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The role of the bomber has proved to be on of the most controversial aspects of twentieth-century warfare. Bombers tells the story of the bomber with a blend of narrative and personal accounts, recording the history of the principle bombing raids and the skill and courage of those who flew them. David Wragg begins with a brief overview of the origins of the concept of aerial bombardment, which astonishingly go back several thousand years. He then describes the early raids of the First World War and the use of the bomber between the wars by the Germans in the Spanish Civil War, the Italians in Abyssinia and by the Japanese in China. The Second World War marked the massive deployment of the bomber by the main combatants as a major tactical and strategic weapon and, bringing this in-depth study up to date, Wragg examines the United States controversial campaign of extensive bombing in Vietnam during the 1960s and 70s. He also discusses whether, with the growing use of cruise missiles, the manned bomber may soon be the first element of air power to be made redundant in this age of high technology. Fully illustrated with a wide selection of photographs, Bombers will appeal to all with an interest in this key weapon of twentieth-century warfare.
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BOMBERS
Times change, and so do the aircraft and the munitions, but smart weapons or not, every bombing mission still starts as it always did, with the work of the ground crews. The RAF armourers shown here are loading a laser-guided bomb on to a Tornado GR1 during the Kosovo crisis of 1999. (© British Crown Copyright/MoD)
FROM THE FIRST WORLD WAR TO KOSOVO
DAVID WRAGG
First published in 1999
This edition first published in 2009
The History Press
The Mill, Brimscombe Port
Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG
www.thehistorypress.co.uk
© David Wragg, 1999, 2009
The right of David Wragg to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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EPUB ISBN 978 0 7509 8129 3
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Foreword
Introduction
1. The First World War
2. Distant Thunder: The Bomber Between the Wars
3. Blitzkrieg
4. Striking at the Enemy
5. Targeting Germany
6. The Bomber at Sea
7. Safety in Numbers
8. Combined Ops: The Point Blank Directive
9. Taking the War to Japan
10. An Uneasy Peace
11. The Gulf War and the Kosovo Crisis
Notes
Bibliography
One of the most controversial aspects of warfare has been, and to some extent remains, the role of the bomber. Yet the men who flew on these operations were human, often coping with great hardships and tremendous risks in the service of their country. Much of the controversy arises from the thought of aircraft being used to attack ‘innocent’ civilians, and there were cases of this happening, at Rotterdam and in the Channel Islands. Nevertheless, in most of the operations the ‘innocent’ civilians were factory workers and others whose contribution to the war effort was vital. Even so, as the reader will see, at the outset of the Second World War many on both sides went to great lengths to ensure that civilian casualties were avoided.
The bomber is also often portrayed as a blunt weapon, but as many of the operations recorded here show, it could also be very precise, and perhaps never more so than in the daring Mosquito raid on the prison at Amiens, described in Chapter Eight.
Unfortunately, war is sometimes a necessary evil, and we forget all too often that sometimes it is a lesser evil when the alternative is considered. It is important in such circumstances to recognize the great courage of so many.
I would like to thank all those who have helped with this book, and none more so than those who took the trouble to record their actions and emotions in the height of war.
David Wragg
Edinburgh
Summer 1999
Although the bomber was a child of war, born during the First World War, the concept of aerial bombardment is several thousand years old. A Hindu epic poem, the Mahabharata of Dwaipayana-Vyasa, described a winged chariot, built by Krishna’s enemies, which flew over the town of Dwarakha to bomb his followers. Later, in 1670, the Italian Jesuit Fr. Francesco de Lana de Terzi produced a design for an aerial ship, which was to be kept airborne by four hollow copper spheres, each of which was to contain a vacuum. He felt compelled to warn that the Almighty might not allow the construction of such a craft, in case it was used against an enemy, killing their men and burning their ships by means of ‘artificial fireworks and fire balls’.
Sure enough, after the invention of the balloon by the Montgolfier brothers and their rival, Jacques Charles, in 1783, the idea of aerial bombardment was eventually tried. The only mystery is why it took so long, since it was not until 1849, during the siege of Venice by Austrian forces, that balloons were used to drop bombs on a city.
The Wright brothers, who were spasmodically very active in trying to interest the military in their new invention, believed that they had invented something which would make future wars impossible. This was high optimism, doubtless born of the belief that in future, movements of troops and of fleets would be impossible to hide, and it was based on assumptions which were far from correct. Even so, the military didn’t take easily to the idea of flight. Aeroplanes involved in manoeuvres before the outbreak of war in 1914 were often regarded as a nuisance, and one British general is reputed to have complained that the ‘aeroplanes completely spoilt the war’, after war games in 1912.
The threat of the bomber was taken seriously enough for the Hague Convention of 1899 to prohibit bombing from balloons – this was four years before the first aeroplane or airship flights. In 1907, a second conference went even further, banning the bombardment of undefended places by land forces ‘by any means whatsoever’, whether this was from the air or by means of artillery. During the Italo–Turkish War of 1911, the Italians obtained and used aeroplanes for the first time, using these to bomb Turkish positions, prompting a protest that the Italian aviators had hit a hospital.
The optimism of the Wrights was echoed elsewhere by many who thought that bombing undefended towns and cities would not be allowed, and that in any event, no enemy would wish to attract the odium of such an action. Times and values change, and sometimes very quickly indeed!
The First World War had broken out in stages, with first Austro-Hungary declaring war on Serbia on 1 August 1914, followed by Germany declaring war on Russia, and then, on 4 August, the United Kingdom and France declaring war on Germany.
War found the opposing sides using the aeroplane primarily as a means of reconnaissance. There were exceptions, even at the outset, for the Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS) had already experimented with dropping bombs and torpedoes. The popular belief is that at first, the aviators of both sides behaved in a gentlemanly fashion, even waving to each other as they passed on their regular reconnaissance sorties, and that it took some time for aerial warfare to evolve. This is true to some extent, but the fact remains that as early as 6 August 1914 the first bombing raid of the war was conducted by the German Zeppelin ZVI, which dropped 13 bombs on one of the forts defending the Belgian city of Liège, failing to hit the target, but nevertheless killing nine civilians. The Zeppelin was fired upon, and crashed on return to its base at Cologne.
