Chapter 1
In the Beginning
The British Army was the first of the British armed services to take to the air with the Royal Engineers forming a balloon section at Woolwich as early as 1878. The advantage of being able to rise above the surface had been appreciated almost from the earliest days of the balloon age, which began in 1783 with the invention of both the hot-air balloon, or Mongolfiere, and the hydrogen balloon, or Charliere. By 1794, the French Army was using a balloon at the Battle of Maubeuge, with the balloons, or aerostat, giving the user the advantage previously only conferred by holding the high ground. It took some time for the true value of the balloon, or aerostat, to be fully appreciated, and the early commanders had to drop notes to the ground so that their forces could make use of this intelligence.
One can discount the use of a coal barge, the G.W. Parke-Curtiss, as a transport to carry and tow observation balloons for the Unionist Army during the American Civil War, as an early maritime use of the balloon. In the same way, the use of small balloons, unmanned, to carry messages from HMS Assistance in 1856, while searching in the Canadian Arctic for the ill-fated expedition led by Sir John Franklin, was imaginative, but not a true naval use of the technology, such as it was.
The fact was that navies were far slower to make use of the balloon. The reasons for this were practical rather than any lack of imagination or an excess of conservatism. Not only was there less need for a balloon on a warship at sea, with lookouts posted in its masts and later gunnery direction platforms high above the rest of the superstructure, there were problems with the balloon itself. The simple balloon, regardless of whether it was hot air or hydrogen, could only be used at sea, even when tethered, in flat calm conditions with the ship not under way, and therefore a sitting duck. It was not until the arrival of the airship, or dirigible, pioneered in Germany by Zeppelin and in France by the Lebaudy brothers, that a practical means of using aeronautics at sea could be realized with aerostats that could be powered and steered.
The first senior officer to appreciate the opportunities and threats that the air posed was Admiral of the Fleet Sir John ‘Jacky’ Fisher, who was First Sea Lord from 1904 to 1910. It was Fisher who famously predicted that the future of naval warfare lay under the waves and above them. By this, Fisher meant the airship. While the Wright brothers had made their first flights in December 1903, it was not until 1908, when they demonstrated their invention first to the United States Army and Navy at Fort Myers, Virginia, and then brought it to Europe, that their achievement was widely recognized, even though a United States Coast Guard sufman had been present at their first flight, and had even taken a photograph of it for the brothers. The airship was showing its potential during the first decade of the twentieth century, while the aeroplane was frail and at first more of a novelty or plaything.
The USN was slow off the mark. Meanwhile the estimates for the Royal Navy in 1909 included £35,000 for the purchase of an airship, and the Admiralty tender for HMA.1 (His Majesty’s Airship No. 1) was signed on 7 May. This marked the start of the race amongst navies to get into the air, with France, the United States, Imperial Russia, Sweden, Japan, Germany, Norway and then Denmark, all buying or, in the case of Sweden and Norway, being presented with, aircraft during the next few years. By 1913, even Brazil had aircraft for naval use and, the following year, Greece was doing the same, with British assistance.
It shouldn’t be thought that the British were content with an airship. During the early days of aviation, it was the Royal Aero Club that issued pilots’ licences, not the government, and in 1910, the Royal Aero Club put two Short biplanes, based at Eastchurch on the Isle of Sheppey, at the disposal of the Royal Navy for any naval officers who wished to learn to fly. When young officers seemed backward in taking advantage of this opportunity, that December the Commander-in-Chief at the Nore, Admiral Sir C.C. Drury, drew the attention of his officers to the availability of the aircraft, describing them as ‘biplanes of the most modern type, fitted with Gnome motors’, adding that they were available ‘at all times and without charge’. The only conditions were that any damage be repaired at the cost of the pilot concerned, and that those using them become members of the Royal Aero Club.
It is easy to overlook Drury’s intervention. Naval aviation histories so often point out the way in which senior officers, even as late as the 1930s, thought it a kindness to discourage bright young officers from becoming involved in aviation, and not just in the Royal Navy but in others as well, including the Imperial Japanese Navy. Drury was the exception.
