsatisfactory. Little was known of the actual trajectory of the bomb inflight. Bomb sights moreover, were

primitive, and entirely lacking in accuracy. Consequently, air

bombing became in practice a hit-or-miss affair, with an

excessive percentage of misses. Indeed the early bomber did

little more than heave his cargo over the side, and hope for the

best. He could count on hitting a city, if it were a large one.

Moreover the converted shells not only had poor “flying” qualities, with a corresponding lack of uniformity in their trajectories, but they were also uneconomical in the size of the bursting charge. A shell for artillery use must have thick steel walls,

in order to withstand the high pressures necessary to produce

in the gun the initial velocity, which gives the shell its range.
As a result of this requirement, the amount of explosive contained in the shell itself forms only a small proportion by

weight, of the filled shell. With the bomb, on the other hand no

such pressures have to be contended with, and no such thickness of wall is required: accordingly, it contains, as a rule, the

same weight of explosive, as of container. This is many times

the proportionate amount of explosive contained by any shell.

When we contrast this beginning with the bomb of today,

the amount of progress is apparent. In size alone, there has

been a tremendous advance. From the 15-pound projectile of

the early days, with its 11

⁄4 pounds of bursting charge, we have

progressed to the 4,000-pound bomb, with its explosive

charge of approximately a ton; and this huge bomb by no

means sets a natural limit in size. Along with increased size

has gone increased accuracy. This is due, in great part, to the

development of the bomb sight, which will be discussed later.

But much improvement has been wrought in the bomb itself.

An estimate of the probable line of flight of the bomb is no

longer a mere guess. Bombs have been studied and experimented with, until their trajectories are now uniform, and

accurately predictable. The general tendency has been to

design larger and larger bombs, and since a greater amount of

knowledge has been available in each successive effort, it is

now the general rule that the larger bombs are also the more

accurate “flyers.” In consequence of these many improvements, the bombs developed since the World War, are much

more effective than their predecessors.

Demolition bombs. The missile more frequently employed

by bombardment aviation is the demolition bomb. It consists

of a body of steel, to the tail of which are attached fins, generally four in number. Nearly all demolition bombs contain

about 50 per cent by weight of high explosive, consisting either

of T.N.T., or of a mixture of T.N.T. and Amatol. The effect produced by the demolition bomb in war, cannot, of course be

measured with accuracy, for the moral factors enter into it.

And even aside from the moral effect, there is an actual physiological effect produced on personnel by a blast of high explosive. In the World War, men were known to pass through barrages of high explosive shell untouched by fragments, but so
shaken by the effects of concussion as to be unable temporarily to make accurate use of their physical powers. It must be

recalled too, in this connection, that the amount of high explosive in a shell is small as compared with that in the aircraft

bomb. It is possible however, to obtain some conception of the

effect of the demolition bomb, by the time-honored criterion of

the size of the crater it will make in the earth. While this standard leaves much to be desired, it furnishes at least some

basis of comparison as to the destructive powers of two different bombs. The following table gives the effect of the more

commonly used bombs:

Weight of Bomb Diameter of Crater Depth of Crater Diameter of Danger

in Pounds in Feet in Feet Space to Personnel

in Feet

1,100 12 6 200

300 20 6 300

600 25 7 400

1,100 30 7 600

2,000 40 14 1,200

4,000 65 16 2,400

A consideration of importance in naval warfare or in coast

defense, is the mining effect of the demolition bomb on sea

craft of various types. None of the bombs, smaller than the

600-pound size, has any appreciable effect on armored vessels, when dropped in the water alongside. The latter bomb is

effective however to a distance underwater of 15 feet. The mining effect increases, of course, with the size of the bomb, and

reaches to a distance of 75 feet with the 4,000-pound bomb.

On unarmored vessels, the effect is felt at a much greater distance. Even the 100-pound bomb has an appreciable effect at

a distance of 25 feet, with the 4,000-pound bomb is effective

up to 200 feet.

The armor piercing bomb. Among aircraft missiles is an

armor piercing bomb, which is designed to penetrate the protective deck of the vessel, and to explode below decks through

the action of a properly timed fuse. When compared with the
demolition bomb, the armor piercing bomb has the great

advantage that its explosive effect is felt in the very vitals of

the vessel. The demolition bomb, when a direct hit is secured,

creates havoc with the upper works of the ship, but the explosive effect occurs before penetration, and therefore is not

applied at the most vulnerable point. But the armor piercing

bomb has several disadvantages. In order to obtain the necessary strength for penetrating armor, the case of the bomb

must be much heavier. The proportion of high explosive must,

therefore, be reduced to an amount comparable with the shell,

and one of the advantages of the demolition bomb surrendered. Moreover, the armor piercing bomb must be dropped

from high altitudes, in order to obtain from gravity the necessary striking velocity. This is not a serious disadvantage, as a

rule, for bombing of this character will usually be done from

well above 7,000 feet. In some cases however, it might prove a

serious defect; a low ceiling, for example, might render the

armor piercing bomb useless, where attacks with the demolition bomb would be feasible.

A further disadvantage lies in the necessity for greater accuracy when using the armor piercing bomb. The demolition bomb

is many times more powerful in mining effect, weight for weight,

than the armor piercing bomb. The latter is therefore almost useless, unless it obtains a direct hit. The demolition bomb, on the

other hand, while it does a great deal of damage on a direct hit,

is probably even more destructive, when it explodes in the water

alongside the ship, within the distances mentioned above, and

from 20 to 40 feet under the surface of the water. For these reasons, it seems probable that the demolition bomb will, in general,

prove to be the more useful of the two in attacking sea craft.

However, our information is entirely too meager at this time, to

draw a positive conclusion. Further experimentation is highly

desirable. In particular, the armor piercing bomb has a sphere of

usefulness in the attack of certain classes of permanent and

semi-permanent land fortifications, where penetration is essential and no mining effect possible.

Chemical bombs. Among those who are unacquainted

with the subject, there arose in the World War, a belief that

chemical warfare was the very last word in barbarity. Those
who have had opportunities to compare the relative suffering

caused by gas and by shell fragments may well doubt this conclusion. In fact, medical statistics indicate that gas was perhaps the most humane of all methods of putting an enemy out

of action, since it resulted proportionately in fewer deaths and

fewer permanent injuries than any of the other common agencies of warfare. However, the misconception has become widespread, and the matter is definitely settled for Americans, at

least. The United States has formally agreed by treaty to outlaw the use of poisonous gases. However, all the nations of the

world are not signatories to that treaty; and we possess no

assurance that the next war may not find us involved with a

non-signatory power, that would not hesitate to use this

weapon. Accordingly, for mere purposes of self-defense, it is

the part of wisdom for America to continue her investigation of

chemical agents. Moreover, many of the agents, which are

usually classified as chemical, are not banned by treaty. 

There are three kinds of chemical bombs in general use:

incendiary bombs, smoke bombs, and gas bombs.

Incendiary bombs. The purpose of the incendiary bomb is

sufficiently described by its name. The difficulties that have

been experienced in setting fire to different types of targets

have resulted in the development of two classes of incendiary

bombs. The intensive type of bomb is designed to fire larger

buildings or dumps, and is filled with a special thermit or

other similar material, which burns at a very high temperature. The scatter type of bomb, on the other hand, is designed

to spread burning particles of smaller intensity over a wider

space. It is therefore preferred against such objectives, for

example, as fields of ripe wheat, which are easy to ignite, but

are widely dispersed.

Smoke bombs. The smoke bomb which has been most

widely used, weighs 50 pounds, and makes use of white phosphorous as the smoke producing agency. Experiments that

have been conducted with this bomb, indicate that it will cover

with smoke an area of about 100 yards in diameter, or that it

will make a screen about 800 yards in length and 100 yards

in width, in a wind of 10 miles an hour. The smoke will

remain, on an average, about ten minutes. Another type of
bomb in use by the Navy, floats on the surface of the water.

While these bombs have proved quite successful in experiments, the development of the smoke laying apparatus bids

fair to replace the smoke bomb in a large class of operations

where it formerly was employed. Of course, the smoke bomb

will still retain its usefulness, even for laying screens, where

the airplane performing this mission runs an unnecessarily

great risk of being shot down.

Gas bombs. In the World War, even after both sides had

begun to make common use of poison gas, aircraft bombs

were rarely used for this purpose. This seems all the more

remarkable, when we recall that the bomb may carry a far

greater proportion of the chemical than the shell, which nevertheless was often employed. Several reasons were responsible for the failure to make use of the bomb. As a usual thing,

gas attacks must attain to a certain concentration, in order to

be effective. In the World War, for the greater part of its duration, bombs were small. The 300-pound bombs were certainly

but a very small proportion of the total number dropped on the

enemy. Moreover, mass operations of aircraft were just beginning to develop. Even by the end of the war, it would have been

difficult for any combatant to put over the enemy’s lines

enough bombing airplanes to produce really effective gas concentrations. It must be remembered, too, in connection with

this, as well as with many other phases of air warfare, that the

airplane was a new invention, and it requires time for men to

realize its many possibilities.

In consequence of these facts the air force was not in the

best of positions to wage chemical warfare, which was accordingly left to artillery and to special chemical troops. Furthermore, suitable targets for gas attack were usually well within

range of artillery, so that no impetus existed for the development of aircraft chemical bombs. However, the conditions that

prevailed in the World War are no longer the same. Many of the

objections to gas attacks from the air have already vanished,

in so far as physical limitations are concerned; moreover it can

clearly be foreseen that the remainder will be altered in the

near future. Indeed, no feature of future warfare promises
consequences of so terrible a nature as surprise attacks with

poison gas, delivered by aircraft on unsuspecting populations.

Of course, the United States is bound by treaty with the

greater military powers to refrain altogether from the use of

poison gas, as stated before. Moreover, it seems not unlikely

that similar agreements may soon ban the indiscriminate

bombardment of populations, which are largely civilian. We

are therefore doubly bound to take no offensive steps in this

direction. But the results of attacks of this character may be,

as Marshal Foch suggests, decisive. In view of this possibility,

a nation at war, which sees not other chance of achieving victory or of avoiding defeat, will be sorely tempted to resort to

this method, however inhumane it may be considered in the

general opinion of mankind. We have ample historical precedent for believing that a desperate belligerent may not be able

to resist such a temptation, in spite of the effect of unfavorable

public opinion. In emergencies, there is a tendency for control

to be seized by the more radical elements. On this account, it

behooves us to consider the weapons that may be used, if only

from a standpoint of defense.

For most semi-persistent and non-persistent gases, the

300-pound bomb is best suited, as it carries the weight of gas

which gives the most effective concentration. For the persistent types of gas however, such as the well-known mustard

gas, it is more desirable to use small amounts, and to scatter

them more widely; on this account of the 25-pound bomb is

considered more suitable.

Fuses. There are a number of types of fuses used in

bombs, differing both with the kind of bomb, and with the

nature of the target it is to be dropped upon. Chemical bombs,

like the fragmentation bombs previously described, are usually armed with instantaneous fuses, in order that the bomb

may burst before penetrating the soil. Demolition bombs are

similarly fused when intended for use against personnel; however, when employed against such targets as naval vessels of

land fortifications, they are armed with delayed action fuses of

various lengths of time, depending on the penetration desired.

For use against light objectives, such as balloons and airships,

supersensitive fuses are employed. Bombs are usually pro-
vided with both nose and tail fuses, in order the better to

insure detonation. All fuses are so constructed that they are

“safe,” until the bomb has been dropped from the airplane,

and has been some time in flight.

Bomb sights. Along with the progress that has been made

both in the size and in the design of the bomb itself, there has

gone a marked development in the bomb sight. The crudity of

the earlier sights has already been mentioned. Even by the

end of the World War, bombing was very inaccurate except

under the most favorable conditions. With the improvements

which have taken place, not only has there been a notable

increase in target range accuracy, but also many of the tactical disadvantages that formerly obtained in bombing have

been removed; so that the tactical power of bombardment aviation has been greatly enhanced.

Within the limited scope of this chapter it is impractical to

describe the tactical details of the sights of the past, and to show

how the major defects have one by one been eliminated. It must

suffice to say that present knowledge in regard to bomb trajectories is much more accurate, and that the necessary corrections

have been embodied in the new sight, and to add to this a

description of the methods of operating the two. It is perhaps in

the latter respect that the tactical disadvantages under which

the bomber formerly labored have been most alleviated. In using

the older sights it was necessary for the bomber to approach the

target either exactly into the wind or else exactly with it. In peace

time bombing practice this is not always a marked disadvantage,

for the direction of the wind can usually be told with the desired

degree of accuracy. This is not always the case, however, even in

practice bombing, and any error in piloting the airplane results

in a corresponding error in the bombing. Moreover, in war, it is

obviously undesirable to be limited in the direction of approach

to one azimuth line. Then, too, this line had to be followed accurately. It sounds quite easy to do this, but in fact flying on an

exactly straight line is somewhat difficult; and the problems of

the pilot were increased with the older sights, because he was

unable himself to view the target through the sights, but had to

rely on the bombing observer, who could assist the pilot in keeping the airplane properly aligned, only by the crude method of
waving his hand in the direction he wished the machine to be

turned.

But the greatest obstacle to good bombing, from both a

technical and a tactical standpoint, lay in the fact that his

straight course at a constant speed and altitude had to be

maintained for several miles, in order that the observation and

settings necessary for accuracy might be made. Considering

these difficulties, a surprisingly high degree of accuracy was

obtained in actual target practice. But it is apparent that the

tactical disadvantages which such a sight imposed would

inevitably decrease the accuracy of bombing very greatly in

war. In a subsequent chapter, it will be seen that the accuracy

of antiaircraft guns depends on the assumption that the

speed, course, and altitude of the airplane remain the same

during the time of flight of the antiaircraft projectile, as well as

in the period preceding the actual discharge of the gun, during the time of flight of the antiaircraft projectile, as well as in

the period preceding the actual discharge of the gun, during

which the observations for the shot were being made. Of

course, the pilot of the airplane being fired upon, will take

good care to see that these conditions do not obtain, wherever

his own mission permits him to do so. But with the older sight,

he could not change either speed, course, or altitude, when

approaching the target, without sacrificing accuracy; he was,

in short, impelled to fly under conditions which were in every

respect ideal for the antiaircraft gunner. The newest sight does

much to remedy this defect. The bomber may now approach

from any direction, he may change speed, or he may alter his

course in either a horizontal or a vertical plane, in order to

avoid antiaircraft fire. He must of course fly a straight line just

before discharging his bombs, but for a few seconds only, and

not for many miles, as was formerly the case. Furthermore, to

assist the pilot in this, a new device now enables him to see for

himself when the sight is on the target. Experiments with the

new sight show that its accuracy, from the purely technical

point of view, is far greater than the old; its tactical superiority in actual warfare is apparent.

History of the tactical development of bombardment aviation. In the World War a marked distinction eventually came to
be made between day and night bombardment aviation. Protected to a large extent by darkness, the latter operated with

comparative safety, and was an effective agency of destruction,

physically and morally. The history of day bombardment aviation

was, however, a chequered one. The single bomber is peculiarly

helpless in a fight with a flight of pursuit airplanes. And although

bombing airplanes have considerable power of defense, when in

formations, nevertheless, if unsupported, they will eventually

suffer defeat. For some time in the World War the losses of day

bombardment aviation were so severe that there arose a conviction in many minds that the results achieved were not worth the

cost. Germany, notably, came to this conclusion, and practically

abandoned the use of this branch of the air force. After somewhat similar experiences, the Americans also began to entertain

doubts of its value. But from every side there poured in unmistakable proof that the moral effect of day bombing on the enemy

was out of all proportion to the small number of airplanes

employed and the small weight of metal and explosive they could

discharge in one “broadside.”

The Americans were accordingly very loath to give up so

valuable a weapon, and instead turned their attention to

devising means of reducing the truly demoralizing losses.

Greater stress began to be put upon formation flying; once the

feeling became fixed that safety lay in “tight” formations, and

that the straggler was doomed, a forward tactical step had

been taken. Equal emphasis was laid on gunnery. When all

the gunner-observers had become good shots, capable of

ignoring their own assailants, and concentrating their fire on

the assailants of their comrades in the formation, there arose

that feeling of group confidence, which lies at the basis of

effective tactical methods. But perhaps the greatest forward

step, in a tactical sense, was due to making suitable arrangement for cooperative measures between pursuit and bombardment aviation. The difficulties of “close” protection have

been discussed before; because of these, no such plan was

contemplated. But the reaction of hostile pursuit aviation to

day bombardment attacks was always immediate and violent.

Even where its general attitude was defensive in character,

German pursuit units would follow day bombardment aviation
far into the latter

s lines, attacking again and again. If other

evidence had been lacking, the determination with which

these attacks were pressed home was sufficient in itself to

show the effect of day bombing on the enemy. Based upon the

observed methods of the Germans, a plan of cooperation was

arrived at, which was simple enough in principle. A bombing

raid would be planned. From a study of the enemy’s situation—and in particular his known or suspected listening posts

and airdromes—it was usually possible to estimate within reasonably accurate limits, the time and place his pursuit units

would fall upon the day bombers. It remained then to bring to

this place a superior force of American pursuit aviation,

preferably at the time when the Germans had just become

engaged with the bombers and so were at a disadvantage.

An example of the results of such an operation as that

described occurred on October 4, 1918. On that date, several

bombardment squadrons were sent to attack Dun-sur-Meuse

and Landres-St. Georges. They flew as directed, in column of

squadrons, with the American Ninety-Sixth Squadron in the

lead. As was expected, German pursuit units made their

appearance, and violently assailed the bombers. The Germans

were equipped with Fokkers, and numbered about thirty airplanes. Soon they were thoroughly involved in the attack on

the bombers. In the midst of this fight, two squadrons of the

American Second Pursuit Group arrived over the scene. In

numbers, they approximately equaled the Germans, but the

well timed attack caught the latter at a distinct disadvantage.

In the resulting combat, thirteen German airplanes were

destroyed—nearly half their combat strength—with a loss to

the American of only one machine.

Of course, by no means all of the combined operations of

American pursuit and bombardment units, were as successful

as the example given. But this combat was in striking contrast

to the earlier unfortunate experiences, and such a result could

never have been achieved except by following sound tactical

methods. Even though the results of sorties were not always

so favorable to the Americans as in this case, nevertheless, by

this time, losses were no longer incommensurate with the

damage inflicted. Day bombardment aviation was seen to be
an arm well worth retaining, and this became a settled American policy.

The objective of bombardment. From the very nature of

the weapon, bombardment aviation is used for strategical

purposes rather than tactical, using these two words in a

rather general sense. It is equipped with such powerful means

of destruction, that it is obviously uneconomical to employ it

when the lighter weapons of attack aviation will suffice.

Accordingly, the use of bombardment aviation against personnel is restricted to circumstances where they are well protected, or so concentrated as to warrant the use of the larger

bombs. This objective must be regarded as exceptional. Of

course, all action in war is governed by the demands of the

special situation, and it needs no very vivid imagination to

conjure up one, where it would be justifiable to use all bombardment units against the very advanced waves of infantry.

Another exception, which will be of more frequent occurrence,

is the attack of hostile airdromes in conjunction with attack

aviation. But in general, the objectives of bombardment aviation lie well in rear of the enemy’s front line, in land warfare.

The general objectives of attack may be grouped under four

categories. First, in order of importance, in warfare between

states separated by a land frontier, comes the bombardment of

large centers of population; essentially, the decision to resort

to this measure, is a political one. The next class of objectives

to be considered is the enemy’s system of supply; this includes

the factories where munitions are made, the most advanced

depots where final issue takes place, and the intervening

means of transportation and storage. A third class of objectives that will most frequently bring bombardment aviation to

the land battlefield, consists of fortifications, which cannot be

effectively neutralized by other agencies. Finally, in the special

case of coast defense, bombardment is a powerful instrument

for the destruction of sea craft of all kinds.