It took but another week for the first aeroplane to drop bombs, when a Rumpler Taube (ironically, the name means ‘dove’) dropped two small bombs on Paris. From this time onwards, aircraft of both sides would occasionally drop bombs on enemy formations or installations, the ‘bombs’ usually being hand-held artillery shells fitted with fins, and thrown over the side of an aircraft or airship. When the first RNAS detachment arrived in France shortly after the outbreak of war, a number of its Sopwith biplanes had already been modified as bombers, with racks fitted to the side of the fuselage, described by one observer, C.G. Grey, editor of The Aeroplane, as being:
exactly like a pipe-rack fixed on the outside of the fuselage, handy for the pilot or passenger. They hung nose downwards and the stems of the bombs projected up through the holes in the pipe-rack arrangement. There a pin was stuck through each stem and rested across the hole. To the head of the pin a piece of string was tied, and when the bomber wanted to drop the bomb he pulled the string which pulled out the pin which let the stem of the bomb drop out of the pipe-rack, and the bomb fell.1
The threat was now so obvious that by September, the First Lord of the Admiralty, Winston Churchill, had volunteered the RNAS to defend the UK against attack by German Zeppelins or bombers.
Of course, the poor performance of the aircraft of the day meant that the threat was limited. On 22 September four Sopwith biplanes were sent against Cologne and Düsseldorf, where Zeppelins were known to be based. The raid on Cologne was unsuccessful because bad weather obscured the target, but one of the pilots found the main railway station, and bombed that instead. At Düsseldorf, there was better luck when the Zeppelin shed discovered there was bombed with two 20 lb bombs, destroying ZIX. This was not the first Zeppelin to be lost: two had already been destroyed over the Western Front, and another forced down in Russia. Given the small number of these craft available, the attrition rate was already appearing unsustainable. Drawing the same conclusions as the RAF would a quarter of a century later, the German Military Air Service decided to switch to night raids.
The British meanwhile pressed on with their attacks, fitting three of the new Avro 504 biplanes with mechanical bomb releases and sending them by sea and road to Belfort on the Franco–German border. On 21 November 1914 these three aircraft flew against Friedrichshafen, taking a circuitous route to make a surprise attack on the Zeppelin factory, seriously damaging one craft nearing completion, and incidentally destroying the town gasworks with a near-miss. As a result, the Germans removed troops and weapons from the front line – some 4,000 men in all – to provide anti-aircraft (AA) defences for the Zeppelin works. This in itself could be counted as a success for the bomber.
The initial air raids by the German military Air Service used the huge Zeppelin airships – here is L25 on the ground. (RAFM P146)
The largest man-made structures at the time included the airship sheds, vital to protect these lighter-than-air craft from the wind. This is L40. (RAFM P149)
The airships faced defensive measures, initially from the RNAS and then later from the RFC. This is all that remained of Zeppelin L33, which crashed at Little Wigborough in Essex. The crew of twenty-two, including Commander Becker, the captain, all survived and were made PoWs. (IWM HU54655)
The Zeppelin night raids on towns on the East Coast of England had a similar effect. The Kaiser had ordered that only military targets were to be attacked, and that civilians and buildings of historic interest should be spared – hardly practical, given that the raids were at night and from a considerable altitude. The first of these raids was in February 1915, on the port of Yarmouth, in Norfolk. Later raids attacked towns as far north as Grimsby, and many reached London, with a total of 55 Zeppelin sorties throughout the year, leaving more than 700 dead and injured. Public opinion soon forced the authorities to divert men, guns and fighter aircraft to the defence of British cities.
Meanwhile, Frederick Handley Page, the aircraft manufacturer, convinced that the heavy bomber would be the war-winning weapon of the future, pressed ahead with a design which he intended would be a ‘bloody paralyser of an aeroplane’.
Faced with the limitations of the airship, both sides were developing heavy bombers. During 1916, the RNAS had started the first concerted bombing raids on Germany. German Gotha GIV bombers made their first raids on Folkestone in early 1917, before moving on to London itself.
The Gotha GIV bomber was a twin-engined heavy bomber capable of an impressive altitude for its time, being able to reach 12,000 ft in 35 minutes, with a ceiling of 20,500 ft. This was a true strategic bomber, of the kind neglected by Germany during the Second World War. Two Mercedes DIVa six-cylinder water-cooled engines gave a maximum speed of 72 mph at 12,000 ft, and six 110 lb bombs could usually be carried. There was a nose gunner and a ‘rear’ gunner, although his position could really be described as ‘mid-upper’, being just aft of the trailing edges of the biplane mainplane.
The German Gotha bombers mounted their first major raid on London on 13 June 1917, when 20 Gotha bombers were sent against the capital, of which 17 found their way to the target to drop 6,600 lb of bombs. Attacking in broad daylight, they killed 162 civilians and injured another 432. No fewer than 92 aircraft were sent to intercept the raiders, but none of these managed to gain sufficient altitude to press home its attack, and one of them was forced down. The Gothas returned home without loss. The first true air raid on 13 June had caught the people of London unawares. Contemporary accounts tell of men and women standing, watching the huge aircraft which were no more than distant specks – even beautiful to some, with the sunlight glinting on their wings. There was no seeking shelter, no sense of imminent danger, even when they saw the leading machine fire a white flare, the signal to drop bombs.
One German crew member recalls:
With my telescope in one hand, I signal with the other to my pilot. Slowly long rows of streets pass the small orbit of the sight. At last it is time to drop. I give a signal and in less time than it takes to tell, I have pushed the levers and anxiously follow the flight of the released bombs. With a tremendous crash they strike the heart of England. It is a magnificently terrific spectacle seen from mid-air. Projectiles from hostile batteries are spluttering and exploding beneath and all around us, while below the earth seems to be rocking . . .2
The Gotha bombers attacked London and Folkestone – this is a Gotha GIII of the German MAS. (RAFM P012622)
The attack started at 11.40, and in two minutes 72 bombs dropped within one mile of the centre of the target, Liverpool Street Station in the east of the City of London. Three landed on the station, two of these crashing through the roof, one of which was a dud, while the other exploded on the platform. The most damage was caused by the third, which hit an express train about to leave for King’s Lynn and Hunstanton, wrecking the dining car and two coaches which were set on fire, trapping many of the victims inside.
The bombs were large for the day, with many in excess of 100 lb. Near Tottenham Court Road, a factory was burnt out, although generally, where there was no fire, damage was confined to the upper floors of buildings. There was more than one dud bomb, with another falling in the moat of the Tower of London, but the bomb which hit a workshop at the Royal Mint caused 34 casualties when it exploded.
Under intense political pressure, Maj Gen Trenchard, commander of the Royal Flying Corps (RFC), put two squadrons on fighter patrol over the Channel. He believed that this would simply encourage the Gothas to attack targets in France, which they did. After two weeks the patrols were stood down, and the Gothas resumed their attacks, first on Harwich and the Naval Air Station at Felixstowe on 4 July, when 18 out of 25 Gothas reached the target to drop 6,600 lb of bombs, and then, on 7 July, London.
The raid on 7 July saw 22 out of 24 aircraft reach the target, dropping 6,765 lb of bombs and killing 57 people, injuring another 193. One Gotha was shot down on this occasion, and another four crashed on landing on return to base, while two British aircraft were shot down and another was forced down. As in the Second World War, the politicians called for reprisal raids on Mannheim, although for practical reasons this had to be postponed. Meanwhile, Trenchard was told to find suitable bases for 40 long-range bomber squadrons to be based in France for attacks on German towns and cities. One US airman who had arrived in London in 1917 witnessed one of the first raids on the capital:
When we got down to the station it was already packed. We couldn’t get down to the platform so camped on a landing halfway down. The air was as foul as the Black Hole of Calcutta and those people certainly were scared. We cheered the girls up and drank the whiskey and felt better. Everyone had brought campstools and it was sure a funny sight. I hadn’t realized before how successful the raids are. It doesn’t matter whether they hit anything or not as long as they put the wind up the civilian population so thoroughly. These people wanted peace and they wanted it quickly!3
Note the difference between the GIII and the later GVII, shown here. (RAFM P2966)
There was worse to come. December 1917 saw the use of larger bombs over London, including a 9 ft long 300 kg (660 lb) bomb of considerable penetrative power, since 60 per cent of its weight consisted of high explosive. On the night of 28/29 January 1918 the Staaken R-39 (a giant bomber) dropped one of these, hitting Odham’s Printing Works in Long Acre, killing 38 Londoners seeking shelter in the basement, an officially designated public air raid shelter. Later, the first 1 ton bomb to land on England hit the North Pavilion of the Royal Hospital, Chelsea on 16 February 1918.
Before the end of the war, the Germans were planning raids using the new Elektron incendiary bomb. Had such a weapon been available a year or so earlier, it is interesting to speculate what might have been the outcome.
The heavy-bomber raids on London were far more concentrated than those of the Zeppelins. The impact on morale, the need to withdraw desperately needed units from France, and the casualties inflicted showed the clear potential for a sustained campaign. Nevertheless, the small number of aircraft available and doubtless poor availability meant that there would be no way the Gotha units could overwhelm English cities. A more concentrated effort, perhaps hitting fewer targets more often, could nevertheless have had a greater impact. While air raid shelters were made available, these were for the most part underground stations and cellars in buildings, the latter offering far less protection than the purpose-built shelters of the Second World War. Had even heavier German bombs or the Elektron bomb been available earlier, the damage would have been far worse, and the war could have been prolonged.
During 1917 the RFC squadrons in France received the new DH4 bomber, allocated to a number of squadrons, including 55 and 57 Sqns. This was regarded by many as the best bomber of the war, a fast, high-flying single-engined biplane. Observers also liked the dual controls, which gave them a sense of extra security if their pilot was injured, or worse, although one flaw was a fuel tank placed between pilot and observer, which hampered communication. Day-bombers seldom received escorts, as would be provided some twenty or more years later, but were sometimes accompanied by offensive patrols. The DH4s were expected to be able to look after themselves, using speed and altitude to escape the attentions of enemy fighters.
The DH4, usually fitted with a 375 hp Rolls-Royce Eagle engine, was a reliable aircraft for the time, but shortages meant that some were built with the inferior Farnborough 3A engine. Other engines were tried as an alternative to the 3A, including a 260 hp Fiat engine which was notably noisy. The DH4 could carry one 230 lb bomb or two 112 lb bombs.
Designed by the then Superintendent of the Royal Aircraft Factory, Capt Geoffrey de Havilland, the DH4 has been called ‘the best single-engined bomber of the war’, although many crews disliked sitting behind the engine, suffering from the oil and smoke which was swept back over them, and preferred the earlier aircraft with pusher engines. Nevertheless, by the standards of the day, the aircraft marked a step forward. The Rolls-Royce Eagle engine gave a maximum speed of 125 mph, and a maximum altitude of 16,700 ft, while earlier bombers had managed just 90 mph.
On 5 April, 55 Sqn’s DH4s were sent to bomb an assembly point at Valenciennes with 112 lb bombs. Afterwards, they were chased by a large formation of MAS Albatros scouts, but managed to outrun their opponents. Good fortune was not always on their side, however, and when four aircraft were sent on a raid on 8 April, three were shot down.
Another British bomber squadron was No. 57, whose members naturally enough called themselves the ‘Heinz Varieties’. The squadron had been operating as a fighter unit within the RFC, having been formed in 1916, operating Royal Aircraft Factory FE2B biplanes. The members of the squadron were warned in May 1917 that their role was to change, and that they were to receive the DH4 single-engined biplane bomber.