The bombing of towns and cities. To the student of air

warfare of the future, the status of air bombardment in international law is a matter of profound concern, since it may

have far reaching effects on the strategical employment of the

air force. It must, therefore, be briefly considered, even though
it is essentially a political matter. In the World War, if we

except the bombardment missions which were really attack in

nature, a large proportion of bombing raids––certainly the

most conspicuous ones––were directed against towns and

cities. Paris and London were the favorite targets of the Germans, while the Allies in turn operated against the Rhine

towns. In actual fact, the bombardment was practically indiscriminate. The civilian population nearly always suffered more

casualties than the military forces; nor was this result entirely

accidental and unpremeditated. There can be no doubt that

the effect on the civilian population was often the real motive

of the attack. But, on the other hand, it is equally clear that

neither side intended or hoped, to achieve a decision by paralyzing the “home front” and slaughtering untold numbers of

non-combatants. Throughout the war both sides maintained

the pretense that their bombing attacks were directed solely

against military objectives. For example, some German aviators, who were forced to land and were made prisoners in the

course of a raid on Paris, were found to have orders prescribing the targets they were to bomb, and specifying that the

objects of attack were used “solely for military purposes.”

All this, of course, may be dismissed as a mere mask, to

cover a criminal purpose and to protect the perpetrators from

the fate of the war criminal. But it is scarcely just to jump to

this conclusion. The true motive of the attacks is revealed in

the statement of Ludendorff, which is corroborated by von

Hoeppner, who commanded the German air forces in the latter part of the war. The latter states that one of the main purposes of the attacks on London was to compel England to

“retain a large portion of her air strength at home,” instead of

putting it on the front, where military considerations alone,

untinged by the political, would almost certainly have placed

it. Of course, it is quite clear from this statement that the

attacks were intended to frighten the civilian population. Had

soldiers alone, or even dumps and munition factories been the

true objectives, it would have been rather unnecessary to go

all the way to London to find them. The Germans believed that

the clamor of civilians for protection would find a ready echo

among the governing politicians who would force the military
authorities to protect the city. The event seems fully to have

justified their belief.

But we do not need the ex parte statements of German

leaders to prove that the Germans intended to inflict no more

damage on the civilian population, than was absolutely necessary to accomplish a direct military purpose. The facts speak

for themselves. No military man can regard the sporadic raids

on London and Paris as a serious effort to accomplish a decisive military result. They were, after all, quite petty affairs,

compared with what the Germans might have accomplished,

even with the limited means of that time; there was none of the

mass effect, none of the thoroughness, which characterized

every major German operation. If sheer “frightfulness” had

been the aim, a mass attack with gas bombs on London, for

example, would have produced an infinitely more demoralizing

effect on the unprotected population. The very aspect of these

air attacks bespeaks their purpose: a diversion, pure and simple, and a remarkable successful one.

History then, contains no example of a serious major air campaign directed against the unarmed portion of the enemy’s population; nor can anyone accurately predict the future. But that

such a campaign may well be a feature of the next war, is evidenced by the opinion of Marshal Foch, which was previously

mentioned. Moreover he is not alone in entertaining such an

idea. Captain René Fonck, leading French “ace” at the end of the

World War and later member of the Chamber of Deputies, clearly

foresees such a menace to the future of France. In his able treatise, L’Aviation et la Securité Française, he estimates that a fleet

of airplanes, each capable of carrying a useful load of slightly

more than 2 tons, could destroy a square kilometer of any town

or city in a single night. “In two or three weeks of war,” he concludes, “a city of the importance of Paris could be annihilated,

over the greater part of it.” The imagination recoils in horror from

the contemplation of the suffering that such a systematic nightby-night destruction of a large center of population would inflict.

Moreover, aside from the humane aspects of the thing, such

destruction might seriously jeopardize all military operations.

The annihilation of Paris, for example, would all but paralyze the

French lines of communication, and render impossible the
proper supply of a huge army. It can readily be conceived that a

calamity of this magnitude would create a demand for peace that

could not be denied.

From the military point of view, there is nothing inherently

impracticable in such an operation as the destruction of a city.

The difficulties of defense are almost insurmountable. The

best defense is indeed a vigorous offense. If we carry this conception to its logical conclusion, we find the situation of two

belligerents each conducting a systematic destruction of the

other’s cities, until one or the other is no longer able to stand

the punishment, and sues for peace. Of course, this is an

extreme case. Needless to say, each would also take steps to

destroy the other’s air force. But once a belligerent had determined on the destruction of hostile cities, as a means of bringing the enemy to terms, this course would be followed largely

to the exclusion of other objectives. It is by no means certain

however, that the next war will witness devastation on so huge

a scale. Two forces will tend to prevent the contestants from

resorting to such extreme measures.

The present trend of international law, as witnessed by

tentative agreements among the major powers, definitely forbids the bombardment of civilians for the purpose of intimidation, and restricts legitimate attacks solely to military objectives. The skeptic will at once advance a doubt that any rule of

international law will hold up against the dire need of a combatant, and he can find ample historical precedent to reinforce

this doubt, some of it quite recent; but in this connection, the

political consequences of German contempt of international

law should not be forgotten. Of course, in strict logic, under

the modern conception of the “nation in arms,” with every

member of it a “war worker” of some kind or other, there is no

sound reason for granting immunity from attack to any class

of enemy subjects. But fortunately perhaps, humanity is not

always governed by strict logic. There has always been a sentiment among mankind to mitigate the horrors of war, as far

as the nature of the thing permits. Among peoples in whom

the spirit of sport has been strongly inculcated, it is peculiarly

abhorrent to contemplate the waging of war on unarmed civilians of all ages and sexes. One type of realist may see in this
only unreasoning emotion. But any attempt to understand

war, without a high evaluation of the emotions and instincts,

is foredoomed to failure, for they enter into the warp and woof

of the thing.

Furthermore, even though no sentiment may exist in support of international law, nevertheless a potent restraint will

always be exercised by the fear of reprisals. The World War

offers examples of this. When the Allies answered attacks on

Paris and London with similar operations against the Rhine

towns, there was a very marked growth of German sentiment

against the bombardment of civilian populations, which

notably increased as the Allied attacks grew in number and in

intensity. Indeed civilian groups tried on several occasions to

induce the German authorities to open negotiations with the

Allies with a view to banning the bombardment of towns. We

may expect this motive to appear in full force in wars of the

future. A belligerent will hesitate a long time, before beginning

an attack on a city, when he himself lies open to reprisal. In

such circumstances, an agreement, either expressed or understood may take place. Every veteran of the World War is familiar with such understandings, for there were, on both sides,

certain quiet, or “nursery” sectors, where, by tacit agreement,

each belligerent refrained from all but a slight pretense of military activity. Of course, where one of the contestants is so situated that he can bomb the enemy’s cities without fear of having to undergo the same punishment, international law will be

subjected to its severest trial.

The bombing of supply systems. Napoleon’s epigram that

“an army moves on its belly,” expresses a truth that is of far

greater consequence today, than ever before in the history of

war. In the time of Caesar, for example, the soldier could carry

on his own person almost his entire needs in both food and in

munitions of war, for several days of hard combat. Indeed, if

sufficient food were available, the general could usually dismiss all further consideration of supply from his mind, and

concern himself only with tactical and strategical matters.

Moreover, with the small armies of earlier times, the food problem rarely assumed a position of dominance in the situation.

Of course, communications had to exist, as at present. But
they exercised no such constraining effect as they do in the

modern army. The modern composite soldier—if we can imagine such—needs a long list of munitions, besides rations. And

even in respect to the latter, the modern army, with its millions of men, gathered as a rule in a restricted space, presents

a difficult problem. The commander of today is tied fast to his

roads and railroads. The modern system of supply is a thing

far more complex than in former days, and perhaps even more

vital.

It was stated before that any decision to bomb cities is necessarily political in character. War, according to Clausewitz, is

merely a continuation of politics; it is accordingly difficult to

draw a clearly defined boundary line between the political and

the military aims of a state; indeed the latter are necessarily

subservient to the former. But in common usage, the meanings are sufficiently distinct, and there is little fear of misunderstanding in making the statement that the military objective of bombardment aviation, par excellence, is the hostile

system of supply.

Before discussing the operations of bombardment aviation

against the supply establishments, it is desirable to outline

briefly the modern system of supplying a large army in the

field. Of necessity, the system will vary with every campaign,

for each will differ from the others in the needs of the troops,

in the distance of the theatre of operations from the centers of

manufacture, and in many other respects. However, there are

certain features common to all systems, so that a description

of a type system will be found to fit nearly any situation, with

some modifications. In the beginning of course, all munitions

of war exist as raw material, which is taken from field, mine,

or forest, and carried to industrial centers to be fabricated into

the desired articles. From the factories the finished products

of various kinds are carried, either by railroads or by ships, to

a place of storage and trans-shipment, which may be called

the base depot of the army. Now these munitions will arrive at

the base depot, as a rule, irregularly and in large quantities.

On the other hand, it is desirable that all supplies for the army

leave the base depot in a continuous and regular flow, in the

amounts needed for the period. Thus, a base depot might
receive on one day a definite amount of each commodity

needed, or what may be referred to as a balanced stock. It is

apparent that the base depot must keep on hand at all times

a certain reserve of commodities of all kinds, as a reservoir, if

the irregular inflow and the regular outflow are to be maintained. From the base depot, supplies of all kinds, in the form

of a balanced stock of the amount needed for the period, are

transported to the railheads, where they are turned over to the

organizations for which they are intended.

Of course, this is a mere skeleton of the supply system.

Many other elements enter into it. For example, in proportion

as the communications between the base depot and the railheads are long and subject to interruption, there must be

other depots, where suitable working reserves of balanced

stocks are kept. Thus, there might be thirty days’ supplies of

all kinds in the base depot, six days’ in an intermediate depot,

three days’ in an advanced depot, and even a small reserve at

the railhead, to meet unexpected contingencies. This brief

sketch of the supply system will suffice for a consideration of

the proper objectives of bombardment aviation.

The long rang of the bomber should be utilized to the full,

and every sensitive point and nerve center of the system put

under pressure, in an effort to paralyze the whole. This does

not mean however that everything pertaining to the enemy’s

supply system should be indiscriminately bombarded. Such a

course would almost certainly result in dispersion, and a consequent decrease in the effect of the bombing as a whole. Not

a mission should be executed, which does not fit in with a well

defined strategical plan.

It is apparent from the description of the typical supply

system, that the selection of the class of objectives to be

attacked, will be influenced by the factor of time. Ordinarily,

the industrial centers constitute the logical targets: for this

strikes at the very roots of the supply system. When a factory

is completely destroyed, its rebuilding is a matter of months or

even years; it can usually be eliminated as a factor in the war.

Obviously if all the key plants in the munitions industry of a

belligerent were destroyed, his power of waging effective war

would be limited to the length of time his reserve supplies
would last. Generally this would not exceed two or three

months. However, in certain cases, it would be poor strategy

to concentrate on the attack of factories and industrial centers. If a situation should arise in which the decisive battles

were expected to be fought out within a month or two, it would

have little or no influence on the campaign to conduct a concentrated air offensive against the industrial centers of the

enemy. The pressure to be brought on him must be immediate, even though it be of shorter duration. The proper objects

of attack in this case would lie nearer the front, and bombing

operations would be aimed at the various depots and places of

storage, or at the lines of communications.

The bombing of industrial centers. In the modern conception of war, the mobilization of the army and navy is

accompanied by a mobilization, similar in all respects, of the

entire industry of the state. This is an exceedingly complex

arrangement, and this very quality of modern industry renders it vulnerable. It would be quite impossible to attack every

factory of the enemy, which was engaged in fabricating munitions of war. Their very number would forbid this, even if all of

them were within range of the bombers. However it is not necessary to accomplish this extreme result, in order to cripple

any given industry. In general, the finished product does not

come from one self-contained plant, which takes in only the

raw materials, or from any number of similar plants. Industry

consists rather of a complex system of interlocking factories,

each of which makes only its allotted part of the whole. This is

an era of specialization. Accordingly, in the majority of industries, it is necessary to destroy certain elements of the industry only, in order to cripple the whole. These elements may be

called the key plants. These will be carefully determined, usually before the outbreak of war. They will be accurately located

at the same time, preferably by air photographs. On the declaration of war, these key plants should be made the objective

of a systematic bombardments, both by day and by night,

until their destruction has been assured, or at least until they

have been sufficiently crippled.

It is probable that the importance of this class of bombing

operations has not been widely appreciated. Not every man
realizes how closely modern war depends on modern industry:

the destruction of one would render the other impossible,

unless the enemy were similarly situated. We are accustomed

to think of war as being decided only on the battlefield, and

indeed this is true: only the courage of mankind can ever win

victories and secure safety to the nation. But industrial efficiency can give to its possessor a tremendous advantage,

when at length he arrives on the battlefield. Accordingly the

destruction of an enemy’s industries assumes a tremendous

military importance. Bombing raids of this character are none

the less important, because their effects are not immediately

visible. They may be likened in this respect to sea power,

which, though unseen, yet may throttle the military strength

of a nation. 

An example of bombing operations of this class occurred in

the World War. Convinced of the necessity of striking at such

German industries as were within range, the British organized

a special force for this purpose. It was known as the Independent Air Force, and was commanded by Sir Hugh Trenchard.

From June, 1918, to the end of the war, this force conducted

a systematic air offensive against German industrial plants at

Saarbrücken, Frankfurt, Mannheim, and other German centers. These hazardous raids were kept up by day and by night,

more than 500 tons of bombs being dropped on the German

factories during this period. While it is difficult to evaluate the

work of this unit in mathematical terms, it can be stated that

the results were well worth the cost, even though the latter

included the lives of many gallant officers.

The bombing of lines of communications. It may often

occur that the industrial centers of the enemy are beyond the

reach of the airplane, or that results at the front must be

achieved more quickly. In these cases, the lines of communications generally offer the most promising targets for bombardment aviation. For purposes of this discussion, the various depots mentioned above may be included in the lines of

communications, since they are in effect the termini of the

lines. Where supplies must be transported over land, the railroad is far and away the important agency. It is true that

motor transport has come to play an important part in the
supply system. In some situations, it may indeed vie with the

railroad in importance : such was the case in the battles of

1916 about Verdun, where the road from Bar-le-Duc to Verdun became the chief supply artery of the hard pressed city,

and was handed down to fame as the Via Sacra of the World

War. But at the present time at least, motor transport is chiefly

useful in distributing supplies from the railhead to the organizations. The railroad is the backbone of overland transportation, and as such is the commonly selected objective of air

attacks on the lines of communication.

The best results in the attack of railroads are achieved by

combined operations of attack and of bombardment aviation.

The functions of the former consist in the attack of all moving

trains, in the manner previously described, and in cutting the

rails at many points. So long as approximately the present

conditions continue to exist, attack aviation can definitely stop

all train movements by day within range of its activities. The

cutting of rails may seem to be of little importance, since such

an injury can be quickly repaired. But attack aviation can

readily execute such demolitions with accuracy, and with little danger to itself, since it would be quite impossible to protect every point of a long line; and a large number of these

minor injuries, although each in itself may be small, may

mount up to a significant total of delays. In particular, attack

aviation may accomplish important results against ammunition trains : a successful attack of this kind in the World War,

resulted in stopping all traffic on that line for more than two

days.

The heavier tasks in the attacks of railroads however, fall

to bombardment aviation. Against the line proper, it will direct

its blows chiefly against such sensitive points as tunnels,

bridges, and other defiles. But it will conduct also a systematic attack of stations and depots, paying particular attention

to the larger stores of ammunition. A vivid picture of the

results of the successful bombing of a large ammunition

depot, is given by Major Oliver Stewart in “The Strategy and

Tactics of Air Fighting.” A British pilot flying towards France

over the Channel noticed a thick layer of smoke in the sky,

which grew heavier as he approached nearer to France, “until
it resembled a thunder cloud.

 Investigating, he discovered

that the pall of smoke extended from Cape Gris-Nez to

Audruicq, a distance of 20 miles. It all came from the huge

British ammunition dump at the latter place, which had been

set on fire that morning by German bombers. The effect of this

must have had on the British ammunition supply can be

appreciated, in the light of an example, which will be given

later.

From the statements made before, it is evident that the

plan of attack on a line of communication must be based upon

the specific case. First of all, the enemy’s supply system must

be studied, in precisely the same way that the intelligence

service attempts to ascertain the strength, dispositions, and

intentions of the hostile combatant elements. From this, the

sensitive points of the system may be ascertained, and concentrated upon; as in the case of industries, it is idle to

attempt to destroy all: it is sufficient to destroy certain parts

only, for the system is not vital in all its members. In particular, the attacks must be so directed that it will be impossible

to divert traffic over parallel lines, and so attain the same end.

The vital importance of the lines of communications, and

the disaster that may follow on their destruction, is witnessed

by many historical examples. Even damage which falls far

short of destruction of the whole may nevertheless exercise a

decisive influence. An incident that occurred in the opening

days of the World War serves to illustrate the possible results

of any derangement of the railroads of a combatant. At one

stage in the negotiations, which at length ended in war, the

German Emperor contemplated a change in the plans of concentration, with a view to transferring certain troops from the

French frontier, for which they were destined in the original

plans, to the Russian border. He consulted with his Chief of

the General Staff, von Moltke, as to the practicability of this

modification of the plans. Von Moltke was quite emphatic in

his view that the change was wholly inadvisable. The plans, he

insisted, had been worked out to the minutest detail; the exact

schedule of every train had been prescribed, to the very

minute. Any attempt to alter the scheme, even in details which

seemed unimportant, might well jeopardize the success of the
campaign. Von Moltke sorrowfully relates that the Emperor

seemed displeased at this opinion, and made invidious comparisons between the former and his famous uncle.

One is tempted to believe that von Moltke did indeed exaggerate the difficulties of the proposed change; nevertheless, a

rapid concentration of large forces in the shortest possible

time cannot be made unless every detail be prearranged, and

every railroad be used to its full capacity of trains. This of

course, necessarily implies that schedules must be followed

exactly. It requires little imagination to understand what the

results would be on such a concentration as that of 1914, if

the lines in rear of the covering forces had been subjected to

systematic air attacks. Indeed, under such circumstances, the

concentration would become impossible. It may safely be said

that one of the consequences of air development has been to

force the concentration, which takes place immediately upon

mobilization, to be made out of range of serious airplane

attack.

Another example of the effect that may be had on major

operations by air attacks against the lines of communications,

is given by Col. the Hon. M. A. Wingfield, in the Army Quarterly for January, 1926. In considering the vulnerability of the

supply system of the Second British Army in 1918, he states

that in the base depots, there were kept supplies for thirty

days; in front of the base depots, “there would rarely be more

than a maximum six days’ supply.” The railroads leading to

the front were so few that it required three-fourths of their full

capacity to supply the troops at the front in active operations,

even when all other railway movements were suspended. He

concludes from his studies that “the complete blocking of the

lines for six days would have emptied the entire echelons and

reserves available at the front, and much less than this would

have been sufficient to dislocate the whole system and prejudice the success of any operations in progress. If one ammunition train were to have been blown up on one of the double

lines, sufficient damage might have been done to reduce our

transport facilities by two-fifths for perhaps two or three days,

and the mere threat of such a castrophe was sufficient to

cause serious dislocation in the railway programme, since it
became the practice for trains to stop and damp down their

fires whenever the enemy’s bombers were known to be over

our lines by night.”

The study made by this writer clearly shows the difficulty

that will exist in future warfare in supplying the huge armies

of the World War type, where active air operations are undertaken with modern bombing equipment. One is compelled to

agree with his conclusion, that “it does not seem impossible. . . .

that action from the air could definitely prevent trench warfare

occurring again as we knew it in France.” One might go even

farther, and venture the assertion that this is among the probabilities. It is unlikely that any future war, in which the United

States may become involved, will be fought in the theatre more

plentifully supplied with roads and railroads than was France

in 1918. If these lines of communications were taxed almost to

the limit of their strength, in supplying the huge army at the

front, when bombing was in its infancy, there seems little

probability that an inferior network of railroads can accomplish the result, when bombing becomes the serious menace

which is presaged by recent developments.