The first raid by 57 Sqn was on 15 June, when they dropped several 20 lb bombs on the German airfields at Recken and Handzame, some 15 miles behind enemy lines. Although no aircraft were lost on the raids, the squadron’s home airfield at Droglandt inflicted heavy losses and damage on the aircraft, being described as being ‘quite inadequate for the comparatively large and heavy machines’. 4
The squadron soon moved to Boisdinghem, near St Omer, which was regarded as an improvement, apart from being spoiled by ‘some depressions 18 inches deep by 15 feet in diameter’,5 which were probably hastily filled shell craters. Raids included dropping 230 lb bombs on enemy billets in the village of Hooglede on 24 and 25 September 1917, and similar raids followed later in the softening-up process preceding the first Battle of Passchendaele on 12 October. Raids were interspersed with periods of training. An innovation, at least for this squadron, came during the raid on the airfield at Bissegem on New Year’s Day 1918, when bombs were dropped on a signal from the formation leader, as was to become commonplace during the Second World War.
Not every unit could have the most up-to-date aircraft, and many laboured on with obsolete ones, or with designs which had been outclassed from the start. Aircraft design and development was still an imprecise art less than fourteen years after the first flights by the Wright brothers. Flying Sopwith 1½-Strutters on a raid against the railway junction at Tournai, one of 45 Sqn’s flight commanders declared: ‘Some say Sopwith two-seaters are bloody fine machines, but I say they’re more bloody than fine.’6
Service aviation has often produced its eccentrics and characters, and the First World War was no exception. They were probably more noticeable in a society which was more restrained and concerned with correctness, and because the British Army and the Royal Navy were often harshly disciplined. On the other hand, some of the characteristics of civilian life followed the airmen. At first, German aircraft were not commanded by the pilots, who usually acted almost as flying chauffeurs for their superiors. One RFC bomber pilot, Lt W.R. ‘Willie’ Read, had a batman (officer’s servant) who volunteered to become a Lewis gunner so that he could accompany his ‘gentleman’ on sorties. Having been a civilian valet in peacetime, he always boarded the aircraft carrying a small suitcase, ‘in case we land on the other side, sir.’7
Flying military aircraft in combat has always been dangerous, and not for the faint-hearted. During the First World War this danger was heightened not just by the poor reliability and frail structures of the aircraft, but by the authorities’ refusal to equip pilots with parachutes. True, the parachutes of the day had their failings, but the commanders’ philosophy was that providing parachutes might encourage pilots to bale out prematurely rather than stay with their aircraft. Trenchard, in command of the RFC in France and later to be the RAF’s first Chief of the Air Staff, did order 20 parachutes at one stage, but this was to drop agents in German-occupied territory, and even that plan was soon abandoned.
There were other problems. Flying at high altitude without oxygen often had adverse effects on aircrew, and the Germans were the first to fit their high-altitude aircraft with oxygen gear. Descending took some time, and great care had to be taken when throttling back the engines in case they went cold and stalled.
Military aviation was in its infancy, and in seeking to attack enemy airfields, the RFC was looking for aerial supremacy. Nevertheless, the pressures on any bomber commander to move onto other targets before the current targets had been suppressed must have been even more pressing during this conflict, due to the RFC’s subjugation to the Army.
By June 1917 the RFC had 45 squadrons in France, plus five RNAS squadrons on loan, with a total of 881 aircraft. The front around Messines had 300 of these aircraft allocated to it, including 100 fighters. Just one squadron had the DH4, No. 55, and whereas before the battle at Arras many squadrons had their complement increased to 21 or even 24 aircraft, many had reverted to 18 aircraft because of delays in delivering replacements.
The aircraft in this case were the DH4 (see pp. 6–7) and the SE5.
A product of the Royal Aircraft Factory, the SE5 was really a fighter rather than a bomber, although in this case it operated as a fighter-bomber. The twin-seat biplane was regarded as being one of the best of the war, and entered RFC service in large numbers. Propeller-synchronized Lewis guns were fitted, and Hispano-Suiza ‘V’ engines of 150 or 200 hp were used. An improved variant, the SE5a, entered service shortly before the Armistice.
Bombing included unescorted high-level raids by 55 Sqn’s DH4s, and by 27 Sqn’s Martinsydes with an escort of Sopwith Pups, both of which mounted daylight raids. Nevertheless, the most damage in the run-up to the battle for the Messines Ridge was caused by FE2bs of 100 Sqn, attacking at night. The DH4s also undertook photographic reconnaissance, flying as high as 21,000 ft, and the fighter squadrons also mounted strafing raids against ground forces. The campaign was marked by the mixture of old and new methods of warfare: 21 large mines were placed under the ridge, and of these, 19 detonated successfully at 03.10 on 7 June, with almost a million tons of high explosive, the sound being heard 130 miles away in London. Ten thousand Germans were estimated to have been killed, and another seven thousand were so badly stunned that they were easily captured. By 09.00, the Allies had taken the ridge, and a German counter-attack the following day was repulsed.
The attack by the British and French armies on the Ypres salient opened at dawn on 31 July 1917, leading to the Third Battle of Ypres. On the opening day, Lt R.A. ‘Dick’ Maybery of 56 Sqn took off at 04.45, crossing the lines at 500 ft, below heavy cloud. Smoke from the intense artillery barrage restricted his vision, so he diverted onto a south-easterly course, dropping first to 200 ft and then to 30 ft. He flew over Courtrai and on to the aerodrome at Heule. He was attacked by two Albatros fighters, at which he fired some machine gun bursts, but he had to avoid combat because of his bombload. He eventually found Heule, climbed to 200 ft and circled to find a target:
‘I then flew east, turned and came back along the line of the southernmost sheds and dropped my first bomb, which hit the third shed from the east and exploded. This caused immense excitement . . .’. Turning first to the left, he flew along the line of the easternmost sheds and dropped another bomb, which hit the first shed from the south and exploded. He next flew straight at the sheds at the town end of the aerodrome and dropped his third bomb, which went through either the roof or the door of another of the sheds: he could see smoke, and he felt and heard the explosion.8
He was attempting to drop his fourth bomb when he came under ground fire. Pulling the bomb release as he approached from the north, his bomb failed to drop. By this time he was over the town railway station, so he tried again, and the bomb dropped between a goods train and a shed, where it exploded. He then went on to strafe the aerodrome, silencing the machine-gunner who had fired at him, and making two further runs over the aerodrome before making his way to Ceurne and machine-gunning the aerodrome there. Not content with this, he machined-gunned horsemen and an infantry column before returning to base in his SE5.
This is a good example of the state of tactics and AA defences during the First World War. In the Second World War, repeated runs across enemy airfields were discouraged: each run became progressively more dangerous because AA gunners were alerted and aware of the altitude of the aircraft, so that their aim became better. To achieve what he did, ‘Dick’ Maybery showed skill and courage, and enjoyed considerable luck.
At the outbreak of the First World War in August 1914 the RFC had 100 aircraft; by November 1918 the newly created Royal Air Force (RAF) had 22,677 aircraft in 188 squadrons, half of them in France.
The RAF had been created as a result of the Smuts Report of August 1917, which recommended:
That an Air Ministry be instituted as soon as possible, consisting of a Minister with a consultative board on the lines of the Army Council or Admiralty Board, on which the several departmental activities of the Ministry will be represented. This Ministry to control and administer all matters in connection with aerial warfare of all kinds whatsoever, including lighter-than-air as well as heavier-than-air craft . . . That the Air Ministry and Staff proceed to work out the arrangements necessary for the amalgamation of the Royal Naval Air Service and the Royal Flying Corps and the legal constitution and discipline of the new air service, and to prepare the necessary draft legislation and regulations . . . That the air service remain in intimate touch with the Army and Navy by the closest liaison, or by direct representation of both on the Air Staff, and that, if necessary, the arrangements for close co-operation between the three services be revised from time to time . . . Air power can be used as an independent means of war operations. Nobody that witnessed the attack on London on 7 July, 1917, can have any doubt on that point. Unlike artillery, an air fleet can conduct extensive operations far from and independently of both Army and Navy. As far as can at present be foreseen there is absolutely no limit to the scale of its future independent war use. And the day may not be far off when aerial operations with their devastation of enemy lands and destruction of industrial and populous centres on a vast scale may become the principal operations of war, to which older forms of military operations may become secondary and subordinate.’1
The creation of an autonomous air arm for the UK was far sighted, and the RAF was the first such air force in the world. It was to take another thirty years for the USA to follow suit, with not just heated debate in the mean time, but broken careers as well, at least in the case of Billy Mitchell. The unfortunate side effect of Smuts’s recommendations was that the role of organic air power for the Army and the Royal Navy was not given its due consideration, and this was to cause many difficulties at the outset of the Second World War, with the Royal Navy having the right ships, at least on order, but lacking both high-performance carrier-borne aircraft and senior officers with a practical view of naval aviation. Nevertheless, between the wars the RAF applied itself to the creation of strategic air power in a way which was denied the Luftwaffe, and this was to be a vital element in the long, hard campaign for victory.
The new RAF had many problems from the start. Some were relatively trivial, including debate over the titles of the respective ranks. In effect, up to Air Commodore (the equivalent of a Brigadier or Brigadier-General), Royal Naval Air Service titles were used, although ‘Squadron Commander’ became ‘Squadron Leader’. At first, the title ‘Marshal of the Air’ was proposed as the equivalent of Admiral of the Fleet or Field Marshal, but King George V, who had to bear this rank as well as the corresponding Army and Navy titles, rejected it, saying that it was far too grand, so the top rank became Marshal of the Royal Air Force. Uniforms were also a problem. The first attempt, purchased by many officers hoping to impress with their enthusiasm and so secure permanent commissions, in a pale blue with gold rings, was completely impractical, and was soon replaced with the uniform which survives to this day.
Far more serious were the disputes between the Army and the Royal Navy, both of which wanted to regain control of aviation – often, one suspects in order to abolish it altogether. After the war, the RAF contracted to just 12 squadrons, partly for financial reasons, but also because the new service’s leader, Lord Trenchard, wanted to eliminate the old RNAS–RFC rivalries. There was another problem which kept the RAF weak in its early years: complacency. British defence was based for a period on the so-called Ten Year Rule, which postulated that the nation would have ten years in which to prepare for another major war.
Nevertheless, there were those who realized the dangers which lay ahead, including the strategist, Basil Liddell Hart, who wrote of the bomber and the need to be prepared in the early 1920s:
The seriousness of that threat can be gauged by comparison with the fact that during the whole of the last war only 74 tons of bombs were dropped on England by hostile aeroplanes. That quantity, dispersed in time and space, killed 857 people, wounded 2,058 and caused material damage which in monetary cost amounted to approximately £1,400,000. On such a basis of comparison, nearly a quarter of a million casualties, and over £100,000,000 worth of damage might be anticipated in the first week of a new war.’2
Liddell Hart’s influence has sometimes been exaggerated. He was not the proponent of strategic air power, but instead he believed in the Blitzkrieg principle of air and land forces (the latter suitably mechanized and equipped with tanks) fighting together.
Meanwhile, the RAF soon found itself a new role, helping to keep the peace in territories ceded to the UK by the League of Nations.
The RAF had shown that it could provide an effective role in what today would be described as ‘peace-keeping’ as early as 1919, during the Third Afghan War. Sqn Ldr Arthur Harris (later Marshal of the RAF Sir Arthur Harris), already a holder of the Air Force Cross at this time, commanded a DH9a bomber squadron, operating against dissident Afghan tribesmen, and he saw how a 20 lb bomb in the grounds of the palace of the Amir of Afghanistan deterred him from launching a war against India, then a British colony. Nevertheless, relationships with the Army were not happy. He recalled later:
a bitter reminder of what happens when air forces, or any other forces with new weapons, are put under the command of another and older service and subordinated to the use of previously existing weapons. We lacked everything in the way of necessary accommodation and spares and materials for keeping our aircraft serviceable – the only thing there was never any shortage of were demands for our services when the trouble blew up on the frontier.’ 3
In fact, Harris seriously considered resigning his much-prized permanent commission, but he was posted to Iraq in 1922 to take command of 45 Sqn.