Overseas Communications. When a line of communications crosses the sea, the problem of supply may prove more

difficult of solution than is the case with railroads. Of necessity, cargo must be carried on merchant vessels, which are

peculiarly vulnerable to air attack. The World War is still fresh

in memory, and everyone is familiar with the desperate straits

to which Great Britain—and the Allied Powers as a whole—

was put as a result of the operations of a comparatively few

submarines. This danger was at length met and overcome, but

it would be idle to deny that the German submarine campaign

narrowly missed success. At that time bombardment of vessels from the air was never seriously undertaken. What the

result would have been if the Germans had concentrated their

air force against shipping, even with the inadequate equipment of that period furnishes an interesting theme for speculation. But of course while this was not done, and accordingly

we have no data from this source from which conclusions may

be drawn, it is nevertheless instructive to compare the merchant vessel

s means of defense against the submarine, with

those she has to employ against the airplane.

Both submarine and airplane can launch projectiles powerful enough to sink any merchant vessel; so in this respect,

these is little choice, although the airplane bomb contains a

larger charge of high explosive. The faster merchant vessels

may often evade the torpedo of the submarine by zigzagging; in

theory, the same tactics may be employed against the airplane,

as will appear in a subsequent chapter; but in practice, the

speed of the falling bomb is many times that of the torpedo,

and the vessel has comparatively little chance of evading a well

directed shot. The vessel was often faster than the submarine,

and when apprised of the latter’s presence, could run out of

danger; this is quite impossible against the airplane. When the

vessel reaches the safety of a harbor, all danger of submarine

attack is usually past; airplane attacks will generally by

directed against harbors, as well as the sea approaches to

them. Finally, by means of convoys, the danger of the submarine was greatly reduced in the World War; some similar system

may be attempted in the future to guard against air attacks,

but as will appear from the general discussion of the defense of

vessels, in a subsequent chapter, this method offers little hope

of providing a really adequate protection.

From the above considerations, a few conclusions are warranted. So vulnerable is merchant shipping to air bombardment, and so far reaching are the results of repeated attacks

of this kind on the hostile lines of communications, that no

other objective can compare with it as the appropriate target

for bombardment aviation. Indeed, when the difficulties of air

defense are considered, it is questionable if any nation will

ever again undertake to supply a large expeditionary force

overseas, unless its base ports are beyond the reach of hostile

bombardment aviation, or unless the strength of the latter is

negligible.

Bombardment in the combat zone. It is only rarely that

bombardment aviation will be used against objectives lying in

the combat zone and within reach of artillery fire. Nor, in the

general case, is bombardment aviation suited for the attack of

personnel. But where important groups of the latter are gath-
ered together in definite localities, which are defiladed from

artillery fire, or are provided with adequate protection except

against vertical trajectories, bombardment aviation may be

used against them. Such localities are apt to be chosen as the

sites for the larger headquarters, which will be attacked in an

effort to disrupt the chain of command. An example of a very

successful attack of this nature occurred in Allenby’s campaign in Palestine, previously related. Of course too, where the

urgency of the situation is great, and enemy troops must be

halted at all costs, bombardment aviation, along with all other

air going branches, will be diverted temporarily to the missions of attack aviation.

Bombardment aviation in coast defense. No phase of the

development of air warfare is more striking than the possibilities of the bombardment airplane as an agency in coast

defense. In a subsequent chapter, the general subject of bombing attacks of shipping, and particularly of vessels of war, will

be discussed in detail. It is enough here to state that bombs

are sufficiently powerful to sink any vessel now afloat, that

defense of sea craft against air attack has nearly all the defects

inherent in the defensive in general, and that airplanes operating from a land airdrome have a great natural advantage

over those operating from a floating base. These facts make

the bombing airplane a powerful instrument to direct against

hostile expeditions attempting a forced landing. It may or may

not be true, as some authorities believe, that aircraft alone can

insure the defense of a coast line against overseas expeditions.

Certainly, it has never been done in actual war; but this

proves nothing, since it has never been attempted. Indeed all

the information we have indicates that vessels cannot hope to

operate, without suffering severe losses, within range of hostile bombardment aviation. When we consider the outstanding

features of a forced landing on hostile shores—the protecting

vessels of war, the transports crowded with troops which they

are discharging into “beetle” boats destined to land on the hostile beaches—and further reflect that all these targets will be

within range of bombardment aviation, it seems to be a desperate undertaking with small chance of a successful outcome. So true is this, that a nation which is adequately
guarded by its air force, has little to fear from direct attacks

from the sea; it may look for its enemies towards the land

alone.

Day and night bombardment. In the World War, there was

a very clearly defined line between day and night bombardment units, as regards their design and their tactical employment. The latter, having little to fear from hostile pursuit aviation, habitually operated individually, relying on darkness for

safety. But the trend of development seems now to be in the

direction of obliterating this distinction. Obviously this would

be an advantage from the standpoint of procurement, since it

would result in one type of airplane the fewer. Moreover, it is

clear that in so far as the objectives of attack in general are

concerned, there is no difference between the two classes of

bombardment; both are employed against the same essential

targets, in accordance with the same strategical plan. As night

pursuit develops in effectiveness—which may well be anticipated as a feature of the next war—it will become necessary

for night bombardment to defend itself in the same way as day

bombardment: by flying in close formations for mutual support. Obviously too, there are other reasons that favor the

employment of bombing airplanes in large numbers. The effect

of mass should always be sought, not alone for its moral effect

but also because of its greater destructive effect, even comparatively: thus, for example, a single fire started by a single

bomb each hour could be put out by the defenders, whereas

ten such fires might easily get beyond all control, if started

simultaneously. Moreover difficulties of navigation are usually

better solved, when all airplanes follow one skillful leader,

instead of proceeding individually. These reasons all indicate

that future warfare will see day and night bombing executed

by the same units.

Effect of the air situation. In principle the missions of

bombardment aviation are determined by the land or naval

situation. But the successful execution of the tasks that are

allotted to it, depends in no small measure on the elements

composing the air situation. Of these the most important is

the reaction of hostile pursuit aviation. Bombardment aviation

has considerable defensive power, and is by no means help-
less, even when attacked by superior numbers of hostile pursuit airplanes. Nevertheless, its lack of offensive power in the

air will subject it in the long run to unnecessarily high losses

and the consequent deterioration, if it is compelled to rely for

security entirely on its own powers. This was clearly shown in

the World War; and an even greater menace to bombardment

aviation may arise, if pursuit or attack aviation should develop

an effective method of bombing the bombers themselves—a

possible contingency, in the future.

At the present time, bombardment aviation may be considered as capable of temporary resistance, but it must be supported eventually by friendly pursuit aviation. This is true of

bombardment aviation to a greater extent than of the other

branches of the air force. In land warfare, attack aviation, for

example, habitually dashes in on the enemy’s lines, and penetrates to a short distance so rapidly, that it will often return

without having to fight its way against hostile pursuit aviation.

Much the same thing is true of observation aviation. But bombardment aviation will usually penetrate deeply into hostile

territory. Its speed too is so slow that an effective ground

defense system will generally give hostile pursuit units time to

attack the bombers. Frequently, it will be impossible for the

former to fall on the raiders, until the bombing is completed,

but usually they are able to intercept the bombers before the

latter can return to the friendly airdromes.

These conditions make it highly important to have bombardment operations supported, as a rule, by friendly pursuit

aviation. The pursuit airplane has a cruising speed which

exceeds that of the bomber by from 40 to 60 miles an hour. Its

fuel capacity, on the other hand, is only about half that of the

bomber. It is therefore obviously impracticable for the two to

cruise along in close company on a distant sortie, even if this

were desirable. Sometimes, in fact, the more distant objectives

of bombardment aviation are altogether beyond the cruising

radius of the pursuit airplane. But it is apparent that on some

portion of the bomber’s trip, it will be practicable to have

friendly pursuit within supporting distance. The combined

operation of these two branches of the air force should always
be so timed that this support will be provided during the

period when hostile pursuit is most apt to attack.

It is apparent that the objectives of bombardment aviation

are of such vital importance that they must be protected by all

the resources at the disposal of the defender. It is due to this

fact that the higher authorities of the state may be called upon

in some future war to arrive at a decision, very difficult to

make.

Let us assume, to illustrate, two combatants, Red and

Blue, separated by a land boundary. On the outbreak of war

each begins bombing attacks against the sensitive points of

the other, which were enumerated before. Each combatant

also uses its pursuit force only to support these raids. It is evident that, in such a situation, there would come from the people of each state, civil and military, an insistent demand for

protection. The authorities on each side may give out to the

public vivid accounts of the damage inflicted on the enemy,

but this will scarcely still the clamors of those who see only the

havoc wrought among themselves by an enemy who is seemingly unopposed. At length, the Blue authorities, forced to

yield to the pressure, place their pursuit force on the defensive, with orders to attack hostile bombardment aviation,

ignoring all other objectives. The Red authorities, on the other

hand, hold out, determined to endure their punishment, and

intent only on directing all their strength towards increasing

the power of the blows they are raining on the enemy. The Red

raids continue and in nearly every case are violently assailed

by the Blue pursuit in obedience to their orders. In every case,

the Blue squadrons, always at a disadvantage in a fight

selected by the enemy, are attacked in their turn by Red pursuit, and suffer heavy losses as compared with the latter. After

a time, as a result of these repeated battles, the superiority of

the Red pursuit force becomes so marked, that it not only can

continue to support the bombers, but can also begin determined attacks on the Blue bombers, secure from molestation

by Blue pursuit units.

Of course, in actual warfare, no situation will ever have the

clear cut simplicity of the above; nor is it possible to carry the

offensive idea invariably to its logical conclusion. But it serves
to illustrate the necessity not only of maintaining a general

offensive spirit, but also of having the fortitude to endure punishment—two qualities which will certainly have to belong to

the victor in air warfare.

If the attacks of bombardment aviation on land objectives

call forth strong reaction, which in their turn give excellent

opportunities to friendly pursuit aviation to establish control

of the air, they will have even more marked effect where

seacraft are the targets of bombardment. In this case, the

necessities of the moment must over-ride all other considerations. A pursuit force supporting sea craft cannot be permitted to assume a strictly offensive attitude, but must, at all

costs, protect the surface vessels. This is perhaps the one case

in air warfare, where the strictly defensive attitude is justifiable and necessary.

The actions of bombardment aviation must be coordinated

not only with pursuit, but also in many cases, with attack aviation. Bombardment aviation, in spite of the improvement

which has come in this respect as a result of better sights, is

still more vulnerable to antiaircraft fire than the other

branches of the air force. This is not due so much to larger

vulnerable space, as to the fact that the bombardment formation is the slowest and least maneuverable of all. Furthermore,

the targets of bombardment aviation, from their value, will

generally be better protected by antiaircraft artillery than the

objectives of the other components of the air force. While the

experience of the World War shows that antiaircraft fire can

never stop a determined force, nevertheless it is undeniable

that the effectiveness of bombing raids is increased as hostile

antiaircraft units are neutralized. This shows the desirability

of synchronizing the operations of bombardment and of attack

aviation. In fact, it should be the rule of the air force to fight

as a whole, the sweep of the pursuit squadrons affording protection from air attack to the other two components alike,

while attack aviation in its turn, puts down a neutralizing fire

on all hostile antiaircraft batteries within range. Thus proper

coordination will increase the strength and effectiveness of the

force as a whole.
209

CHAPTER VIII

ANTIAIRCRAFT DEFENSE

Importance of defense. It is universally admitted that the

best defense against aircraft is provided by other aircraft—

another exemplification of the familiar rule that like cures like.

This agency of defense has already been discussed. In previous chapters the inherent difficulties in any form of defense,

whether active or passive, were pointed out. Since no positive

and adequate defense is practicable, either under present conditions or under any future conditions which may be foreseen,

it follows that each belligerent must seek a remedy for hostile

attacks, by similar offensive action against the enemy. But if

defense lags far behind offense in air warfare—a peculiar

reversal of the conditions in land warfare—and is inadequate,

it does not follow that all attempts at defense should be abandoned. Too much must not be expected; aircraft cannot be

held, or thrown back, even by a large force, in the way we are

accustomed to see attacks repulsed in land warfare. But nevertheless, the employment of means of passive defense is not

an entirely futile thing. The vast importance of some localities

in war demands that they be protected to the utmost; every

effort must, therefore, be made, even though the protection

furnished fall short of that desired. It must be remembered

that in war the ideal is never attained, and seldom

approached; where destruction is impracticable, often neutralization will prove an acceptable substitute.

It is intended in this chapter to discuss only the passive

means of defense. These consist essentially of antiaircraft cannon and machine guns, with searchlights and listening apparatus as the principal means of locating the enemy.

Antiaircraft cannon. The antiaircraft cannon, or gun, is

usually of approximately the 3 inch calibre, although larger guns

have been designed, and are contemplated for future use. The

antiaircraft gun, quite naturally was developed from the similar
piece employed by light artillery. The most obvious modification

of the latter was that which enabled the antiaircraft gun to fire

at greater elevations: present types, for example, fire with elevations as high as 85 degrees. They cannot fire vertically, so that a

cone of “dead space” exists above each battery, which necessitates grouping the batteries so as to provide mutual protection.

Other modifications that are eagerly sought after for antiaircraft

guns, are higher muzzle velocities, and more rapid rates of fire.

The tactical significance of these qualities is great. In a subsequent paragraph, it will be seen that a great decrease in accuracy may result from increasing the time of flight of a projectile,

and this in turn, is partly a function of the initial velocity. In so

far as rate of fire is concerned, its importance is manifest with so

fleeting a target as the airplane. Antiaircraft guns are motorized.

Contrary to some popular beliefs however, they do not attempt to

fire while moving, but must be emplaced in the same manner as

other artillery. The antiaircraft gun fires both shrapnel and high

explosive shells.

The accuracy of antiaircraft guns. When the unbiased

student of air warfare attempts to arrive at an opinion as to

the accuracy of antiaircraft guns, he encounters great difficulty. This seems strange in view of the vast mass of facts in

regard to antiaircraft fire that were accumulated in the World

War. But apparently these have not yet been collected and

treated in the scientific historical manner; for authorities vary

widely in their opinions. Scarcely any other subject of importance shows such diversity of belief. It seems at times as if no

choice were left between hopelessly irreconcilable statements.

Since the value of antiaircraft fire is derived from its physical and moral effect on airmen, it is important to learn their

opinion of it. Captain Rickenbacker, in the story of his adventures in air fighting, gives interesting testimony as to his own

reaction to fire from the “Archies,” as antiaircraft guns were

called by British and American flyers in the World War. In the

vivid description of his first flight over the lines led by the veteran Lufbery, he frankly confesses how perturbed he was

when antiaircraft artillery suddenly opened fire on his airplane; he could scarcely restrain his indignation at the older
pilots, then safely on the airdrome, who had made light of

antiaircraft fire, and had assured him it was utterly harmless.

It is interesting to contrast this impression, made under

the stress of his initial sortie, with his more mature judgment,

when some months later, he had become a veteran of many

fights, and had achieved the distinction of being the premier

American “Ace.” Speaking of his opinion at that time of antiaircraft fire, he states: “To the pilot whole has actually experienced these daily straffings by Archy the whole danger

resolves itself into a question as to whether or not he will permit his imagination to terrorize him into fleeing away from so

appalling but so futile a menace. In other words, he knows

that the actual danger is almost nil.” It may be said in passing, that this represents rather closely the consensus of opinion of the pursuit pilots of the World War. It must be borne in

mind, however, that the pursuit airplane, as will appear later,

due to its speed and maneuverability, offers the poorest of all

targets to the antiaircraft gunner.

Rickenbacker’s later opinion as to the effectiveness of antiaircraft guns, receives strong confirmation from Brigadier

General P. R. C. Groves. The official position of General Groves

was such that the record of the British antiaircraft defenses

was intimately know to him, and his statements therefore

carry authority. In the Atlantic Monthly for February, 1924, he

says: “Early in the late conflict the British Ministry of Munitions estimated that in order to score a direct hit upon an

aeroplane flying at 8,000 feet and capable of a speed of 100

miles per hour, no less than 162,000 guns would have to fire

simultaneously. The experience of the war bore out that estimate. There is a difference of opinion as to the number of aeroplanes brought down by antiaircraft fire over Great Britain in

the course of the recent conflict, but the total can be placed

fairly safely at under six.”

From another source comes testimony of the same character. Writing in the Journal of the United States Artillery for February, 1921, Major Knerr approaches the problem from the

technical point of departure. After discussing the various

inherent difficulties under which antiaircraft artillery have to
labor, he concludes with the following sentence: 

It is submitted that the entire antiaircraft idea is a snare and a delusion.”

On the other side of the questions, there is also a considerable amount of evidence. Writing in the same journal for

June, 1922, Captain Harmon states that “during 1918 every

aerial attack was broken up by the Archies outside the walls

of Paris. Of 483 planes attacking, 13 were shot down and only

37 actually penetrated the defenses.” Of course, these statements lose some of their value as testimonials to antiaircraft

accuracy, when we consider the evidence of Ludendorff and

von Hoeppner, previously mentioned, to the effect that these

German raids were only a diversion, and that the German

authorities had no intention of making truly effective attacks.

The repulse of a feint is in a different category from the defeat

of a determined attack.

However, the figures given by other authorities differ very

greatly from those of General Groves. The French antiaircraft

service states that in 1918, they brought down an airplane for

every 7,500 rounds fired; while American batteries made a far

better score. According to Captain Harmon, in the article previously quoted, “considering all the American batteries in

France that fired, one plane was brought down for every 1,050

rounds fired.” This figure is notably lower than the claims of

any of our allies.

It is obviously somewhat difficult to reconcile these conflicting figures. However, before we attempt to do so, and to

arrive at some reasonable mean, it is advisable to glance

briefly at some of the problems of antiaircraft firing.

Difficulties of antiaircraft firing. Probably the difficulties

inherent in antiaircraft fire may best be understood by comparison with other classes of artillery fire. Let us consider first

the case of a battery of light artillery firing at a stationary target on the surface of the earth. The procedure consists in firing, first of all, for adjustment. Experience has shown that, no

matter how much care is exercised in procuring the firing data

for the first shot, it is nevertheless often inaccurate. Accordingly, before proceeding to fire for effect, the inaccuracies of

the first shots are closely observed and estimated, and the firing data is changed so as to bring the center of impact of the
projectiles on the target. Not until that has been accomplished

is the battery ready to begin truly accurate and effective fire.

Unfortunately for accuracy, no such procedure is possible in

antiaircraft gunnery. The airplane moves too rapidly, and the

pilot will instantly change his course and altitude, if shells

begin to come unpleasantly close. Accordingly, adjustment of

the type practiced in the usual artillery firing, is quite out of

the question for antiaircraft guns. Each shot must, as it were,

rely on its own data. It cannot be corrected by observing the

deviation of preceding shots.

It is probable however that this difficulty does not exercise

as great an influence as does a second inherent defect. All fire

on moving targets depends for its accuracy on the truth of the

assumption that the target will continue moving on the same

course at the same speed during the time of flight of the projectile. When the target is slow and is confined to a single

plane—the usual case in firing on moving targets in the past—

the difficulties are not very great. But with the advent of the

airplane, an entirely different order of things has come about.

Let us assume, for example, a pursuit airplane over hostile

territory. The antiaircraft gunner procures his data, and fires

on the intruder. However, between the time of firing and the

moment of the projectile’s arrival at the point where it is calculated the airplane will be, there may elapse a period of the

order of 20 seconds. This is time enough for the airplane to

cover a considerable distance; and it may be safely assumed,

in the general case, that the pilot will be aware of his danger,

and will not be so obliging as to continue a straight course at

constant speed. If we calculate the probability of a hit by the

roughly approximate method of taking the ratio of the danger

space of the bursting shell to the total space at any point of

which the airplane may be at the expiration of 20 seconds, the

chance of a hit on the airplane is less than one in a million. Of

course, with bombing airplanes, and with others of a lower

maneuverability factor, this figure would be materially

reduced. But it would still remain prohibitively high.

A consideration of these factors alone might lead at once to

the conclusion—which is unhesitatingly held by many serious

students of national defense—that antiaircraft guns are inher-
ently incapable of offering effective resistance to air attack,

and are a drain on the economic resources of a country, for

which no adequate return is received. But so radical an opinion is not justified, if the advantages and disadvantages of

antiaircraft guns are further considered.

Other advantages and disadvantages. From considerations such as those outlined above, there has been an increasing tendency to regard antiaircraft artillery as hopelessly outmatched in a contest with pursuit airplanes, and to restrict its

targets to the less maneuverable classes of airplanes. Some

authorities go so far as to state that antiaircraft guns are to be

employed solely against bombing airplanes. This idea has

much to commend it. The guns are primarily designed to protect ground establishments, and the bomber is the greatest

menace to these. Moreover, the bomber undoubtedly offers a

better target than the pursuit airplane. For example, a comparison between typical airplanes of the two classes shows

that the pursuit airplane has a maneuverability factor five

times as great as the bomber. Since the maneuverability factor takes into account speed, rate of climb, and minimum

radius of turn, we may accept as a rough rule of thumb that

the probability of a hit on the bomber, as compared to the pursuit airplane, is proportional to the maneuverability factor.

However it should be remembered that improvements in bomb

sights make it no longer necessary for the bomber to maintain

a constant course and speed over a distance of many miles.

These conditions of 1918, so highly favorable from the antiaircraft point of view, no longer exist, and with them passes one

of the former advantages of the gun.

On the other hand, the airman will not always be aware of

the presence of antiaircraft guns, and be maneuvering to avoid

them. He will sometimes be surprised, and caught in the first

burst of fire. At times too, even when not surprised, the importance of a particular mission will occupy his attention to the

exclusion of all else, and he will ignore the threat of the antiaircraft guns in pursuance of his own purpose. Under circumstances such as these, the accuracy of the guns will, of

course, be greatly increased.
Then too, there is a factor in the tendency of modern development which will unquestionably enhance the value of the

gun. The employment of masses has a two-fold effect: the

maneuverability of large units will inevitably be less than that

of the single airplane, while at the same time, the size of the

target will be increased. Probably these two developments will

add more to the worth of antiaircraft guns, than all other

improvements combined. They may indeed cause the guns to

become a formidable agency of defense. But as the latter

become more menacing, the air force will undoubtedly pay

greater attention to counter-battery measures. Such measures have been almost neglected in the past. It is true that in

the World War, antiaircraft guns in the front areas were sometimes fired on by artillery counter-battery guns. But those in

rear areas, protecting supply establishments and other important points, were safe from this danger, and suffered from air

attacks only rarely. Occasionally, of course, they received a

salvo of bombs—which usually had been destined for some

other target. But there was no systematic counter-battery

action, as a definite phase of the normal air attack. These conditions will certainly never continue if antiaircraft artillery

grows in power and effectiveness. As a routine thing in air

operations, units of attack aviation will be told off to silence

antiaircraft batteries.

An advantage of antiaircraft artillery that will never be

entirely lost, lies in its moral effect. This has been referred to

before; and indeed, it may be accepted as an axiom, that no man

will ever execute his allotted task when under fire, with precisely

the same degree of efficiency as when unmolested, even though

he has no very high opinion of the effectiveness of that fire.

Another advantage of antiaircraft guns that is not always

given its true value, lies in the assistance, direct and indirect,

which they may render to friendly aircraft. The difficulty of

detecting one airplane from another, while in the air, has

already been described. This may often be overcome with the

assistance of friendly antiaircraft guns. The latter may signal

the location of hostile airplanes, and so either guide the

friendly pursuit to the attack, or permit other friendly air units

to escape.
In concluding this enumeration of advantages and disadvantages, there must be included the fact that the antiaircraft

guns cannot be traversed with sufficient speed to fire on low

flying airplanes. This rôle accordingly must be undertaken by

machine gun units.

Antiaircraft fire to harass rather than to destroy. From

the foregoing discussion, it is manifestly impossible to reduce

the effect of antiaircraft gunfire in war to any mathematical

formula upon which authorities may agree, and which may be

applied, even in an approximate manner, to the widely differing conditions of service. If this result cannot be achieved from

a study of the great mass of data that was obtained in actual

warfare, how much more difficult is the problem when one

attempts to solve it by peace time tests and experiments.

These have, of course, their value. They may, for example,

afford a fairly accurate comparison between two different

types of gun, or two different classes of fire control apparatus,

on the score of technical efficiency. They may, also, have some

tactical value, where the conditions of war may be closely simulated, or where the necessary differences between war and

peace may be approximately evaluated. But antiaircraft accuracy tests, which are conducted against targets proceeding on

a straight course at uniform speed and altitude, are worthless

as an index of tactical effectiveness. This is apparent from the

previous discussion, for a coefficient of error may be introduced from this cause, amounting, in theory at least, to more

than a million—obviously, not a very close approximation.

From the above discussion, it is obviously impossible to

say, with any approach to accuracy, that one airplane may be

destroyed, under average conditions, by a thousand shots, or

ten thousand shots, or any other definite number. It is equally

inexact to state that a certain number of batteries can insure

a positive defense of a locality against a certain number of air

squadrons. No rule of this nature can ever be more than a very

general index.

In considering the effectiveness of antiaircraft artillery,

entirely too much emphasis may easily be laid upon the destructive power of the weapon. This may easily lead to serious error.

In fact the antiaircraft doctrines of practically all nations agree
that the destruction of hostile aircraft is not the primary mission

of these arms. Their purpose is rather one of neutralization. They

aim to force aircraft to higher altitudes where their efficiency in

observation or in bombing will be materially reduced; to weaken

or destroy the integrity of formations, so that the scattered airplanes may fall an easier prey to their enemies; and finally, to

assist friendly aircraft by timely information and support. Of

course, in strict logic, the ability of antiaircraft guns to accomplish these aims, is in part a function of their potential destructive effect. But in practice, the proper criterion of the worth of

antiaircraft guns is the extent to which they accomplish their

stated missions, and not the number of hostile aircraft they

destroy. Their fire is, in effect, harassing rather than destructive.

But this is no sound reason for deeming them of small value.

Their utility does indeed bear the negative stamp that is characteristic of all agencies of purely passive defense: but they are

none the less a valuable adjunct. No general military organization can afford to dispense with them. Nevertheless, antiaircraft

guns, despite their great value, cannot, in any numbers which

are likely ever to be encountered in war, definitely stop a determined attack by aircraft. 

Location of antiaircraft guns. The tactical considerations

which govern the location of antiaircraft guns are derived from

the technical characteristics of this type of artillery, as well as

from the demands of the special situations. The guns are normally grouped in batteries of four each. Since they cannot fire

vertically, it is apparent that the guns must not only be placed

at a certain distance from the line or area they are to protect,

but must also themselves be protected by a neighboring battery, in order that hostile aircraft immediately overhead may

not attack the batteries with impunity. The minimum distance

is usually such that the battery may reach aircraft directly

over the point to be protected, even when the flyers are at their

approximate ceiling. In existing types of antiaircraft artillery,

the guns are usually placed on this account, at a distance of

at least 1,500 yards from the point. The maximum distance is

dependent, of course, on the range of the gun. It must not

exceed the range at high altitudes, and for present types, may

be taken as approximately 6,500 yards.
Subject to these technical limitations, the locations of the

batteries depend on the tactical situation. While, of necessity,

each situation must be dealt with according to its own peculiar

characteristics, nevertheless there are often many elements in

common in different situations. They may therefore be grouped,

for convenience of discussion, into three general categories. First

of all, may be considered the protection of columns of troops or

of transport, moving on the roads. Such columns are the natural targets of attack aviation. Since the antiaircraft gun is ill

suited to firing at low flying airplanes, this defense must depend

largely on the fire of small arms, which will be treated in a subsequent paragraph. However, it is always within the bounds of

possibility for attack aviation to remain above the effective range

of small arms, or else for bombardment aviation to be diverted

from its customary role to the attack of ground troops. It is therefore highly desirable to provide for the support of the column by

antiaircraft guns. Usually the batteries will be distributed along

the line of march at a distance of at least 1,500 yards from it and

separated from each other by a distance of from 1,500 to 6,500

yards. When the batteries are placed at the maximum distance

apart, a regiment (of three-gun batteries) in this way can bring

the fire of at least one battery to bear on an airplane flying over

a column 15 miles in length. By disregarding the need for mutual

support, this distance could be further increased, to about 22

miles. Of course, where the column is materially shorter than in

the above figures, it is possible to provide a greater volume of fire

over the column as a whole. As the column marches, the batteries are also displaced forward, the last one on the line of march

“leap frogging” through to the head of the column. In this way,

nearly continuous protection may be afforded.

A second class of situation is the defense of a line. This

method is particularly applicable to such situations as that of the

Western front in the World War. It may however be provided

whenever two forces are in contact, or when a large area must be

given an all-around defense. In this class of situations, the

defense consists in effect of two lines of batteries, roughly

parallel to the line to be protected. The distance between the latter and the nearer line of batteries is never less than 1,500 yards.

When counter-battery by hostile artillery is to be expected, this
distance is increased to at least 2,000 yards, and may, when the

attitude of the army as a whole is defensive in character, be further increased to 5,000 yards. The two lines of batteries are usually from 2,000 yards to 5,000 yards apart. These figures are

based, of course, upon the technical characteristics of present

armaments. Increased technical characteristics will tend to

enlarge these distances, without however altering the character

of the dispositions. In the defense of a line, the gun batteries of

a regiment of antiaircraft artillery are usually placed at the three

apices of a triangle, whose sides vary from 4,000 to 6,500 yards

in length. One regiment will have two batteries in the first line

and one in the second; the next regiment will reverse the order,

having only one battery in the front line; and so on, by alternate

regiments. By this arrangement, a fairly deep band is provided,

over which hostile aircraft must pass in order to attain their

objectives. Unfortunately, this method of defense requires a large

number of guns. There must be one battery for approximately

every two miles of front. When areas of large extent—such, for

example, as the concentration area of an army—must be protected by such an arrangement of guns about its perimeter, the

cost may well prove prohibitive.

A third class of situations is that which calls for the defense

of an area of small extent. These areas, as a rule, are well to the

rear of the combat zone, and contain such supply establishments as depots or railheads. They are far removed from any

danger of counter-battery fire by hostile artillery, and have to

contend in general, only with bombing airplanes. The disposition

of the batteries is essentially the same as that described above:

they must be so located as to give each other mutual support,

and must, of course, be able to place their fire over the point to

be protected. Some consideration must be given to the probable

lines of approach of the hostile bombers, but this fact must not

be unduly stressed: by day, bombers may approach with equal

ease from almost any direction; by night landmarks such as

streams or rivers may exercise an important influence, but it

cannot ever be safely assumed that these aids to navigation positively preclude any other line of approach.

The general location of antiaircraft batteries is determined

in accordance with the principles described above. Within the
limits prescribed, the exact emplacement is determined chiefly

from the character of the terrain. There must, first of all, be a

good field of fire for the guns. Antiaircraft guns, unlike artillery

in general, cannot employ indirect firing: it is essential that

the gunners at the piece be able to see and follow their target.

Accordingly high ground, which is usually eschewed by other

kinds of artillery from motives of security, is sought after as

emplacements for antiaircraft artillery. It is desirable also that

the emplacement be free from surrounding obstacles, so that

a view may be obtained from just above the horizon. Within

range of hostile artillery, concealment is important: full advantage is taken of natural cover, which is perfected by the arts of

camouflage. It is however quite impossible to conceal the guns

when in action, from airplane observation, and no effort is

made to do so. Communications are essential, and the location of the emplacements must facilitate their establishment.

As antiaircraft guns are motorized, the emplacements must be

convenient to the road net.

Antiaircraft machine guns. The antiaircraft machine gun

differs very little in general characteristics from the machine

gun used in infantry combat, and is in fact an adaptation of

the latter. For antiaircraft purposes, the machine gun must be

capable of being rapidly aimed and fired at all elevations, and

must be readily traversed. It is generally mounted on a tripod,

and provided with special sights to assist the gunner in estimating deflection, similar in principle to the airplane sights

described in a previous chapter. As in the case of the airplane,

ammunition may be either the ordinary service cartridge or

else consist in part of armor piercing or of tracer bullets. As

the latter are visible even in daylight to a distance of several

hundred feet, they form a valuable adjunct to the sights.

Antiaircraft machine guns are of two sizes, the .30 calibre

and the .50 calibre. The latter weapon in particularly useful

against airplanes carrying light armor. Furthermore, it has

both a horizontal and a vertical range nearly three times that

of the .30 calibre gun, and is accordingly useful in some situations where the latter would not be. The rates of fire of the

two types of gun do not differ greatly. On account of these

advantages there is a tendency to replace the .30 calibre with
the .50 calibre gun in all units whose missions are specifically

antiaircraft in nature. It is easy, however, to overrate the

advantages of the larger calibre. Aircraft, as a rule, operate

either at altitudes well beyond the effective range of both calibres, or else at such low altitudes that either gun may easily

reach them. On this account, in the great majority of cases,

the added range is not an important asset.

Moreover, the vulnerability of the airplane to fire from the

larger gun is not materially greater. There is, too, an excellent

reason for retaining the .30 calibre gun for troops in general,

even against aircraft. To an ever increasing extent, infantry and

cavalry must be prepared to resist with their own weapons,

assaults by hostile aviation. It is obviously desirable that ground

troops be able to use the same weapon in all combat, whether

the enemy come from the air or from the surface of the earth.

This will tend to favor the retention of the smaller weapon for

antiaircraft purposes, so long as it remains the calibre in general

use. In the case of artillery however, its machine guns are

employed almost solely against aircraft; only in grave emergencies would it be necessary to use them against ground troops; on

this account, purely air considerations may be allowed to govern,

and the larger calibre may well be employed. Both calibres of

machine guns are transported on trucks.

In addition to these weapons there is being developed a 37

millimeter antiaircraft gun, similar in many respects to the

German “flaming onions” of unhappy memory. This gun is, in

most respects, a mean between the machine gun and the antiaircraft gun proper, having both a range and a rate of fire

between the two. It fires a high explosive shell. Whether the

weapon will find general tactical application or will be confined

to such missions as the protection of balloons, is a question

which must be left for the future to decide.

Missions of antiaircraft machine guns. The antiaircraft

machine gun exists primarily for defense against attack aviation. Its practical rôle, therefore, depends necessarily on the

methods and practices of this branch of the air force. When

compared with its natural enemy, the antiaircraft machine

gun does not labor under as great disadvantages as the antiaircraft gun. It is true that the low-flying airplane offers a very
difficult target; its angular velocity is high, and the ground

gunner must traverse his gun with great rapidity. But the

range is short, and the movement of the airplane during the

time of flight of the bullet is correspondingly restricted. Moreover, in so far as accuracy of fire is concerned, it is obvious

that the rapidity of motion of the airplane operates in equal

measure to disturb the aim of the air gunner. The latter, of

course, has certain advantages. Being the attacker, he has the

initiative; he will, therefore, always try to effect surprise, and

to retain for himself the most favorable conditions from the

point of view of gunnery, while denying these to his enemy

below. For example, the airplane might dive in on the ground

gunner from the direction of the sun, where it would offer a

nearly invisible target. On the other hand, concealment often

operates to the advantage of the antiaircraft machine gunner.

The airman may be able to approach unseen, “hedge hopping”

and taking advantage of all available cover, but often too, the

ground gunner will be able to remain undiscovered until such

time as he opens fire. After balancing the conflicting considerations, it is not matter for surprise to discover that the airman

has a respect for ground machine gun and rifle fire that he

does not always give to the other antiaircraft weapons.

In a previous chapter the methods of attack aviation were

discussed in detail. Briefly to summarize the conclusions there

drawn, the natural targets of attack aviation are found where

troops must move in the open, and in formed bodies. The column is particularly vulnerable, and all ployed masses—such

as are found in assembly and in bivouac areas—fall into much

the same category. Another rôle of attack aviation is the support of friendly bombardment aviation, by neutralizing the

antiaircraft defense; in effect, this may be called an air

counter-battery mission. These positive aims of the offensive

necessarily define the negative aims of the defensive: the rôle

of antiaircraft machine guns is therefore to prevent attack aviation from accomplishing the purposes described.

The defense of columns against attack aviation. The

significance of movements by columns in mobile warfare, has

been mentioned before, but it needs to be emphasized. In

these movements the time factor is all important: the success
of any coordinated effort depends in large measure on the

accuracy with which the times have been calculated, and the

closeness with which they are adhered to in the execution of

the plan. It is in this respect that the interference of attack aviation may upset the best devised schemes. Accordingly the

defense of columns constitutes one of the most important of

antiaircraft measures.

This duty cannot be entrusted solely to antiaircraft

machine guns. It demands the utilization of all practicable

means and methods. Foremost among these is movement by

night. It may be accepted as a principle that troop movements

within striking distance of hostile aircraft must be executed

under cover of darkness, unless pressing reasons exist for

daylight operations. The time has passed when infantry can

march down the road in closed columns of squads in broad

daylight, unless it is willing to sustain heavy losses in doing

so. There is, in reality, nothing new or unproven in this fact.

The development of rapid fire weapons has long since compelled infantry to develop its main columns into smaller and

less vulnerable ones, as it comes within range of hostile

artillery, and to deploy into thin lines as it reaches the zone of

hostile machine gun fire. The advent of the airplane has

merely extended widely the limits of the area in which these

measures of defense must be taken.

When movements by daylight must be made, two steps are

taken by the column itself for defense against attack aviation:

elongation of the column, and provision for the rapid development of fire by infantry weapons. Men will march either in

columns of files or in columns of twos on both sides of the road.

Advantage will be taken of all cover, particularly of trees, which

often will hide the column from air observation. In case of attack

from the air, dismounted men seek protection against fragmentation bombs by remaining prone, preferably in the ditches.

Often they will leave the road altogether, marching across country, where all the protection afforded by the accidents of the terrain may be utilized. Vehicles of all kinds are not, however, so fortunately situated, and are, therefore, the more vulnerable. They

are, as a rule, confined to the roads, and cannot readily escape

or take cover. They will however, be distributed at fairly great dis-
tances apart in the column, in order to localize losses, and to

prevent traffic congestion if a single vehicle should be injured

near the head of the column.

The second defensive measure, the rapid development of

antiaircraft fire by infantry weapons, necessitates first of all an

adequate alarm system, by which the column will be notified

immediately of the approach of hostile airplanes. To distinguish

hostile from friendly aircraft is not always an easy matter. It is

true that the airplanes of every nation bear a characteristic

insignia of some kind; but these are difficult to distinguish at a

distance, or when the lighting effect is bad. Greater reliance can

usually be placed upon recognizing the peculiarities of the silhouette of the airplane. This, however, demands familiarity with

many types of aircraft, and necessitates the training of a certain

proportion of infantrymen in the quick recognition of these characteristics. Friendly aircraft will, of course, assist these measures by remaining at a distance from the column, unless compelled to come near it, in which case a prearranged signal may

prove desirable. This measure is worth paying careful attention

to, for in the World War many flyers had the disconcerting experience of being fired upon by their own troops. Too often the latter, unable to distinguish between friend and foe, adopted the

simple expedient of firing indiscriminately upon all. When the

lookouts designated by the column, perceive hostile airplanes,

the alarm is instantly sounded by bugle, whistle, or some other

equally rapid means.

On every march, a certain portion of every rifle organization

is designated for antiaircraft defense. In some cases, the entire

organization may be held on alert for this purpose. These men

are prepared at all times to open fire on aircraft within a few

moments of the sounding of the alarm. Individual fire by riflemen

is by no means to be despised as an antiaircraft measure; furthermore it prevents demoralization among the riflemen, by

removing the discouraging sense of utter helplessness in the face

of a threatening danger. The backbone of the defense however

should consist of machine guns. These are of two kinds: the

weapons of the regiments of antiaircraft artillery (which include

in each regiment not only the three-gun batteries previously

described, but also three batteries of machine guns), and the
infantry machine guns. These are designed primarily for use

against hostile infantry, and are not readily adaptable to antiaircraft purposes at present; however, future design will undoubtedly adapt them to both purposes. The methods of employing the

two weapons show no substantial differences. They may be

mounted on vehicles and move forward with the column, or be

emplaced near the line of march, advancing by bounds in much

the same manner as the antiaircraft guns.