At that time 45 Sqn was equipped with the Vickers Vernon, a development of the famous wartime Vimy, in which Alcock and Brown had made the first direct transatlantic flight in 1919. This was a large biplane with twin Rolls-Royce 360 hp Eagle engines mounted on the wing struts. A biplane tailplane was another feature. The aircraft could manage slightly over 100 mph, and as a bomber, could carry up to 2,500 lb of bombs. The Vernons were later replaced by the more powerful Victoria.
Harris quickly realized that one Vernon had the bomb-carrying capability of a whole squadron of DH9as. He had the aircraft fitted with bomb racks, and had holes cut in the noses for sighting, converting them into ‘bomber transports’ for what might now be called counter-insurgency operations, but was then known simply as ‘air control’.
After the end of the First World War, the much-reduced RAF found that one role thrust upon it was air control, using bomber-transports such as the Vickers Vernon. This Vernon MkIII, seen on the ground in Iraq while serving with either 45 or 70 Sqns, was in service as an air ambulance. (IWM HU70792)
The squadron had been employed in carrying supplies to the troops on the Kurdistan border, and bringing back casualties to Baghdad. ‘We literally took beer up to the troops’, said Flt Lt the Hon. R.A. Cochrane, one of Harris’s flight commanders, ‘and brought back casualties. But this wasn’t at all in accord with Bert Harris’s idea of what he wanted to do.’4
Air policing (or air control) seemed to work, and surprisingly, seemed to arouse little rancour among the rebels. RAF pilots who fell into rebel hands were treated with respect, and eventually returned alive, whereas ground troops were humiliated and punished, in one case being stripped naked and beaten, then left to walk back to their base, many dying along the way.
Harris took command of 45 Sqn at the time when Kemal Ataturk was forcing his way through Turkey, and having seized control of Eastern Thrace (European Turkey) and Istanbul (then still known as Constantinople), was trying to extend his share of Kurdistan by taking Mosul (now Al Mawsil) in Mesopotamia (now Iraq). Bomb racks were improvised and fitted, using designs worked on by Harris and his two flight commanders, and with the skilled assistance of the squadron’s fitters. Harris had seen the primitive methods used on the DH9a, which had a fuselage-mounted bombsight, the hand-held bomb being dropped over the side. He had a hole cut in the noses of the Vernons so that the bomb-aimer could lie down and use a simple but reasonably effective bombsight, while the bomb release system combined a trigger and a length of rubber shock absorber cord attached to the bomb release cables on the under-wing racks. Cochrane recalls:
We realized that in the heat of Mespot the Vernon, when fully loaded, could only just get off the ground and wouldn’t climb to much more than a hundred feet unless you got into an up-current. So the problem was to find the up-currents. Well, the engineering officer – a chap called Rope who was later killed in the R31 – an excellent fellow – and I developed an up-current indicator on the lines of ones we had used in airships – we had both been on airships. With a two-gallon petrol tin, some tubing and a disused turn-indicator on the instrument panel, we had what we needed. We used the petrol can with a pinhole bored in the cap as the pressure chamber and with this connected up to the instrument on the cockpit panel, up-currents were indicated by the needle. When you got into an up-current the needle went hard over. So when you took off and got to a hundred feet or thereabouts, there you stayed until the needle went hard over and indicated you were in an up-current – then you proceeded to circle, to stay in the up-current, and to climb at the same time until you were at a thousand feet or more and out of the super-heated thin air.5
Harris’s reaction was to suggest to his superiors that the Vernons should do the bombing and that the DH9a squadrons should deliver the beer! This was agreed, on condition that a bombing competition be held first. The Vernons of 45 Sqn won convincingly.
Turkey dropped its claim to Mosul, and this was ratified on 6 August 1923 under a treaty, but the unruly tribes in Mesopotamia meant a continued British presence was necessary, and it was felt that this could be exercised most economically and effectively, given the sometimes considerable distances involved, by the RAF. Harris decided that to do this effectively, the squadron would have to become experts at night operations, when the rebels might feel that they were free from attack, since even daylight operations had given the tribesmen a severe shock:
Presumably there was a more offensive role for this Vernon MkII, again of either 45 or 70 Sqns, flying over the City of the Dead, near Baghdad, in 1925 or 1926. Contrast this with the aircraft used in the Gulf War more than sixty years later. (IWM HU70794)
You could just imagine what they would think if they heard us over them in the darkness . . . ‘By Allah they can ruddy see us in the dark too’ . . . We made our own marker bombs by the simple process of screwing two pieces of bent tin on to the back of a 20 lb practice bomb, into which we clamped a white Very light. Between the clamp and the Very light we inserted a striker so that when the bomb hit the ground the Very light was detonated and shot up into the air, illuminating the surroundings for a few moments and leaving a trail of smoke from the point where it had hit. Of course, the nights were very clear out there and visibility was excellent – and we flew at only one or two thousand feet – never more than three thousand – couldn’t get higher. So . . . target finding was not too difficult . . . our crude marker bombs were very effective under those conditions.
Within a year . . . we were . . . doing active bombing by day and by night. Most of the bombing was done with baby incendiaries. We didn’t want to hurt people if we could avoid it – except for the Turks who were invaders . . . after the Turkish war it was a matter of keeping the tribes in order by air control . . . we found that by burning down their reed-hutted village, after we’d warned them to get out, we put them to the maximum amount of inconvenience without physical hurt, and they soon stopped their raiding and looting of the quieter and better behaved areas.6
Using air power to maintain control of an area has never really worked successfully on its own – the presence of troops on the ground is important. The realization of the significance of air power was prophetic, but its degree was exaggerated, as subsequent experience has shown.
Nevertheless, air power does maximize the effect of ground forces, providing reconnaissance, suppressing enemy forces, and also, in the case of an aircraft such as the Vernon, providing greater mobility for ground forces so that fewer troops are needed. In its infancy, the RAF needed campaigns such as this to show its worth, both to commanders in the field and to politicians at home. Apart from anything else, these operations helped to maintain the combat-readiness of the new service during the peacetime years.