The antiaircraft defense of columns of cavalry is unusually

difficult. Rifle fire may be employed, in the manner outlined

above for infantry. But this method necessitates dismounting,

and often time does not allow this. Motorized machine guns

seem to offer the best solution. But cavalry is highly vulnerable in any case to the attacks of low flying aircraft, and must

on that account, utilize all its natural characteristics to avoid

such attacks. By moving in small bodies and by taking advantage of its mobility, it can often succeed in giving no opportunities to the hostile attack squadrons. The advance of a body

of cavalry will consist of a series of bounds, from one locality

offering good cover against air attack, to the next, usually at

the trot or at the gallop.

Defense of antiaircraft guns against attack aviation.

Antiaircraft guns are especially vulnerable in two respects:

they cannot fire vertically, and they cannot fire successfully at

low flying airplanes. The former defect is compensated for by

grouping batteries for mutual support, in the manner previously described. The latter disadvantage is overcome by the

support of antiaircraft machine guns. Ordinarily a platoon of

machine guns is emplaced near each gun battery to protect it

against attack by counter-battery airplanes.

Defense of a line by antiaircraft machine guns. The defense

of a line by antiaircraft machine guns is essentially the same in

principle and in general dispositions, as that previously

described for antiaircraft guns. The distances, of course, are not

the same, due to the differences in range of the two weapons: the

distance of the nearer line of machine guns, for example, from

the line to be protected varies from 800 to 1,700 yards. The

defense usually consists of two lines of machine guns, arranged

in the same manner as described for the guns, except that the
triangles are smaller. In exceptional cases, the number of lines

may be decreased to one, on a broad front; or they may be

increased to three, where the zone of action is narrow.

It may however be doubted that this scheme of defense will

find frequent application in future warfare. It is essentially an

outgrowth of the World War, peculiar to that contest, and of

doubtful value even in situations of that kind. Troops in trenches

in stabilized situations have little to fear from attack aviation,

and therefore have little need for a strong antiaircraft machine

gun defense. It is true that airmen in the World War often

“strafed” the trenches; but this can scarcely be regarded as more

than a gesture, meaningless in its military effect. Even in mobile

warfare, attack aviation will not ordinarily concern itself with the

thinly deployed lines of the assault units. It is in rear of all this,

among the supports and reserves, that attack aviation will reap

its harvest. It is therefore in these places that machine gun

defenses must be installed. Moreover a linear defense by

machine guns cannot protect an area in the same manner as

that prescribed for guns. The latter can reach to the highest altitudes; the former cannot. Attack aviation will naturally adjust its

activities to these conditions: it will fly well above such lines of

machine guns, then dive down to the attack of its chosen objective. Machine guns must therefore be sited to fire on points or on

definite and restricted areas.

Defense of areas by antiaircraft machine guns. It is

essential that all areas where formed bodies of troops assemble, whether for bivouac or in preparation for an attack, be

well protected by antiaircraft machine guns. There are also, as

a rule, certain sensitive points, such as telephone centrals,

balloons, command posts, bridges, and railheads, which must

also be protected by machine guns. In general however, rear

area establishments such as those enumerated, are vulnerable in high degree only to the heavier assaults of bombardment aviation, and need not concern themselves unduly with

the lighter attacks.

The locations of antiaircraft machine guns follow the principles already outlined. They must be in close proximity to the

area to be defended; also they are placed along the most probable routes of approach of hostile aircraft, where such exist.

226
Antiaircraft accessories. It is not practicable within the

limits of this chapter to describe in detail the numerous

devices employed in fire control by antiaircraft artillery. Two of

these aids however are particularly important in their influence, both on antiaircraft fire and on the tactical methods of

the air force. These consists of listening apparatus and of

searchlights, which will be briefly described.

Listening apparatus. In a previous chapter it was noted

that the presence of an airplane, even in daylight, is almost

invariably first detected by sound; at night, of course, reliance

is placed almost solely on this sense. To enable the listener to

determine the direction of the sound with accuracy, instruments called listening apparatus have been devised. These are

of two general types. The paraboloid listening apparatus consists of a parabolic sound reflector, which can be readily

moved both in elevation and in azimuth. The sound waves

from the motor of the airplane are reflected to a focus, where

listening trumpets are placed. By means of these the direction

of the loudest sound can be readily determined. This is of

course the direction of the airplane, and after correction the

data obtained in this way can be set off on the searchlights. A

second type of apparatus consists of a group of megaphones,

the apices of which are connected to the ears of the listener by

rubber tubes. The latter type is somewhat more accurate, but

is also more bulky and less mobile.

While, in general, the listening apparatus is effective in

locating airplanes, there is always a chance that a ruse may

destroy their value. Often the night bomber, having located his

target from a fairly high altitude, cuts off his motor, and glides

in to discharge his projectiles. In such a case, it is very difficult to locate the almost silent attacker. Then too, there is the

possibility of the development of a suitable muffler. This has

not yet been shown to be worth while. It reduces the power of

the motor, which is of course particularly undesirable. Furthermore, it is claimed that the noise of a rapidly revolving

propeller is almost as easily heard as that of the motor itself.

However this may prove to be a factor with which the antiaircraft defense must reckon at some future date.

227
The most common mission of the listening apparatus is to

give the direction of the hostile airplane to the pilot light of a

searchlight unit, so that it may be turned in the proper direction before being flashed. Sometimes, also, the data obtained

from the listening apparatus may be employed for firing by

sound. The location of the listening apparatus is governed

largely by its former mission. It is placed near the pilot light

and preferably in a quiet spot.

Searchlights. From the tactical point of view, the searchlight is of great importance: but for it, the defenses at night

would be almost useless. The light in common use is the 60-

inch size, which can project a beam of great illuminating

power to a distance of 5,000 feet. However, in practice, it is

rare indeed that an airplane can be picked up at that altitude.

Its truly effective range is much below that figure. The light is

carried on a truck, whose motor also furnishes the power for

running the electric generator.

The location of the lights depends on the mission assigned

them. If they are to assist the antiaircraft guns, they are usually

placed at the four corners of an approximate square, whose center is the battery emplacement, and whose sides vary in length

from 2,000 to 3,000 yards. This distribution is not however followed with such rigidity as to permit the accurate location of the

battery from the visible lights. On account of the impossibility of

concealing searchlights at night, they are kept at a distance from

other locations of tactical importance. When searchlights are to

assist aircraft, an effort is made to establish one or more belts of

continuous illumination about the area to be defended. When

this is impracticable, the lights are concentrated along the most

probable avenues of approach.

Defensive balloon barrages.1 At various times and places,

efforts have been made to protect areas of great importance by

balloon aprons, or barrages. These consist in effect of a netting of wire cables, surrounding the area to be protected, and

supported by captive balloons. Barrage balloons are in ascen228

1“Free and Captive Balloons,” a volume of the Ronald Aeronautic Library, contains

a section about barrage balloons.
sion only at night. The cables are heavy enough to wreck any

airplane colliding with them, and at night, they are invisible

from an airplane.

This method of defense is an excellent one, in very special

cases, for very limited areas. It is doubtful however if it will

ever find wide enough application to warrant its general adoption as an important means of antiaircraft defense. It is limited to rather low altitudes, as aircraft fly: accordingly aircraft,

when aware of its existence, are merely forced up a few thousand feet, with some slight loss perhaps in accuracy. The balloon barrage is very cumbersome, and also expensive. It will

certainly exercise a strong deterrent influence on low flying

wherever its existence is suspected. According to British belief,

its moral effect on the German raiders over London was well

worth the cost of the barrage. But as the sole antiaircraft

defense, it may be dismissed from further consideration.

The air force and antiaircraft defense. As stated in the

beginning of this chapter, it is intended confining this discussion to the passive means of antiaircraft defense. This intention will not be departed from, but it must be recalled that the

agencies of passive defense have both an independent rôle and

also a subordinate one of assisting the friendly air force in its

more aggressive functions. The discussion hitherto has been

confined largely to the former class of duties. But it may be

questioned whether the greater value of the antiaircraft

defenses proper, does not proceed from the aid they are capable of rendering to the air force. This view is certainly held in

many quarters, and several nations have assigned their antiaircraft artillery as an organic part of their offensive aviation.

Whether views may be held on this subject, there is no disputing the necessity of the most intimate cooperation between

the two agencies. Certain aspects of their relationship will be

briefly considered.

The service of antiaircraft information. Perhaps the most

important source of information in regard to ground troops is

the airman; it is in some sort a compensation that the service

of antiaircraft information depends for its effectiveness primarily on ground establishments. By means of listening apparatus and other agencies, antiaircraft artillery keeps a very com229
plete record of all hostile air activity coming within range of its

vision. In certain cases, where previous arrangements for

offensive action have been made, the presence of hostile aircraft is immediately made known to the friendly pursuit force,

which bases its further action on the information as to the

strength and location of the enemy given by the antiaircraft

service. From time to time, as the situation warrants, the latter also makes a résumé of enemy activity. By carefully studying this the air force commander is often enabled to obtain a

fairly complete picture of the hostile situation, and even to

deduce the hostile intentions. While of course, the air commander avails himself of all possible sources of information—

reports of his own airmen, photographs of hostile airdromes,

interrogation of prisoners, etc.—nevertheless the bulk of his

information is derived from the reports of the antiaircraft

artillery units.

Support of friendly aviation. Upon the approach of hostile

airplanes, antiaircraft units not only fire upon them but also

signal any friendly aircraft in the air at the time. This is done

either to warn them of danger, or to enable them to attack the

enemy, as the case may be. By properly placed shells, according to a pre-arranged code, information can be given which

might otherwise escape the notice of friendly aviation. Antiaircraft units continue their fire on the enemy, until the

approach of friendly aircraft into the danger zone causes them

to cease fire.

At night, so long as existing conditions hold, pursuit aviation is entirely dependent on antiaircraft units for its effectiveness. The usual procedure is for friendly pursuit aviation

either to remain at its airdromes on the alert, or else to patrol

a definite air space. When warned of the hostile approach,

pursuit aviation flies to the general vicinity of the enemy, as

indicated by the searchlights. The success of the attack then

depends almost entirely on the latter. If they can catch the

hostile airplane in the beam, and hold him there long enough

for the pursuit pilot to dive in with a good burst of fire, there

is an excellent chance of scoring a victory. If however, the

searchlights are unable to find the enemy, or if he succeeds in

230
maneuvering out of the beam immediately, there is little likelihood of successful action by defending pursuit aviation.

Defense of airdromes. The infrequency of determined

attacks on hostile airdromes in the World War has been mentioned before. This is the more noticeable, when it is appreciated how helpless aircraft may become under certain unfavorable circumstances. Probably every pursuit pilot has dreamed

at some time of “roosting” just above a hostile airdrome, and

spraying pilots and mechanics with bullets every time they

attempt to run out a machine for the take-off. The possibility

of some such action as this emphasizes the necessity of providing every airdrome with a strong machine gun defense. Of

course, antiaircraft guns and their accessories are desirable,

but it is especially necessary to insure that hostile attack or

pursuit aviation, in attempting an assault on an airdrome, will

meet with a formidable defensive fire.

231
232

CHAPTER IX

NOTES ON AIR LOGISTICS

Lessons of the World War. Logistics is defined as that

branch of the military art that embraces the details of transport

and of supply. It is apparent from the definition itself that the

word covers a wide field of activity, and that many volumes might

be written about logistics without exhausting the subject. As

may be seen from this title of this chapter, any attempt to cover

the subject in an adequate manner is expressly disclaimed. It is

intended here only to note in a very general way certain phases

of the subject that have a direct bearing on tactics.

In all matters pertaining to air warfare we are influenced

with peculiar strength by our heritage from the World War. The

necessity of subjecting all our methods in that contest to a

critical examination, with a view to determining their suitability for future use, has already been explained. In the case of

logistics, this is particularly necessary. In France we fought in

a limited area; the whole theatre of operations was only a few

hundred miles in length. From a centrally located airdrome it

would have been entirely feasible for a bombing airplane to fly

to either the northern or the southern flank of the front lines,

and to return to its home base without refueling. If our next

contest should take place in a theatre of markedly greater

extent, the logistical methods current in the World War will

have to undergo considerable modification. Another distinguishing feature of that contest was the fact that stabilization

ruled, almost to the exclusion of mobility; and this was

reflected in logistics to an even greater extent than in tactics.

In warfare of movement—which we conceive to be “normal

warfare, and which we anticipate as the probable warfare of

the future—the methods of the World War will certainly not

apply fully.

The airdrome. The typical airdrome of the World War

had an unmistakable air of permanence. It required much
time to construct, and once established, was used for

months and even years. Under these circumstances, airdromes were naturally complete in almost every respect;

they left little to be desired on the score of either utility or of

comfort. This was of course altogether admirable; but it

unquestionably led to the formulation of a standard that

was dangerously high. Men became accustomed to luxuries,

and soon came to regard them as necessities. There was a

general feeling that hangars and houses were as necessary

as airplanes. Few men attempt to distinguish between what

is absolutely essential, and what is only desirable. It is not

meant by these statements to stamp as unworthy the efforts

on the part of air commanders to provide their men and

their machines with protection against the elements, and to

give the former every reasonable care and comfort. On the

contrary, there is no more certain mark of the amateur in

war than a failure to do those very things. Only the inexperienced permit their men to endure unnecessary hardships.

The veteran contrives somehow to extract the greatest possible measure of comfort from every situation.

Nevertheless, there was a decided tendency in the World

War to demand too much in the way of airdrome facilities. This

sometimes had unfortunate results. For example, on one or

two occasions a rapid movement of the lines left certain airdromes too far in rear to serve as operating bases. As airdromes of the desired standard were not immediately available, the practical consequence was that the air organizations,

for a time, were put completely out of action. Undoubtedly

such incidents would rarely or never have happened if the

World War had ever become truly mobile, and the methods

employed in air movements had been modified to meet these

conditions. But such was not the case; incidents like those

described were not common enough to become a serious matter, and accordingly no great effort was made to change the

system. But it is evident that provisions for future warfare

must visualize more frequent movements of airdromes. They

will not, of course, have to be changed with every advance of

the infantry; probably airdromes will have to be moved forward only once for every three or four forward displacements
of the artillery, for example. But there must be far greater

mobility in this respect than was demanded in the World War.

This may necessitate a decided lowering of standards for service airdromes. For example, protection of the airplane against

weather may have to be dispensed with; but with cockpit and

engine covers, and with means to stake down the machine,

this is not a serious defect; moreover, hangars make it quite

impossible to conceal the nature of the airdrome. In fact in

mobile warfare of the future, air units may consider themselves fortunate if the personnel obtains better shelter than

that afforded by canvas.

There is some reason to believe also, that if the personnel

situation were studied with a view to greater mobility, it would

be found that the number of men formerly considered necessary for a service squadron in the field, could be sensibly

reduced without depriving units of their really necessary numbers. Obviously such a reduction would simplify both supply

and transportation.

Personnel in movements of air units. If we accept as an

invariable rule that air squadrons cannot operate unless provided with approximately their full quota of men, as laid down

in tables of organization, then it follows that the mobility of the

air force, outside of the restricted area of the cruising radius

of the airplane, is no greater than that of foot troops. For

example, if we should wish to move an air division of three

brigades a distance of 1,000 miles, all the airplanes of the division could be moved in a single day, under exceptionally favorable circumstances. If the order for such a movement were

issued one night, the next night would see the airplanes of the

division at their new destination, barring of course the small

percentage of those having forced landings. At that time however, the enlisted men of the squadrons, only a small proportion of whom could be taken by airplane, could just be boarding the troop trains to take them to their new station. Even if

a large number of trunk lines connected the two places, and

the most favorable conditions existed, the full strength of the

squadrons would not be available at the new airdrome for

more than four days after the issuance of the orders. The
movement would be completed in exactly the same length of

time as though they were foot troops.

This seems, on the face of it, to be imposing an unnatural

restriction on the mobility of air units. It is certainly illogical

to have enormous speed of movement just up to a certain distance, and then to be reduced to the mobility of the least

mobile of combatant arms. And in fact, this is not a natural

restriction, imposed by inherent limitations. It results simply

from the fact that the problem has never presented itself in

war, and accordingly has not been solved. But experience and

common sense alike show that air movements are restricted in

fact only by air conditions, and not by railroad schedules. A

possible solution of the difficulty is furnished by the common

peace time practices of cross-country flying. While the majority of such flights are from one operating airdrome to another,

nevertheless numerous flights are made to landing fields

where none of the facilities of the airdrome exist. The pilot and

the observer must perforce be their own mechanics; but experience shows that they can operate for days in this manner,

with some slight assistance from outsiders. Where several airplanes are together, the difficulties of the situation are all the

more easily overcome. Of course, if the airplane meets with a

somewhat serious accident, the pilot is helpless to remedy the

matter until assistance arrives from the airdrome. But with

skillful pilotage, these mishaps are infrequent, and a large

number of airplanes could make such a movement as that

described above with only a very small percentage of casualties from this cause.

If considerations of supply be excluded, there is no good

reason why a large number of airplanes cannot accomplish

with equal ease, what a few have shown to be entirely practicable. It is well within the bounds of the reasonable, to expect

an air division to effect a distant move, and to operate for several days thereafter, without a single mechanic. Of course,

under these conditions, there undoubtedly would be a larger

percentage of airplanes out of commission, than would be the

case if all the facilities of the organization were on the landing

field. But the losses from this cause would be only temporary,
and would never be large enough to exercise a determining

influence on the tactical situation.

Fortunately, in the general case, it is unnecessary for the

air units to operate under conditions quite as severe as

those described above. It is always practicable to take along

a certain number of mechanics by air. While attack, pursuit,

and observation aviation have no extra room for mechanics,

there are squadrons of transport airplanes assigned to the

larger units of the air force. These airplanes can each carry

eight men in addition to the pilot. Bombing units are also

provided with transport airplanes, and in addition can carry

a certain number of extra men in the bombing airplanes

themselves. If the airship ever be properly developed, the

utilization of these promises a ready solution of the problem. It is true that airships are never assigned as an organic

part of heavier-than-air units, but they would unquestionably be attached, when available, to facilitate air movements.

Of course, even with the facilities enumerated above, all of

the men of a large air unit cannot be transported by air in one

move. Many of them would have to go by rail or by motor

transport. But by carefully selecting the key men in the organization, it could operate for days and even weeks, with only a

small loss in efficiency.

Supply of air units during movements. In general,

each airdrome is occupied by a group. In regulating movements by air, where the distances are such that intermediate landings for refueling are necessary, every effort is made

to allot one intermediate landing field to each group. This is

very generally practicable in America today, and will become

easier to assure with the passage of time, and the consequent increase of air transportation. Air movements therefore consist as a rule, of simultaneous flights by groups,

each along its own designated airway. The problem of supply therefore becomes a group matter. Rationing cannot follow the usual procedure, since the transportation of cooking

facilities is impracticable. It is, of course, always possible to

carry cooked rations for the flight. In general however, local

purchases can be depended upon for the supply of rations.
As the number of flying men in a group will average about

150, this will rarely put a strain on local resources. In

exceptional cases, special provision must be made for the

transportation of rations by air. One transport airplane in

each group will generally suffice for this purpose.

The supply of fuel may offer more difficulty, and may

require special preliminary arrangements by the military

authorities. Usually however, local resources can provide for

the needs of the group. For example, a group of four observation squadrons will need approximately 4,000 gallons of

gasoline at each refueling. Airdromes however are invariably

near towns or villages, and in the United Sates, this amount

of gasoline can be obtained in even the smaller places,

either immediately or upon a few hours’ notice. It is true

that high-test gasoline of the grade used for airplane motors

cannot be widely obtained in large quantities; where time

permits, preliminary arrangements should be made to

obtain this. But, in emergencies, the ordinary commercial

gasoline may be used. Much the same general remarks

apply to the supply of oil.

Certain common minor injuries to the airplane may be

readily repaired on the spot, provided spare parts be available.

In movements of this character, a small store of spare parts

may be carried by airplane.

Regulating the movement. Intermediate landing fields are

chosen at such distances that the airplanes can make the

flight within their fuel capacities, with a reasonable factor of

safety for head winds and slight deviations from the course.