Apart from the RAF’s operations in Afghanistan and Mesopotamia (in essence, what is now Iraq), the other three main applications of the bomber between the wars were by the Italians in Abyssinia (now Ethiopia), by the Japanese during the invasion of Manchuria, and during the Spanish Civil War. Of these campaigns, the last two were in many ways the most significant – instead of operating against tribesmen, the aircraft of both sides operated against cities and airfields as well as against ground forces. No less important, for the first time since the end of the First World War, bombers were often confronted by fighters. The Japanese operations in China were often one-sided, but in Spain both sides had the benefit of support from other European nations, with Italy and Germany sending forces to fight alongside the Nationalists, while the Republicans had support from volunteers from a number of other European nations, and the support of the Soviet Union.
The origins of the Spanish Civil War pre-dated the conflict by many years. The country had remained neutral during the First World War, but there were serious internal divisions between what might simply be described as the supporters of the status quo (the Nationalists) and anti-monarchist and anti-clerical factions, compounded by separatist movements and militant trade unionism, which found expression on the Republican side.
At the outset, both sides used a mixture of aircraft which had been in service with the nation’s armed forces, but as the war progressed, the Nationalists had German and Italian aircraft, while the Republicans had aircraft from France and the Soviet Union.
Luftwaffe fighter pilots benefited from their experience with the Legion Condor during the Spanish Civil War. They had developed a defensive formation which started with the Rotte, a pair of aircraft operating together but widely spaced, at about 200 yd, with the pilots concentrating their search towards each other, so each covered the other’s blind spots below and behind. Two Rotten created a Schwarm (‘swarm’) of four fighters, with the extremities 600 yd apart. In order to be able to maintain formation when turning, the cross-over turn was developed, which meant that the aircraft effectively reversed their positions during the turn. The next stage was the Staffel (echelon), consisting of three Schwärme, or 12 aircraft.
The Spanish Republican Government sought help from France, and although initially this was forthcoming, in due course opinions changed, and getting aircraft across the border proved difficult. Heavy deposits in French currency and then in gold were also part of the deal.
There were other problems as well, including a shortage of pilots, even though initially the balance of aircrew from the Spanish Air Force was in favour of the Government, in the ratio of 3:2. Pilots were offered a renewable monthly contract of 50,000 pesetas and life assurance of 500,000 pesetas. The problem in translating this into meaningful values is considerable, since the value of the gold peseta, used for international trade, varied wildly due to the difficult situation created by a civil war. Broadly speaking, the gold peseta was equivalent in the exchange rates of the time to 32 pesetas to the pound sterling in 1936 and 38 in 1939, or in US dollar terms (at the time the exchange rate was four US dollars to the pound sterling), the gold peseta varied from 5.18 to the dollar in 1933 to 8 in 1937 and 9.55 in 1939. The paper peseta used in everyday transactions within Spain was worth little more than half that of the gold peseta. Perhaps a better means of comparison would be with other wage rates in Spain at the time, when a Second Lieutenant in the Army earned 333 pesetas a month, while the average daily wage for a workman was just 5 pesetas. Government private soldiers received 10 pesetas per day, those of the Nationalists 3 pesetas, plus a 1.10 peseta daily supplement when engaged in combat. These figures are less slanted in favour of the Government soldier than his Nationalist counterpart than it might seem, because by 1937 the Nationalist peseta was worth twice as much as the Government peseta.
At first, deliveries of fighters in particular favoured the Government, which received large numbers of Polikarpov I-15 and I-16 fighters (known respectively as the Chato and Rata) from Russia, and soon had six squadrons of each. The I-16 was the first low-wing retractable-undercarriage fighter to enter service. By contrast, the Nationalists initially had to make do with the Heinkel He51 fighter biplane, which was outclassed by the Russian aircraft and by the Hawker Fury biplane.
The Spanish Civil War provided an opportunity for the Luftwaffe to test its new aircraft and tactics – and marked the operational debut of the much-feared Junkers Ju87 Stuka dive-bomber. (IWM HU24780)
The arrival of the Condor Legion of volunteers from Germany only partly changed this imbalance, since its equipment included He51s as well as the new Messerschmitt Me109B. In mid-1937, the Legion had two squadrons of He51s and one of Me109Bs in Combat Group J-88, while Bomber Group K-88 had two squadrons of Junkers Ju52s, effectively ‘bomber-transports’, and one of the new Heinkel He111B. A reconnaissance squadron, A-88, had a number of Heinkel He70s and Dornier Do17Fs, while a small squadron, VB-88, used Henschel Hs123 dive-bombers. There were also a number of seaplanes, some Junkers Ju52 transports, and seven anti-aircraft batteries. Contrary to popular belief, few Ju87 Stukas served in Spain, with just five making a brief appearance and being repatriated by the Germans at the end of the conflict.
The Government had 13 fighter squadrons, 6 of these having Russian pilots flying Ratas and another 7 with Chatos, of which 3 were flown by Spanish pilots. Against them, the Nationalists had 11 squadrons, with 10 operating Fiat CR32s, and another operating Me109Bs. Both sides had obsolete types, such as the Government’s Dewoitines, Letovs, Bristol Bulldogs and Nieuport Delage ND52s, and the Nationalists’ He51s. The Nationalists later obtained a number of Heinkel He112Bs, which had been developed as a rival to the Me109 but were rejected by the Luftwaffe, leaving Heinkel to seek export customers.
For the most part, the bomber units operated obsolete aircraft. The Government had Potez 54s and Marcel Bloch MB210s, and its modern aircraft were what was regarded as a substantial force of 31 Tupolev SB-2s (sometimes designated ANT-40) Katiuskas, a light twin-engined bomber. The Nationalists had Junkers Ju52s and Savoia-Marchetti SM81s, both effectively obsolescent ‘bomber-transports’, while for modern aircraft they had a squadron with 12 He111Bs and another of SM79 trimotor bombers. Both sides had Fokker FVIIs and de Havilland Dragon Rapides pressed into service as bombers.
The statistics tell little of the real story, for it was the Nationalists who consistently used air power and who always managed to have air power over the front at any one time, much to the lamentations of many senior Government army officers. As the war progressed, many Government aircraft fell into Nationalist hands, and the better types were given fresh markings and designations.