The time required for the completion of an air movement

where intermediate landings are necessary, will be greatly

influenced by the fueling facilities at the designated landing

fields. The quickest method of refueling a small number of airplanes is the use of special gasoline trucks, which can run

alongside the airplane and pump gasoline into it. But there

will rarely be a large number of these available. For units the

size of a group, probably the quickest method is to refuel from

5 to 10 gallon tins. This enables all the airplanes to be refueled simultaneously.
The manner of conducting the flight is determined

largely by the nature of the intermediate landing fields. If

the latter are spacious, the group proceeds as a whole. If on

the other hand only a few airplanes can be accommodated

at a time, the movement must be made by flights, time being

allowed for each flight to clear before the next attempts to

land. The latter procedure requires, of course, a much

greater period of time.

To illustrate by an example, let us assume a group movement of 100 pursuit airplanes, to a new airdrome 1,000

miles away. The cruising speed of the airplane is assumed to

be 140 miles an hour, and its fuel capacity at this speed to

be 31

⁄4 hours. Two immediate landing fields are necessary,

which will be designated as B and C, the initial airdrome

being called A, and the destination, D. If B and C are spacious airdromes, suitable for group operations, the following

approximate schedule may be followed. It is assumed that

the distances between airdromes are the same, and the

movement takes place in summer. Daylight lasts from

5:00A.M. to 8:00 P.M.

Unit Date Take-off Arrives Take-off Arrives Take-off Arrives

at A over B at B over C at C over D

1st Group...... D day 5:00 A.M. 7:23 A.M. 9:53 A.M. 12:16 P.M. 2:46 P.M. 5:09 P.M.

The above figures are based upon speed in still air. If there

were a following wind, the times would of course be reduced.

On the other hand, if there should be a head wind of 40 miles

an hour, a third intermediate landing field would be necessary

and the movement would require two days, if flying were

restricted to daylight. Let us now compare this schedule with

the one below, which is based upon the assumption that B

and C are small landing fields with poor facilities, where not to

exceed one flight at a time may land and refuel.
In the above table, it is assumed that only one flight at a

time may be refueled at B and C, but that nevertheless two

flights at a time may be accommodated for the night, by moving part of the machines off the landing field.

Of course such schedules as the first one would not be

attempted unless there were especial reasons for urgency.

Even with the fast pursuit airplane, it requires over seven

hours of almost continuous flying to cover this distance in a

day. With the slower types, this time would be much

increased. Flights of this duration subject the personnel to

great fatigue; they should therefore be avoided, much as one

would avoid requiring a forced march of infantry. It is of

course also practicable to conduct air movements at night; but

this too introduces an extra hazard, which is justified only by

an emergency.

Unit Date Take-off Take-off Take-off Arrives Remarks

at A at B at C over D

1st “A” “D” 5:00 A.M. 9:33 A.M. 2:06 P.M. 4:29 P.M.

“B” day 7:12 11:45 4:18 6:41

“C” 9:24 1:57 P.M. -- --

2d “A” 11:36 4:09 - - - -

Serv. “A” 1:48 P.M. -- -- --

“B” 4:00 - - - - - -

1st “C” “D - - - - 5:00 A.M. 7:23 A.M.

2d “A” plus - - - - 5:10 7:33

Serv. “A” 1” day - - 5:00 A.M. 9:33 11:56

“B” - - 7:12 11:45 2:08 P.M.

2d “B” 5:00 A.M. 9:33 2:06 P.M. 4:29

“C” 7:12 11:45 4:18 6:41

3d “A” 9:24 1:57 P.M. -- --

“B” 11:36 4:09 - - - -

“C” 1:48 P.M. -- -- --

4th “A” 4:00 - - - - - -

3d “A” “D - - - - 5:00 A.M. 7:23 A.M.

“B” plus - - - - 5:10 7:33

“C” 2” day - - 5:00 A.M. 9:33 11:56

4th “A” - - 7:12 11:45 2:08 P.M.

“B” 5:00 A.M. 9:33 2:06 P.M. 4:29

“C” 7:12 11:45 4:18 6:41

Sq. Fl.

Refuels and spends

night at C

Refuels and spends

night at B

Refuels and spends

night at C

Refuels and spends

night at B

}

}

}

}
Normal supply methods. As the general scheme of supply

of the World War is studied, it appears at once that the problem of changing such a plan from the supply of one front to

that of another front a thousand miles away, cannot be solved

in a few moments. Of course the needs of an air unit, even if

it be a division, are small compared with the gigantic consumption of men and material on the Western Front. Nevertheless the problem of supplying air units must be carefully

studied and worked out beforehand, or the mobility of the air

force may be greatly restricted through failure of the supply

system to function. It is highly desirable that base depots, containing reserves of all kinds of supplies needed by air units, be

located so that they may readily be reached from any theater

that is at all likely to be the scene of future air operations.

Even with the most carefully planned arrangements however,

distant movements will generally cause a dislocation of the

supply system for a time. Several days may elapse before a

normal flow of supplies can be established to the new front, if

the usual methods of transport are utilized. On this account,

it seems to be particularly necessary to study the question of

transportation by airship. As a basis of organization, there

should be constructed, for every air division contemplated,

enough airships to transport the essentials for operations,

during the time the usual methods will probably be inadequate. Such a reserve of airships would also be of great value

where roads and railroads were lacking, or had been temporarily interrupted for any reason.
241

Chapter X

NAVAL AVIATION

Terminology. A science so new as that of aviation necessarily produces a host of new technical terms, which sometimes greatly confuse the nonprofessional reader. This is

unfortunate, but is unavoidable unless brevity is to be wholly

sacrificed. But the reader is indeed in a sad plight, who

encounters two different sets of technical terms, existing side

by side, and applying to the same science. When, to add to

this, the same words occur in the different vocabularies with

entirely different meanings, confusion becomes worse confounded. To some extent, this is now the case in the technical

terms used by the air forces of our Army and of our Navy.

Many words have the same significance in both arms of our

national defense. But many others, among which may be mentioned such common words as flight and division, mean wholly

different things in the two services. The preceding chapters of

this volume have adhered to the words and phrases current in

the air force of the army. To avoid burdening the reader with

an unnecessary hardship, it is purposed continuing the use of

this terminology, even in a discussion of naval aviation. Of

course this rule can be followed only where there is a correct

word available. Where any term is peculiar to naval aviation,

and has no counterpart in the sister air force, recourse must

be had to the expression employed in the navy.

Points in common with army air forces. The mere fact

that it is possible to adopt the procedure described above suggests at once that the air forces of the army and of the navy

have many things in common. While a superficial examination

shows remarkably few dissimilarities between the two, a more

thorough study, far from changing this view, tends rather to

confirm it. It is impossible, in the space of this chapter, to enumerate the countless points of similarity. But a few of the more

notable examples may be cited to show the general character
of these common possessions. It is obvious on the face of it

that such characteristics as speed, useful load, and rate of

climb, have precisely the same significance and are governed,

in their mutual relationships, by the same laws, whether the

aircraft belong to land or to naval aviation.

Going from the technical to the tactical field, let us assume

that a commander of a force of pursuit aviation is about to join

battle with the enemy. Many considerations enter into his plan

of action; but an analysis of numerous typical situations shows

that his decision is usually based upon purely aeronautical

grounds. He is concerned in the solution of the problem immediately at hand, and cares very little, until the fight is finished,

whether his home airdrome is a field ashore or the deck of a carrier. To enter another and broader field, the principles of war—

many of which were discussed in a former chapter—obviously

apply in all their fullness, whether the war be waged in the sky

above the land or in that over the sea. A catalogue of these points

of similarity might be continued indefinitely. But enough has

already been said to show that a complete study of naval aviation, even in a general way, would result in needless repetition of

previous statements. To avoid this, the method of discussion

adopted in this chapter consists in noting the various ways in

which naval aviation differs from that of the army.

History of naval aviation in the World War. From the

standpoint of the student of tactics, it is unfortunate that the

World War left us so little historical information in regard to

what may be called purely naval air warfare. Such air battles

as occurred were almost without exception over the land, and

between air units operating from land bases. Even in this category of air fighting, the war by no means developed air tactics

to its full possible growth. As stated previously, little was

accomplished in the employment of pursuit aviation beyond

the school of the squadron. But at least, in air-land warfare,

sound methods of employing the smaller units were devised,

and the trend of future development was unmistakably indicated. This experience, inadequate though it may be for our

future needs, is nevertheless a priceless heritage to the air tactician. The foundation is laid.
In air-sea warfare, on the other hand, this seems to be lacking. Air combats, or air force operations based on a high seas

fleet—which alone may be called purely naval in character—were

not exemplified in the World War. It is true that naval aviators

rendered invaluable services, and gave to history a long list of

heroic names and deeds. But the operations in which they participated were either overland expeditions or else seaplane

patrols. In the case of the latter, the aviators almost never found

an enemy in the air. Their principal objective was the submarine,

and their accomplishments belong to the annals of the sea,

rather than to those of the air; no lesson in air warfare can be

deduced from their activities. The enemy they had to contend

with was nature and not man. In the first named class of operations also, there was nothing peculiarly naval in character. These

overland expeditions may have had a direct naval motive, as in

the bombing of submarine bases, but they were executed against

land-locked objectives from land bases, and differed in no way

from similar expeditions by the army. They, too, teach us little of

the special form of air warfare which is purely naval in scope.

It is apparent then that naval aviation suffers under a

handicap in having no foundation of historical fact on which

to rear the edifice of its tactical doctrine. The difficulty, however, is apparent rather than real, and is largely overcome by

the close correspondence that naturally exists between air

fighting over the land and that over the sea. The greater part

of the methods found satisfactory in the former may be bodily

transposed to the latter, and used with little or no modification. For this reason, the gaps in naval air doctrine, which

experience has left to be filled, either by pure reason or else by

the results of peace time experiment, are not as great as would

appear on first examination.

Characteristics of naval aircraft. It is evident that the

basic principles in the design of military airplanes, that were

discussed in a previous chapter, apply fully to naval aircraft

also. For instance, the highest speed should be sought consistent with the performance of the mission for which the airplane is designed. Also the load to be carried, subject to the

same reservation, should be reduced to a minimum. It is in

respect to the latter qualification that naval aircraft make
demands on the designer which are more sharply conflicting

than those of the land airplane. Naval aircraft, from the very

nature of their service, find it highly desirable to be able to

alight safely on the surface of the sea, as well as to be able to

take off from it. Another quality that would greatly enhance

their value as naval craft, is that of complete seaworthiness.

Unfortunately, the possession of these desirable features carries with it a large addition in weight, the evil consequences of

which have been fully discussed in a previous chapter. As in

the case of the land airplane, it is necessary that the fundamental purpose for which the airplane is designed be kept in

mind. This must not be disregarded or jeopardized, in the

interests of what is merely desirable.

For example, let us consider, first of all, the pursuit type of

airplane. In so far as its flying characteristics are concerned,

the desirable naval pursuit airplane differs in no way from the

land pursuit machine, the tactical specifications for which

have been previously outlined. But if we disregard distinctively

air attributes and attempt to convert the pursuit airplane into

a seaplane by the addition of floats, its worth in an air fight is

at once compromised. Both speed and rate of climb are sensibly reduced; maneuverability, which is a function of both, suffers in even greater degree. Of course, this constitutes no

grave disadvantage, if the enemy follows the same policy. If

navy has to contend only with navy, and the characteristics of

the naval pursuit airplane become standardized throughout

the world, no handicap exists on either side. But if, on the

other hand, the enemy, intent only on the fundamentally air

nature of the problem, should employ a pursuit airplane of the

land type,—disregarding the minor claims of safety, in the

interests of victory—the addition of weight might well have

serious consequences.

It is not too much to say that the difference in flying characteristics between the two airplanes might, and probably

would, make the difference between defeat and victory. As so

often happens in war, an action based essentially upon considerations of safety, defeats its own purpose. Against a vigorous and aggressive enemy, the losses incurred in air combat

by providing floats for pursuit airplanes, would probably far
exceed the number of lives saved from drowning by those

same floats. Of course, for peace time training, or for any operation where the enemy is poorly equipped, the float type of

pursuit seaplane may well be employed. It is so designed that

wheels may be substituted readily for floats, and the seaplane

thus converted into a land type. The latter type, from the foregoing considerations, will probably be the machine normally

used for the naval pursuit operations. It will differ only in

minor details from the pursuit airplane designed specifically

for land-air use. It may well be provided with air-bags, which

may be quickly inflated when a forced landing in the water is

seem to be imminent, and which will keep the machine afloat

for some time. These can be installed without materially injuring the flying qualities of the airplane, and serve to provide a

reasonable safety device. The airplane, however, cannot take

off from the surface of the water when thus equipped.

While the disadvantages of extra weight patently outweigh

the advantages in the case of the naval pursuit airplane, the

decision is more difficult, when we come to consider the other

branches of naval aviation. Like their counterparts in the

army air force, they must carry so large a useful load, in order

merely to perform their air missions, that all hope of meeting

hostile pursuit aviation on an even footing of airworthiness,

must be abandoned. They must rely for safety in combat, not

on speed or on maneuverability, but solely on the defensive

power of the mutually supporting guns of a formation. On this

account, the sacrifice of flying qualities in order to be able to

alight on the water, does not present quite the same aspect as

in the case of the pursuit airplane. Obviously, however, when

other things are equal, the provision of floats or other means

of sustentation, cuts down by just that much the useful load

of the machine. From the purely air point of view, this is

always undesirable, though undoubtedly justified in some

cases.

Sea airdromes. Since the fuel capacity of the airplane is

quite limited, it must return to its base at definite intervals.

Obviously the base should be able to afford facilities both for

the take off and for the landing. This requirement seldom

presents any great difficulties on land, where spacious air-
dromes are frequently found, except in case of forced landings.

But when we consider that a land plane of the observation

type, for example, requires a run of about 400 feet for the take

off, and about 800 feet for the landing, the problem facing the

naval flier, when he wishes to use the deck of a ship as an airdrome, is a difficult one. However its solution has been undertaken in good earnest, and a new type of seacraft, the airplane

carrier, has taken its place in every modern navy. But airplanes are not confined solely to the carrier as a base. Provided that they be able to alight safely on the surface of the

sea, they may be attached to battleships, cruisers, destroyers,

or indeed to almost any type of surface seacraft. Tenders are

especially assigned as a base for the operation of aircraft.

Airplane carriers. From the air point of view, the carrier

is merely a floating airdrome. It contains a flight deck, from

which airplanes can take off, and on which they can alight. In

order to keep the flight deck free, lower decks are utilized to

accommodate airplanes until actually ready to operate, when

they are transferred to the flight deck by elevators. The carrier

presents a notably different appearance from other ships, due

to the fact that the upper works are either removed altogether

during flying, or else are placed together in an “island” on one

side of the ship.

At the present time, the United States has only one carrier

in commission, the Langley, which was originally designed for

other purposes, and is both too small and too slow to be considered first class. Two other carriers are under construction,

the Lexington and the Saratoga, both of which were originally

laid down as battle cruisers. Under the terms of the Washington Conference, the United States is limited in tonnage of aircraft carriers to 135,000 tons, but as there seems to be no

inclination on her part to build up to this allowance, it can

scarcely be regarded as a truly restrictive clause. The carrier

is also provided with armament, in the later types.

In utilizing the flight deck of the carrier, the airplane may

take off in two ways: either sufficient runway may be available

for it to gain flying speed under its own power, in the same

manner as on land, or else it may be launched from a catapult,

the power being furnished either by compressed air, or by a
powder charge. In general the take off offers few difficulties;

the problems have been satisfactorily solved. But so much

cannot be said of the landings. In the case of a ship of the Langley type, a successful landing depends very largely on the

operation of an arresting device, which applies a constantly

increasing force to the airplane, until it is brought to rest.

While the carrier is habitually headed into the wind, so that

the relative speed of the airplane is reduced by the velocities

both of the wind and of the carrier, nevertheless it is a delicate

feat of pilotage to land and hook the arresting device in just

the proper way. Moreover, the pilot is not given the same

chance of recovery as on land, where a timely use of the motor

has saved many a rough landing from ending in a crash. Then

too, in a heavy sea, where the carrier itself is subjected to considerable motion, the difficulties of the airplane pilot are

notably increased. On the whole, the problem of landing is so

much more formidable on the carrier than on the land airdrome, that it will inevitably result in a larger proportion of

crashes. This fact may enter as a serious drawback in a long

campaign, where daily operations must be undertaken during

unfavorable weather conditions.

But the carrier has an even more serious disadvantage,

from the tactical point of view, in the element of time. This has

a particularly important bearing on the operations of pursuit

aviation. Where airplanes must take off and alight under difficult conditions, one at a time, there is considerable loss of

time. It is no unusual thing for a pilot to make several unsuccessful approaches to the carrier, before the final attempt at

landing. This is of no serious consequence for a flight of three

airplanes; but when we consider the squadron and even the

group—which is envisaged as the normal complement of the

largest carriers—time enters in decisive fashion. The pursuit

airplane carries only some two to three hours of fuel, nor can

this amount be increased without sacrificing other qualities.

As an example of the influence of time, if it should require fifteen seconds for each airplane to take off, and one minute to

land, the commander of a group of 100 airplanes would be

able to operate with his command as a whole for less than one

hour. Two-thirds of his cruising time would be spent above his
carrier, forming his unit on the take-off, or breaking it up by

degrees for the landing. Of course, these figures present an

unusually adverse case. Moreover, with the improvements

which may confidently be expected with time and with the

advent of more modern carriers, some of these difficulties may

be removed, and all of them ameliorated.

Nevertheless, the carrier, as compared with land airdromes,

where many airplanes may take off and land simultaneously,

possesses so many inherent defects, that it will probably

always rest under a serious disadvantage, if the airplanes of

the enemy are operating from a land base. We may therefore

expect to see this factor assume an ever increasing importance

in naval strategy and tactics. It is no mere accident that naval

battles of the past have taken their names, almost without

exception, from nearby points of land. It may well be that in

the future, tactical locations for airdromes, rather than trade

routes or fortified harbors, will determine the place of battle.

Other ships and airplanes. The airplanes attached to

ships other than the carrier, usually take off by means of the

catapult. Upon completing the sorties, they return, and alight

on the surface of the water alongside the vessel. All are, of

course, provided with some means of flotation, and in some

cases it is practicable for them to refuel at sea. In general however, they must either seek the shelter of the land, or else be

hoisted aboard the vessel, in order to refuel. The latter operation is attended with numerous difficulties, and of course,

cannot be accomplished without taking up much of the time

of the vessel. In spite of these objections, the method is practicable so long as peace time conditions obtain, and the

weather is reasonably good.

When, however, the conditions are those of war and of battle, it is doubtful if these methods can apply. Let us consider

first of all, the case of pursuit aviation operating from vessels

other than carriers. If the airplane is to function as described

above, it must have floats; for the reasons stated above, these

are almost enough of a handicap in themselves to bring about

the defeat of the pilot in case he falls in with hostile pursuit

equipped with land planes. Moreover, in battle the vessel from

which the airplane took off, will seldom, if ever, be able to take
the time necessary to hoist the airplane aboard again. Under

these conditions, the unfortunate pursuit pilot would depart

on the execution of his battle mission with the assurance that

even if he were fortunate enough to survive the fire of his more

advantageously situated enemy, nevertheless he could look

forward only to a final landing in the sea, from which his rescue would be wholly a question of good luck. Human nature

being what it is, the pilot could scarcely be blamed if his

morale were not of the highest order. Indeed, some psychologists hold that the very essence of the will to fight is contained

in the hope of victory; once this goes, little is left save in rare

and exceptional spirits. Certainly, the moral factor is one of

great importance and cannot be lightly passed over. If on the

other hand, the pilot were equipped with a plane of the land

type, not only would he feel on even terms with the enemy, but

he would also have the pleasant assurance of being able to

land on the deck of a friendly carrier should his fuel run low.

But in any case, whether the plane fall in the sea, or reach the

deck of the carrier, it is precluded from returning to its original ship during the battle. One mission, and only one, is

allowed each airplane aboard ships other than carriers, at

least in so far as the commanders of the ships may influence

the action.

In addition to these objections, there are other tactical considerations which must be taken into account. The necessity

of adhering to the principle of mass in pursuit combat has

already been discussed. This principle is seriously violated by

parceling out pursuit airplanes by ones and twos among the

ships of a fleet. With the best intentions in the world, intimate

cooperation and team work would be almost impossible to

achieve under these circumstances. From these considerations, the conclusion seems inevitable that the only suitable

base for pursuit aviation with a fleet, is the carrier. It is true

that the facilities with the fleet are limited, and that, from

sheer necessity, all of them must be used. It might also be reasoned that the airplanes from the battleships may on their

second sortie, serve merely as replacements for the planes

which will inevitably be lost from the carriers in the first sortie. But these reasons can scarcely outweigh the strong objec-
tions to this procedure. On the carrier, the pursuit force can

at least land and take off, and its members are better situated

to achieve the tactical team-work, which is essential to victory.

When we come to consider the desirability of assigning

observation aviation to vessels other than carriers, it is evident

that many of the objections cited above still hold. They do not

however, apply in the same degree. The observation has

greater fuel capacity than the pursuit airplane, and therefore

stands a better chance of remaining in the air for the duration

of an action. Moreover, observation is a service rather than a

combatant arm, and the principle of mass does not apply, as

in the case of pursuit aviation. Furthermore, its cooperation

must be secured, not with other airplanes, as in the case of

the pursuit pilot, but with the ship it serves. Here there should

be liaison of a most intimate character. These reasons strongly

suggest the advisability of assigning observation airplanes to

battleships and cruisers. The amphibian plane, which can

alight either on land or on water, is suitable for observation

requirements, though it would be quite useless in the rôle of

pursuit aviation. If such a machine, on returning to its ship at

the end of a sortie, were signalled not to land alongside, it

could proceed to a carrier, refuel, and rejoin its ship when circumstances permitted.

Observation. The service of observation in naval warfare is

analogous in many respects to the similar duties performed for

the land forces. But, though alike in purpose and in general

scope, the two differ altogether in details. A pursuit pilot, thoroughly trained in his work, would meet with little that was new

or unexpected in transferring his activities from the air over the

land to that over the sea. But with the air observer, the transition would be into a notably different realm. The observer for

infantry must have a thorough knowledge of infantry tactics, if

he is to know what to look for, and is to understand the significance of what he sees. If such a well trained observer were suddenly called upon to execute a mission of naval reconnaissance,

he would find most of his knowledge, purchased by years of

labor, of little value in his new sphere of activity. He is now concerned with naval vessels, and must know the various classes

and the functions of each of them. He must have a thorough
knowledge of naval tactics, not only in order that he may give to

his commander a complete picture of the strength, location, and

dispositions of the hostile fleet, but also that he may, as was

illustrated in recent maneuvers, even suggest a certain course of

action, when the situation seems favorable. In short, the services

of observation for land and sea forces differ enough to warrant

complete specialization.

The principal duties of the service of observation, in the navy

as in the army, are embraced under the headings of reconnaissance, and of the adjustment and observation of artillery fire. In

the navy however, the functions included in these categories are

considered to differ among themselves enough to warrant specialization. Accordingly there are several types of observation airplanes, designed for the different classes of missions. The observation airplane proper executes limited reconnaissance duties,

and furnishes to the ship it serves the necessary data for the

control and adjustment of fire. For battleships, it consists of a

three-seater airplane of the amphibian type. The pilot and the

observer occupy two of the seats, while the rear seat is reserved

for the gunner, who is also a radio operator. For scout cruisers

and submarines this type is impracticable, and accordingly is

replaced by a two-seater and a single-seater respectively. In addition to these classes, there are two other types for distant reconnaissance (scouting and patrol). In both, a marked characteristic is great fuel capacity and a consequently increased cruising

radius.

Missions of distant reconnaissance demand great skill in

navigation for their successful accomplishment. As they are

executed beyond the range of support by friendly pursuit aviation, they must depend for protection on their own resources.

Since the airplanes of this type are comparatively slow, once

they are sighted by hostile aviation, there is little prospect of

escape, for pursuit planes can overtake them at a rate of some

60 miles an hour. They are also comparatively unmaneuverable; the single airplane of this type, though well armed, would

therefore fall an easy prey to a flight of pursuit aviation, once

the former were brought to heel. Tactical considerations therefore dictate that missions of this character should be executed

by a formation, to provide mutual support. This also provides
the possibility of rescue, in case of a forced landing, and tends

in general to heighten morale—there is a definite desire for

companionship in flying over the lonely wastes of the sea.

The observation of gunfire, or spotting, does not differ in

principle from the same mission with artillery in land warfare.

In general however, naval guns fire at ranges much greater

than those usually met with in combats on land. Largely on

this account, the airplane assumes an increased importance

in sea fights. Due to the height it may attain, and to its ability

to move rapidly to the point of vantage for visibility, the airplane can furnish more accurate observation than can be

obtained from the main-top of the ship. As on land, communications still fall far short of perfection; but unquestionably

they will be improved with the passage of time. Spotting planes

also habitually fly in formation for mutual protection.

Bombardment aviation. In warfare of the past, battles on

land have been, in the final analysis, conflicts of infantry. Once

this was true of sea fights also; they were little else than a succession of conflicts of infantry on shipboard, in which missile

weapons played a part, but in which shock action was the determining factor. This is no longer true; naval battles of the past few

centuries have been essentially artillery duels. Shock action,

once the paramount consideration, has long ceased to be a characteristic or even a possible combat form. The battle is now distinctively an affair of missiles. It was, therefore, entirely natural

that when a missile weapon was developed whose range was

measured, not in thousands of yards, as with the big gun, but in

scores and even hundreds of miles, and whose accuracy was

practically independent of range expressed in horizontal distances, it should suggest to many minds the birth of a new influence of magnitude in naval warfare.

Whatever might be the influence of bombardment aviation in

land warfare, it was felt that this could be no exact criterion of

its power in a sea fight; for, on land, however important missile

weapons have become, they are by no means recognized as the

final arbiter of battle. It is unfortunate that here again, naval history offers little help in the solution of the problem, for the last

great sea action antedates the development of an effective bombardment aviation. We are, therefore, compelled to rely almost
entirely on the results of peace time tests and experiments for

such conclusions as may be drawn, although certain war experiences are of some assistance. Unfortunately this subject has

aroused the most bitter controversy, which has naturally tended

to obscure reason. It is no part of this volume to perpetuate such

a conflict. But since the employment of the air force in naval battles of the future will revolve about the aerial bomb, it is necessary to reopen this question, since any discussion of naval aviation would be incomplete without it.

The bombing tests. In 1921, off the Virginia Capes, and

in 1923, off Cape Hatteras, the air force of the United States

army succeeded in sinking, with aircraft bombs, a destroyer, a

cruiser, and several battleships. Among the latter was the former German battleship, the Ostfriesland. This vessel is sometimes said to have been obsolete at the time of the sinking. The

use of this word, however, is apt to be misleading, since it is

sometimes given a technical meaning which differs from that

in current usage. The facts are, that the Ostfriesland was not

the latest type in battleship design; in both the British and

American navies, there are several classes of battleships,

which were completed after the Ostfriesland. On the other

hand, she was sufficiently modern to have participated in the

first line of battle at Jutland, and there are (in 1924) in both

the British and American navies, battleships which were completed prior to the Ostfriesland and are still rated as first line.

The other battleships sunk in the tests were unquestionably

obsolete in any sense of the word. As a result of these bombing tests, the highest authorities of the army and navy arrived

at the opinion that aircraft bombs were sufficiently powerful to

sink any vessel afloat at that time. While this conclusion is significant, its tactical bearing is obviously limited.

These tests were, of course, conducted under peace time

conditions. To accept them blindly as indicative of the results to

be expected in battle, is wholly unjustified. But on the other

hand, it would be equally unwise of us, lacking as we do any

examples from war to guide us, to throw away the lessons of

these tests as meaningless and without value, merely because

they did not take place under battle conditions. The obviously

wiser course is to consider wherein the conditions surrounding
these tests differed from those of actual warfare, to evaluate

these differences—wherever they are susceptible of evaluation—

and to modify accordingly the conclusions that would be drawn

if the tests were regarded as a demonstration of war time possibilities. In the succeeding paragraphs, an attempt will be made

to approach the subject on this basis.

Stationary and moving targets. The vessels sunk in the

tests were all stationary. In war on the other hand, they would

unquestionably be moving, and earnestly endeavoring to present

as difficult a target as possible for the bombers. In theory, it

would be a very simple matter to conduct a series of tests under

the same conditions, and to ascertain the relative accuracy of

bombing a moving target, as compared with the same target

when anchored. Something of this sort is habitually done in the

course of bombing training, in which towed targets are

employed. It is interesting to note that the results show practically the same accuracy as in bombing a stationary target. However, this indicates very little, since the towed target is slow, and

cannot zigzag. Unfortunately it has not yet proved practicable to

obtain a target which has the speed and maneuverability of a

cruiser or battleship, although ingenious attempts have been

made to solve this difficulty by bombing the shadow of a moving

airship. Nevertheless, it is possible to evaluate the factor of the

ship’s motion, with an accuracy, which, if not of the highest

degree, is yet sufficient for all tactical purposes.

Accuracy of bombing would be unaffected by the ship’s

velocity, provided the vessel should maintain a constant speed

and course during the time of flight of the bomb. This, of

course, is precisely what the vessel will not do, if aware of its

danger—which will usually be the case. But the vessel, it must

be recalled, is confined to a single plane, and the radius of the

arc on which it may turn has a well defined minimum for each

type of ship. Accordingly, the area out of which the vessel cannot escape between the release of the bomb and its arrival at

the surface of the sea, is a limited one. It is roughly a fan

shaped surface, whose size depends on the speed and tactical

radius of the vessel, as well as on the altitude from which the

bomb is discharged.
Let us call this, for lack of a better term, the area of possible locations. Now the bomb is considered effective not only if

it secures a direct hit on the vessel, but also if it strikes within

50 feet of the vessel’s sides, where a mining effect is secured.

Let us call this the danger area. Now if we assume that the

vessel may have changed course and speed at any moment

during the time of flight of the bomb, the ratio of the danger

area to the area of possible locations gives a coefficient which

expresses, albeit only approximately, the extent to which the

probability of a hit is reduced by the maneuvers of the vessel.

This coefficient has been calculated for a number of different

cruisers and battleships, as well as for different altitudes of

the bomber—all however, above 5,000 feet. It varies, of course,

for each case; but an average of a number of calculations,

based upon assumptions of a kind often met with in service,

shows I:2. For example, if the probability of securing a hit with

the vessel stationary were taken as I:3, the probability of

obtaining the same result when the vessel is zigzagging would

be I:6.

The fact that the vessels in the tests were anchored was

wholly unlike the conditions of actual warfare; on the other

hand, it must be borne in mind that a serious attack on a vessel would seldom in actual warfare be undertaken by a single

bomber, as was the case in the tests. The danger of attacks by

hostile pursuit aviation would in itself preclude such a

method. Furthermore, the tactics of the attacking air force

would naturally be based upon the probability of the vessel

attempting to escape by zigzagging; or would, at least, take

this into account. The formation of bombers can be so

arranged, or the timing of the release of the bombs so

adjusted, that there will be discharged, not a single bomb, but

a number of them so distributed that at least one will fall

within effective distance of the vessel, no matter what maneuver the latter may execute during the time of flight of the

bomb. For example, a flight of three bombers, in the customary close formation, would make such a pattern, if it attacked

in a direction opposite to that in which the vessel is going, Nos.

2 and 3 in the formation dropping simultaneously with the

leader; or the same result may be reached, if the attack is
made in the same direction as the vessel is going, and Nos. 2

and 3 drop their bombs approximately four seconds after the

leader. Bombing in war will be by salvo rather than by single

shots. There will be no such economical husbanding of bombs,

as must of necessity exist in times of peace.

Bombers and antiaircraft artillery. During the tests, for

obvious reasons, no attempt was made to endanger the bombing airplanes. In this respect, they differed more widely than

in any other, from the realities of war, where the vessel would

avail itself of every agency at its disposal to destroy the attacking bombers. Because of the fact that no account was taken of

the possibilities of antiaircraft interference, things were done

which would be wholly impracticable in war. For example, trial

shots were used, the altitude of the bombers was lower than

would ordinarily be permissible in war, and the airplane was

under no compulsion to release its bomb until the conditions

were favorable. All of these factors made for greater accuracy

than would be attainable in war. Had the vessel been provided

with antiaircraft artillery, the task of the bomber would have

been more difficult. He would certainly have been compelled to

operate at greater altitudes, and would have been subjected to

harassing fire during the attack. On the other hand, the tests

were conducted with a type of sight which has now become

obsolete, and has been replaced by one whose marked superiority has already been described. Many of the practices which

were essential to accuracy in the tests, are no longer necessary.

It may fairly be concluded, on the whole, that accuracy of

bombing in any peace time test, will be greater than can ever

be the case in war, where the enemy has antiaircraft guns. On

the other hand, it is difficult to avoid the conclusion that such

a defense alone can never halt a determined attack. It may

harass, but it cannot destroy. The general subject of antiaircraft defense has been fully discussed in a previous chapter,

but certain special phases of it may be mentioned here.

Let us take a concrete example. The latest class of American battleship, the West Virginia, has (according to Jane’s

“Fighting Ships”) eight antiaircraft guns. Let us assume a

flight of nine bombing planes, bent on the attack of the vessel.
They are provided with modern sights; accordingly, it is not

necessary for them to maintain a constant course and speed

over a distance of several miles, as was formerly the case. This

is necessary only for the last score of seconds before the bomb

is released. As the bombing flight comes within range of the

antiaircraft guns, it changes speed, altitude, and course, at

irregular intervals, in order to make itself as difficult a target

as possible. Prior to the moment of releasing the bombs, the

flight is within range of antiaircraft guns approximately two

minutes. The task facing the guns would therefore be to

destroy or neutralize the bombers within this short period. If

the gunners should fire at their maximum rate, which is

assumed to be 10 rounds a minute they could send up in all

some 160 rounds. If we compare this number with the figure

most favorable to antiaircraft artillery, given in Chapter VIII,

the contrast is striking. It must at once be added, that such a

comparison is by no means conclusive proof of the inadequacy

of this defense. It is well to be chary, as a rule, of mathematical

demonstrations in matters of tactics. Nevertheless, they often

afford an index.

Equipment of the vessel. The vessels in the tests had

been stripped of nearly all movable equipment. It has been

alleged that they might have been kept afloat, and even in the

line of battle, if they had been provided with pumps and suitably manned, as they would have been in war. It is, of course,

impracticable now to ascertain whether the destruction of the

water tight integrity of the vessel was too nearly complete for

pumps to cope with. Possibly they could have done so. But on

the other hand, the presence of the usual equipment and supplies abroad the vessels would not have been an unmixed benefit. The history of modern naval warfare shows that the proximate cause of the destruction of many vessels in battle, is not

the immediate action of hostile projectiles, but rather the force

of internal explosions. The underlying cause is of course the

projectile, but it needs the presence of boilers and magazines

to effect such thorough destruction.

A consideration that has sometimes been lost to view, in

the numerous discussions of the tests, is the fact that, from

the tactical point of view, the actual sinking of a hostile war-
ship accomplishes the desired purpose with a wholly unnecessary degree of thoroughness. It is enough merely to put the

vessel out of action—which may accomplished by many a blow

that would leave it still afloat.

Future construction. The menace of the bomb will

undoubtedly have an influence on future naval construction.

Additional deck armor will be provided in an effort to neutralize the effect of explosions on deck. Since much of the destructive effect of the bomb comes from mining, this too must be

guarded against. Older vessels will be provided with “blisters”;

future construction will endeavour to localize underwater

injuries by further internal subdivision. But there is an obvious limit to all of this if the naval vessel is to retain its useful

characteristics as such. Meanwhile the bomb also increases in

power. The Ostfriesland was sunk with 2,000-pound bombs.

Already a 4,000-bomb has been constructed, nor does it set a

natural limit. What this may be no one can foretell.

Protection by pursuit aviation. The vessels in the tests

were, of course, unprotected by pursuit aviation. It is chiefly

in this respect that war may wholly reverse the results of these

peace time experiments. All the other variations from actual

battle conditions were of minor importance, when compared

with this one; for it is now generally recognized that the only

hope of an adequate defense against aircraft lies in the action

of other aircraft.

The inherent difficulties of the defensive in air warfare have

already been discussed. The problem however presents peculiar features in naval warfare, which justify a further consideration of this special class of operations. By way of illustration, let us assume two hostile fleets, both of which are

operation beyond supporting distance from land airdromes.

The only air forces which may influence the situation are those

on board the carriers of the two contestants, who may be designated for convenience, as the Red and the Blue fleets. Let us

further assume that the Red fleet is inferior in major calibre

artillery to its adversary, but that it is superior in air force,

consisting of attack, pursuit, and bombardment aviation. The

Blue air strength, on the other hand, consists in pursuit aviation alone. In all other respects, the two fleets are on a substantial parity. In such a situation, the Blue intention

undoubtedly is to close with the Red fleet, where the superior

gun power of the Blues can make itself felt. To defend itself

against Red air attack, the Blue fleet plans to make an intensive use of its pursuit aviation, which is superior in numbers

to that of the enemy. Since it is extremely difficult, in the general case, wholly to prevent observation, each fleet may be

assumed to have reasonably accurate knowledge of the

strength, location, and dispositions of its adversary. The Red

intention in such a situation, is obviously the converse of the

Blue; the former purposes remaining beyond range of the Blue

guns, but within striking distance of aircraft; in this position,

the Reds will repeatedly attack the Blue fleet with bombers,

supported by the other elements of the air force, with the ultimate aim of reducing the Blue superiority in gun power to a

point where a general action becomes advisable.

From the point of view of the commander of the Blue pursuit force, the problem is, strategically at least, a purely defensive one. But there are certain notable differences between

this situation and that usually met with in the defensive on

land, the difficulties of which were dwelt on in a previous

chapter. In the latter case, the location of the hostile airdromes

in rarely known with exactness; and the objective of any given

matter, so widespread are the establishments of an army. In

naval warfare however, there are usually two well defined

areas, about which the interest of the air commander centers:

in this case, they are the Red carriers and the Blue fleet. In

this respect then, the situation is clarified for the Blue commander. On the other hand, he has to reckon with the inherent difficulties of operating from carriers, a handicap which is

by no means completely offset for the defensive by the fact that

the enemy labors under a similar burden.

A plan of defense. Several plans of defense are open to the

Blue air commander. First of all, he may elect to hold his airplanes on the alert, taking off only on warning of the approach

of hostile bombers. The success of this plan depends upon the

timeliness of the warning, for these are always certain necessary preparations. Motors must be warned up; while this

phase of the preparation may be reduced appreciably, it can
never be entirely dispensed with. Then too, the pilots cannot

take off in formation, but must proceed singly, afterwards

assembling by flights, then by squadrons, and then by groups.

Finally the assembled units must climb to an altitude above

that of the approaching bombers, who should be intercepted

far enough away from the fleet, to allow the air battle to

develop its full effect before the bombers can strike at their

objective. All this takes time. The estimate most favorable to

the Blues can scarcely by under twenty-five minutes, even for

a unit no larger than a squadron of 25 planes. It will often

exceed this figure. It is evident then, that the warning must

reach the Blues, while the Red bombers are, at the very least,

50 miles from the fleet, if the defense is to avail anything.

Service of antiaircraft information. Considerations

other than those of antiaircraft defense generally require the

presence of a screen of destroyers and fleet submarines. These

can also transmit to the fleet information of the approach of

hostile aircraft. There is, of course, the possibility that the

enemy may drive in these craft on the main fleet, just to prevent this service of information. Thus in the situation outlined

above, the commander of the Red fleet may decide to do this,

at the same time utilizing the equal speed of his fleet to remain

out of range of the guns of the Blue battleships.