The bomber played a significant role during the war, most notably – and notoriously – in the bombing of the Basque stronghold of Guernica. The Nationalists long maintained that Guernica was not destroyed by bombers, but by ‘incendiarists’, effectively maintaining a scorched-earth policy of destruction before retreating. Nevertheless, it does seem that the town was damaged by bombers, since there is no mention anywhere of a heavy artillery bombardment. No one has ever admitted to flying on the raid, and to this day there is no official record to show whether the bombing was by Spanish or Condor Legion aircraft, or a mixture of both. In fact, one oddity of the conflict is that the published accounts centre on the fighter pilots, with nothing from bomber aircrew, despite the fact that the role of the Ju52/3m bomber transport in particular was significant, including the movement of Spanish Foreign Legion troops from Spanish North Africa to Spain early in the war.
We have two accounts of aerial combat during the conflict. The first of these concerns the major Nationalist push in the north of Spain during summer and autumn 1937. During this campaign, Government forces mounted a major attack on the town of Belchite, to the south-east of the city of Zaragoza and close to the provincial border between Zaragoza and Teruel. On this occasion, the Government forces enjoyed overwhelming superiority, placing the Nationalists on the defensive, yet achieved little. As the Nationalists advanced, the situation of the Government forces became increasing desperate. Francisco Tarazona flew a Polikarpov I-16 Rata (known to the Government as ‘Moscas’) fighter during the campaign, commanding the remnants of a squadron, and recalled his experiences in his book, Sangre en el Cielo (‘Blood in the Sky’). He remembers flying to the front in the remnants of two much-depleted squadrons with just eight I-16 Moscas between them instead of their offical establishment of eighteen aircraft each.
Their mission was described as doing ‘a little bit of everything’,7 by which he meant that they must first escort the I-15 Chatos to the front line for a series of strafing machine-gun attacks, after which the Moscas themselves were to attack in support of a stranded army unit. While they were covering the Chatos, they were caught by a strong force of Condor Legion aircraft, which Tarazona managed to spot while they were about 6,000 ft above his unit, although at first he was not sure whether they were facing Messerschmitts or Heinkels. Realizing that they were about to be attacked, the Republicans formed a defensive position, flying in a large circle so that each aircraft was protecting the tail of the one in front, making it difficult for the Condor Legion aircraft to attack without falling into the Republican line of fire.
The Germans were too quick for them, however, as two Messerschmitts dived over to one side of the formation before it was completely formed, causing it to break up as three of the Republican aircraft chased after them, while three Heinkels chased after the third aircraft and shot it down:
The battle begins in earnest. The Messerschmitts attack Eloy and myself. Another is already behind Frutos. Looking ahead I can see two white trails which serve as a guide. Suddenly I feel my aircraft shudder violently, on turning my head I am nearly face to face with a yellow painted Messerschmitt about 200 feet from my tail. I flick into a sharp turn and push the stick right forward, diving as steeply as possible to avoid him. I manage to escape.
I look for my companions, to see a Mosca being chased by two Heinkels which are already breathing down his neck. I make for the nearest one and open fire. On seeing my first shots he abandons his attack . . .
I have very little fuel left, largely because of the full engine fire used in combat. I decide to make for home and look for someone to accompany me. I make contact finally with six other machines, a mixture of Chatos and Moscas . . . others are not to be seen anywhere.
[The nearest airfield had been bombed, so the surviving aircraft headed for their main base, but again, they found that this had also been bombed so badly that landing was impossible.] The fuel gauge tells me that we have barely enough fuel to fly for fifteen minutes . . . I have no option but to . . . go to Colunga. I turn my Mosca and the others follow. Huerta overtakes and points to where Sardina is trying to land on the road . . . Only Huerta and myself land at Colunga, together with a Chato . . .8
The second account is from the Nationalist side, and is by one of the great aces of the war, Joaquin Garcia Morato, who managed the rare achievement of flying no fewer than 30 aircraft types during the war, although out of his wartime total of 1,012 hours (he had already flown 1,860 hours by the outbreak of the conflict), he flew 784 hours in the Fiat CR32. He is credited with having made 511 wartime operational sorties, which involved 56 fighter combats, during which he is supposed to have shot down no fewer than 40 of his opponents. At the time of his account, mid-1938, he was in command of the second Fiat CR32 fighter group,3-G-3, later becoming leader of the fighter squadron, holding this position until his death in battle on 4 April 1939, shortly before the end of the war.
On 25 June Morato flew his Fiat on a reconnaissance flight, alone, although it was usual for the CR32s to be flown in pairs. During his flight, he discovered a large force of some fifty enemy machines, which failed to see him. Unconcerned by the heavy odds against him, he took them by surprise, shooting two aircraft down in flames before they realized what was happening:
I was flying my faithful 3-51, completely alone, making a reconnaissance sortie over the front. Nothing in particular had happened when, suddenly, I saw the enemy air force appear; sweeping towards our lines was a mass of more than fifty aircraft, a mixture of fighters and bombers.
I quickly made up my mind. It was an unequal battle which I had every chance of losing, but I couldn’t just sit back and let them attack our troops without trying to do something to stop it. Tactically speaking I should have avoided combat, since I was at a lower altitude than my adversaries, but this was impossible.
In fact, the speed with which I reacted allowed me to profit by the tactical disadvantage of lower altitude for, choosing a favourable moment, I attacked the bombers from below, so that they screened my aircraft from the higher flying fighters. Before they or the bomber pilots were aware of an enemy in their midst two aircraft were falling in flames. The remaining machines, thinking they were being attacked by a large number of aircraft, scattered all over the sky . . . The invisible enemy, of which they had seen neither the arrival or departure, had already gone.9
The Spanish Civil War was a modern, fluid war, with front lines changing and air power being deployed mainly tactically, but on occasion, strategically as well. Tactics developed during this conflict were to stand the Axis powers in good stead at the outset of the Second World War. On the other hand, many of the operations were conducted with relatively small numbers of aircraft, and more effective opposition could have resulted in many offensive operations failing.
In 1921 the Italian General Giulio Douhet published his book, The Command of the Air