In land warfare, the service of antiaircraft information, can

be performed only rarely by aircraft. This duty is essentially

the rôle of ground organizations. At sea however, the conditions differ somewhat. In this situation, for example, it is necessary only to keep vigilant watch on the carriers, in order to

receive ample warning. No matter how much time the pursuit

units may require to reach their battle stations, it will be less

than that required by the bombing planes, in the general case;

so that, if Blue observation airplanes should send in by radio

immediate information of activity on board the Red carriers,

Blue pursuit forces would nearly always be successful in

intercepting the bombers. It may be anticipated however, that

the Reds would take counter-measures against this very possibility, and with every probability of success. An observation

airplane which gains contact with the enemy, rapidly ascertains his dispositions and strength, and then endeavours to
escape, has an excellent chance of succeeding. If however, it

attempts to remain in constant surveillance of the carriers, it

is almost certain to be discovered and brought to combat, with

the inevitable result of being either driven off its station or

destroyed. This source of information cannot therefore be

relied upon. Of course, all possible means of obtaining information must be utilized, however uncertain they may be in

their functioning. But it appears that at sea, as well as on

land, antiaircraft information must depend primarily on a surface organization. In this connection, it is important not to

overlook the possibility of ruses.

Ruses. The Red commander has, of course, a fairly accurate knowledge of the physical characteristics of the Blue air

force. Since he will try to time his attack so as to strike the

Blue fleet, when its protecting pursuit is at the greatest possible disadvantage, the advisability of a feint at once suggests

itself. Let us suppose, for example, that the two fleets are

approximately 100 miles apart. The Red bombers take off and

head towards the Blue fleet. They are preceded by a few monoplace scouts equipped with radio, who made a rapid reconnaissance to ascertain the enemy’s reactions. This discloses

that the Blue pursuit force, which has received timely warning

of the approach of the bombers, is preparing to meet them in

the manner previously outlined. The Red commander, appreciating that his bombers have fuel for five hours, while the

Blue pursuit airplanes have only some two and one half hours,

simply changes course, and delays his attack. When informed

by his scouts that the Blue pursuit units, whether from choice

of from shortage of fuel, are returning to the carriers, he then

drives home his attack.

Of course, so simple a ruse as that described cannot be

expected to work automatically. For instance, the Blue pursuit

force may take the chance of being eluded, and attempt to run

down the Red bombers. But the possibilities of a feint such as

that described, show the tremendous difficulties that face

defending pursuit aviation, due solely to the time element.

To avoid failure, this must be calculated with accuracy,

although, in many cases, important elements entering into the

calculation can only be surmised. Nevertheless, failure to esti-
mate the time factor within rather narrow limits, may make

the difference between the defending pursuit aviation being

found on its station, fully prepared to give battle, and, on the

other hand, its being found abroad its carriers, engaged in

refueling, with only a small fraction of the force able to meet

the impending attack.

The air battle. The essential weaknesses in the defensive

employment of pursuit aviation, which were just discussed,

arose from the difficulty of insuring contact with the hostile

bombers, in time to bring them to combat before they could

launch their bombs at the Blue fleet. However, even when

these obstacles have been overcome, the safety of the fleet

from air attack is by no means assured. There remains to be

taken into account the outcome of the air battle.

The Red attack, in its general aspect, will consist of a preliminary assault by attack and pursuit aviation, preparatory to

the main blow, which is delivered by the bombers. Units of

attack aviation will direct their efforts principally against antiaircraft guns and machine guns. They may also operate

against the carriers. While the armament of attack aviation is

too light to inflict permanent injury on the carriers, the flight

decks may be damaged and casualties thus caused to the air

force. In order to interfere further with the antiaircraft

defense, a smoke screen may be laid to windward of the fleet.

Experience has shown that this partially blinds the defense,

while causing little inconvenience to the attacking airplanes.

Since the all important objective of the Blue pursuit force the

Red bombardment aviation, the Red attack units will be

ignored, and left to the antiaircraft machine guns to combat.

The mission of the Red pursuit force is to defeat or neutralize the Blue pursuit force, and thus leave the Red bombers

free to drive home the main attack. The mission of the Blue

pursuit, on the other hand, is to destroy or drive back the

bombers. Indeed the basic doctrine of the former force

requires it to ignore all but the hostile bombers, and to push

straight to this goal. But obviously such a doctrine expresses

only an ideal. In war, we seek, of course, the complete fulfillment of our purpose, but from the very nature of the thing, we

expect to achieve only so much of it as our enemy is unable to
prohibit. It is quite impossible to ignore an opponent who

obstinately refuses to be ignored. The Red pursuit force, as the

hostile fleet is approached, will fly above the bombers but in

such close proximity that it may intercept any threatened

attack upon the latter. Even though inferior in numbers, it will

not hesitate to attack whenever a favorable opportunity presents itself. If the enemy should follow too literally the precepts

of his doctrine and ignore these attacks, the task of the Red

pursuit force will be all the easier, since it will have to deal

with a practically defenseless foe. It is apparent then, that

whether or not it wishes to do so, the Blue pursuit must first

settle its account with the Red pursuit force, before it can proceed to the execution of its principal mission of attacking the

bombers. In a previous chapter, the indecisive character of

single battles was described. There seems to be nothing in this

special situation to alter in a material fashion the general conclusions which were arrived at in that discussion.

With the above considerations in mind, the Blue pursuit

commander, as the battle nears, will be faced with the necessity for a decision; he must either concentrate his attack on

the Red pursuit, in the hope of defeating it in time to attack

the bombers; or else, he must attempt to occupy the Red pursuit with part of his force, while assaulting the bombers with

the remainder. The former plan is, or course, the one that will

make the stronger appeal to the Blue pursuit commander:

from the point of view of air tactics, it is the only sound plan.

Unfortunately for the Blue pursuit commander however, his

decision cannot be based upon principles of air tactics alone,

but must take into account his mission of stopping the bombing attack at all costs. If the bombers are within a few miles of

their objective—which will generally be the case—there will not

be time enough to defeat the hostile pursuit and then the

bombers in turn, before the latter will be over their objective.

The adoption of this plan will almost certainly cause the Blue

pursuit to fail in performing its primary mission. In general

therefore, the Blue pursuit commander will probably decide to

split his forces—unsound tactically though this may be—and

attack both the enemy’s pursuit and bombardment aviation.
The attack on the bombers. The part of the Blue pursuit

force designated to attack the bombers then proceeds to the

execution of that mission, while the remainder attempts to

contain the Red pursuit. Let us assume that the latter mission

is successfully executed, and that the first Red force has only

the Blue bombers to contend with. Now, from the characteristics of the two forces, and from the very nature of the offensive, determined attacks by pursuit aviation in large numbers

will eventually destroy bombing units, which are unsupported

by friendly pursuit. But this result, where numbers are

involved, can never be expected from a single fight. Even

under conditions favorable to pursuit, it can come only in consequence of many successful combats. Moreover, in this situation, the Blue pursuit force has been compelled by circumstances to surrender some of the advantages of the offensive.

The choice of time and place of fighting, for instance, belongs

not to the attacking pursuit but to the defending bombardment aviation. It is latter, for example, which would insure to

itself such advantages as might come from the direction of the

sun, or from the clouds.

It is scarcely necessary to state that the bombers will not

attack—as was done, from motives of economy, in the tests—

by single airplanes. Such a procedure in war would be suicidal. They will of course, fly in strong close formations. These

formations are far from defenseless; on the contrary, they are

capable of offering a determined resistance. Although the

offensive alone offers decisive results in the air, the bombers

will perform their missions successfully if they merely succeed

in avoiding defeat, in the air. Time is on their side, as is generally the case of the defender. They have merely to hold off

defeat for a certain length of time, and their work will have

been finished. Even if the part of the Blue force assigned to the

attack of the bombers should outnumber the latter, it does not

necessarily follow that all, or even a large part of the bombers

would be destroyed. Some of them would go down, and take

with them some of the attacking pursuit. No one can state definitely what the results of such an air battle would be. But if

past experience be a good guide, the greater portion of the

bombers would attain to their objective, unless, of course,
there be a vast disparity between the two contending air

forces—a condition that is inconsistent with war itself.

There remains one other recourse for the attacking Blue

pursuit: deliberately to ram each and every bomber. Indeed, it

is accepted naval doctrine that this course must be resorted

to, when attacks of the usual character have failed in their

purpose. The grave defects of shock action as a form of air

warfare have been described in a previous chapter. Indeed,

raming seems a veritable act of despair. Nevertheless, it cannot be diminished as the wholly impracticable requirement of

a doctrinaire. Should this teaching be thoroughly inculcated

before battle, there will be many cases of ramming in battle.

But one is tempted to suspect that, in may other cases, the

conditional character of the requirement—that is need be executed only after fire action has failed—may lead all but the

very stoutest of heart to persist in attacking with fire, in eternal hope that success will crown the next dive. Furthermore,

it must be realize that this weapon is a sword of two edges.

Neither side will have a monopoly of the spirit of determined

self-sacrifice. When heroic remedies become in order, both

pursuit forces may resort to them in equal measure. 

A second plan of defense. From the foregoing discussion

it is seen that a grave defect of the first plan of defense lies in

the time factor. It is always difficult, and sometimes impossible to devise a scheme whereby the Blue pursuit force may be

sure of gaining contact with the enemy in time. A plan of overcoming this disadvantage at once suggests itself. A part of the

defending pursuit force may be kept in the air continuously

during the time that an attack is feared. The objections to this

plan however, are serous ones. Due to the wear and tear on

men and machines and the limited fuel capacity, it would be

impracticable to keep more than a third of the force in the air

continuously. While this could be done by carefully timing the

reliefs, it would necessitate approximately three hours, as a

matter of routine, for every pilot available, in the course of a

long summer’s day. In addition to this, every pilot whose

machine was not actually undergoing repairs or being reserviced, would take off whenever the alarm sounded.
Of course, this plan has one great advantage; it would preclude complete surprise by the Red force, and would insure its

being met by at least some portion of the Blue pursuit units—

which is not always assured under the first plan discussed.

Then too, when this method is combined with a well organized

service of antiaircraft defense, it offers the best promise of getting the bulk of the force into the air in the shortest time.

If, on the other hand, the alarm should come at an inopportune moment, a full third of the force would be unable to

participate in the fight. This might well prove to be the difference between victory and defeat. Moreover, there could never

be thrown into the fight, no matter at what time the alarm was

sounded, as large as a number of airplanes as would be mustered under the first plan. The most serious objection to the

second plan however, lies in the excessive strain it would

impose on men and machines. In many situations, the plan

would be justifiable—particularly so, where there existed a

great preponderance of pursuit aviation. But it cannot be carried out over a considerable period of time, without a marked

deterioration in efficiency. 

A third plan of defense. Since it has passed into a truism

that the best defense is a vigorous offensive, this is naturally

suggested as a possible plan for the defense of the Blue fleet

in the assumed situation. It seems on first inspection, to be

peculiarly applicable; for pursuit aviation, of all combat forces,

is the one most specifically adapted for offensive action. But

while this is true, nevertheless the offensive power of pursuit

aviation is confined rather rigidly to its own medium, the air.

Where it is a question of destroying the enemy by demolishing

his shelter or his support, pursuit aviation is comparatively

impotent.

Let us examine this further by assuming, in the situation

outlined before, that the Blue commander decided on a rigorous offensive with his pursuit force. He might of course, by

sheer good fortune, succeed in catching the Reds in an awkward predicament. If, for example, the arrival of the Blue pursuit force over the Red fleet should occur at a time when the

Reds had determined on a sortie, but had succeeded in getting

only half their force in the air, the Blue force would have
almost an ideal tactical advantage, and should inflict serious

losses. But such a surprise could occur only if the Red service

of antiaircraft information were wholly deficient—an unlikely

contingency. In the general case, the Blue pursuit force would

run very serious risks. If it should leave the Blue fleet unprotected for so long a period, there is always the chance that the

enemy, by taking a circuitous route, might arrive in the

absence of the defenders.

Air forces cannot rely on gaining contact with other air

units, with any degree of certainty, as may be done in the comparatively slow, and single plane, movements of land and sea

forces. Even in the event that this chance is taken without

serious consequences, the Blue pursuit force cannot accomplish anything decisive over the Red fleet, if the latter have a

reasonably effective service of security. Such a sortie will probably find the Red air force secure on its carriers. Against these

the pursuit force alone can accomplish very little. In all probability, there would result merely an inconsequential engagement between the Blue pursuit and the Red antiaircraft units,

until diminishing fuel supply forced a Blue withdrawal. Thereupon another danger would exist for the Blues; for the Red

units might immediately take off, and following closely on the

heels of the departing Red pursuit, catch it as a hopeless disadvantage, from shortage of fuel.

The inherent weakness of the defensive. The situation

outlined above has been dwelt upon at some length, because

it has, as its central theme, a naval policy which is not without its apparent advantages, and its advocates. This postulates that the fleet which is inferior in major calibre artillery

should even the odds by the use of bombardment aviation,

and that the superior fleet should meet the threat of the latter

by putting its entire air strength into defending pursuit units.

However attractive such a scheme may appear at first blush,

it is fundamentally unsound. It compels the adoption of the

defensive in that element where the offensive has its most

powerful stronghold. Only by a determined retention of the

spirit of the offensive can favorable results be expected. Deliberately to assume the defensive is truly to invite disaster. It is

however, difficult to avoid this, unless the air force be organ-
ized with an eye to its essentially offensive character. The

peculiar conditions surrounding air-sea warfare demand for

the true offensive, a two-fold striking power—against the

enemy in the air, and against his floating air bases. Pursuit

aviation alone cannot do this. It is perhaps possible to dispense with attack aviation, without running risks too grave.

But it is essential that force contain both bombardment and

pursuit aviation.

The contest of fleets with balanced air forces. If now,

we again assume the situation previously described, except

that the Blues also have a balanced air force, similar in all

respects to the Red force, the problem undergoes a marked

change of aspect. No longer will the Blues be faced with the

necessity of a defensive rôle. Both sides will therefore seek a

favorable opportunity to strike the first blow. Most important

will be the facilities—including both training and organization—which permit the air force to get into the air quickly, and

as a whole; for the factor of time may enter in a predominating manner. We may indeed expect the maneuvering of the two

fleets, as they approach the danger line of the range of aircraft,

to be conditioned very largely by the hope of striking an overwhelming blow through the air, before the enemy can do so.

The direction and intensity of the wind may prove to be important factors in the situation. Fog banks of fairly well defined

boundaries, such as occur over certain areas periodically, may

become the key to the tactical situation. What the outcome of

such a contest may be, no one can say, except that leadership

and the will to win, will probably write the answer.

Chemical bombs. The status of this country in regard to

chemical warfare has already been discussed. It is sufficient to

add that naval warfare offers unusually good opportunities for

the effective use of gas. The ventilation system of the naval

vessel consists in taking air from the upper decks, and forcing

it by suitable blowers to all parts of the ship. If chemical

bombs were dropped on the decks, the ventilating system

would operate with equal effectiveness to distribute the poisonous gases. Of course, this menace may be met by masks,

or by similar devices in the ventilating system. But experience

shows that gas attacks, no matter how nearly complete the
defense may be, often produce casualties, and always result in

some discomfort and loss of operating efficiency.

Night bombing. Night bombing over land is a well established feature of air warfare. It may be questioned, however, if

the methods of the World War can be transferred bodily to the

work of naval aviation. Navigation over land by night has

always been markedly dependent on such aids as lights and

landmarks; these will seldom be present at sea. Moreover the

very act of flying is dependent on the visual perception of some

feature, such as the horizon or a flat field, which enables the

pilot to judge when he is approximately horizontal. This is far

more difficult to obtain over the sea than over the land. Until

such time as many distant missions shall have been executed

over the sea at night, the practicability of night bombing of a

hostile fleet on the high seas may well be questioned. However

the matter is largely one of successful navigation. The great

progress that has been made in the last few years in the development of instruments to enable the pilot to navigate in fogs,

leads to the belief that it will eventually be crowned with success. When this time arrives, night bombing in air-sea warfare

must be reckoned with as a serious factor.

Torpedo airplanes. A development that is peculiar to

naval aviation is the adaptation of the torpedo to air warfare.

The torpedo plane, so far as its flying characteristics are concerned, is essentially the same as the bomber. The former,

however, must discharge its projectile from a very low altitude,

within some 10 to 20 feet of the water.

As in many other phases of naval aviation, torpedoing from

aircraft is a peace time development. On this account, its tactical employment, with no foundation of war experience on

which to build, is a subject of some debate. The rapidity of the

torpedo plane, as compared with surface craft, is of course, a

great advantage. Due to this, it may approach within close

range to discharge its torpedo, with correspondingly increased

accuracy. However, its low altitude of approach, and the direction it must hold, permit artillery to be traversed fast enough

to fire on the airplane. Moreover the torpedo plane is vulnerable to a type of attack, which could not be employed against

any other class of aircraft. A barrage may be placed across its
line of approach participated in by all the artillery of the fleet.

This could put up large splashes of comparatively thick

columns of water, which would extend to a considerable height

above the altitude at which the torpedo must be dropped. If

the airplane should strike such a column of water, a crash

would probably result.

The similarity between the torpedo and the bombing airplane naturally leads to a comparison between the two. The

bomb can carry a greater proportion of high explosive, and

therefore may effect greater destruction than the torpedo.

Probably also, the bomber will be subjected to less danger in

the execution of a normal mission than will the torpedo plane.

However, at the present time, our experience is entirely too

meager to carry the comparison much further. The true tactical value of the torpedo plane must, of necessity, be left to the

future to determine.

Conclusions. There is no longer room for doubt in the

mind of any thinking man that the advent of the airplane has

introduced a factor of great importance into naval warfare. The

bombing airplane in particular seems destined to exercise a

far-reaching influence. The chief of the Bureau of Aeronautics

of our Navy has said: “Potentially, the aircraft bomb, is, I

believe, the most serious menace which the surface craft has

to face today, not even excepting gunfire.” With this opinion,

few airmen can be found to take issue; but it is a far cry

indeed from this opinion to a belief that the invention of aircraft has removed all need for a navy. Such a conclusion could

only be reached by very superficial reasoning from the known

facts. It can indeed be maintained with some show of logic,

that the old type of oversea expeditions will never be able to

effect a landing with large forces in the face of an active and

strong air force, and that on this account, a nation which possesses a strong air force and is content to wage defensive warfare on its own shores, can afford to dispense with a navy.

But even this conclusion ignores two fundamental truths

which are pertinent. Whether a nation fights offensively or

defensively, the throttling effect of sea power remains much

the same, and slowly saps the strength of its victim; and sea

power cannot exist without a navy. Furthermore, no nation in
its right senses will wage defensive warfare, unless the offensive be beyond its grasp. The unpopularity of the aggressor in

war has tended to cajole us into loose thinking on this subject.

We Americans are thoroughly, and perhaps justly, convinced

that we are a peace loving people, who will never bring on a

war. But we ignore both our history and our common sense,

when we conclude from this that we will voluntarily assume a

defensive attitude, once war has begun. It is true that we did

go on the defensive in both our Revolutionary War and in the

War of 1812. But we did so, only after our offensives against

Canada had failed, and the overwhelming sea power of our

opponent, left us no other choice. How different was the

course of the United States in the Mexican War, the Civil War,

the Spanish War, and the World War. The sea power fought

against the enemy, and the United States sensibly saw to it

that her own territory should not bear the scars of fighting. It

can be predicted with certainty that, in the event of another

war, we shall strive again to assume the offensive. To do so, we

must have a navy.

But the fact that a navy is indispensable, does not prove

that the present type of navies is destined to last in all its

details forever. Nor does a complete acceptance of the doctrine

that the backbone of the navy is the capital ship, necessarily

lead in logic to a belief that the prevailing type of all-big-gun

ship is the proven capital ship of the future. Already, within

the memories of men still young, the capital ship has undergone profound changes. It is idle to deny that so epochal an

event as the growth of aviation may effect changes even more

profound. Precisely what these modifications may be, it is as

yet, impossible to say. It is possible that the carrier will altogether replace the battleship. It is more probable that there

will be developed a type of major artillery carrier; press reports

regarding the new British battleships, the Rodney and the

Hood indicate that they have more than a suggestion of the

carrier about them. But whatever changes may come about, it

is certain that this subject is worthy of our best thought.