As a further incentive, before the year was out, King George V approved an Order in Council giving a daily allowance to naval airmen of six shillings for officers and half-a-crown for chief petty officers, petty officers and leading seamen, while able seamen received two shillings. It is perhaps reassuring that flying pay was available from the beginning!
Nevertheless, aviation medicine was clearly in its infancy, as The Lancet, then as now a leading British medical journal, ran an article on the blood pressure of airmen, suggesting that they keep to a low and steady altitude. Others also had concerns, with a correspondent for the new magazine, Flight, warning against shooting at aeroplanes as they flew over in case the crew decided to drop a bomb – clearly someone who had got cause and effect badly muddled.
Nevertheless, amidst this interest in aeronautics, there was a big disappointment for the Royal Navy. Its first airship, HMA.01 was finally completed at Barrow-in-Furness, but appeared to be too heavy to be successful. Workers quickly set about lightening the structure of the craft, which had been named Mayfly, but the lightened structure collapsed, breaking almost in two halfway along the airship, as she was moved outside her shed on 24 September 1911. It was not until 27 November 1916 that the RNAS had its first successful rigid airship, R9.
Some Royal Navy officers must have been attracted to flying, or at least tempted by the King’s six shillings, for on 25 April 1911, the service received the first four pilots from Eastchurch. These were Lieutenants Arthur Longmore, R. Gregory and Charles Rumney Samson, all RN, and Lieutenant E.L. Gerrard of the Royal Marine Light Infantry.1 Some idea of the spirit which these young men possessed was that at the time the Royal Aero Club had issued just fifty-five pilots’ certificates, suggesting that almost 8 per cent of British aviators were members of the Royal Navy and Royal Marines! These were the first, but others soon followed. One of these was Sub Lieutenant F.E.T. Hewlett, who had been taught to fly by his mother, who seems to have been a woman of considerable character since she flew in bad weather wearing sabots, a type of wooden clog.
Naturally, the Royal Navy was not the only service interested in aviation, as we have already seen. In mid-November 1910, Lieutenant Eugene Ely of the United States Navy had taken off from a wooden platform built over the forecastle of the light cruiser USS Birmingham as she lay at anchor, while in January 1911, he landed on the cruiser USS Pennsylvania as she too lay at anchor, and took off later to fly back to his base at Selfridge Field. His landing had been helped by a primitive arrester wire system, with wires strung across the landing platform and kept in place by 100-lb sandbags at each end. Meanwhile in Italy, before the end of 1911, Captain Claudio Piomatti produced a paper on the role of the aeroplane in naval warfare.
The pace of development was indeed accelerating. In 1908, the aeroplane was a spectacle, an amusement and something of awe, but by 1911 it was beginning to grow up and show that it could have a practical benefit. In France, there were experiments with float-gliders, but it was in the United States in 1911 that Glenn Curtiss built the first practical floatplane, which he flew for the first time on 26 January 1911 at San Diego, California. The following year, he used this aircraft as the basis for the first flying boat, but he had a rival, Denhout, in France, who that same year also built and flew the successful Donnet-Leveque flying boat. Curtiss continued his work on flying boats up to the outbreak of the First World War in Europe. He was assisted by a retired Royal Navy officer, Lieutenant Commander J.C. Porte, and together they designed the large twin-engined biplane flying boat America, which was sold to the Royal Naval Air Service in 1914.
Meanwhile, in a display of private initiative, Lieutenant (later Commander) Oliver Schwann RN bought an aeroplane privately, and fitted it with floats and gas bags to make a water take-off in November 1911. This was no light venture as, given the knowledge of the day, he could so easily have lost his aeroplane, or even his life. One of the original four Eastchurch graduates, Lieutenant Arthur Longmore, flew a Short S27 biplane fitted with airbags onto the River Medway on 1 December, and was able to take off again.
Longmore was the most successful of the original Eastchurch graduates, transferring to the Royal Air Force on its formation and eventually attaining the rank of air chief marshal. On 28 July 1914, at Calshot near the mouth of Southampton Water, already a squadron commander, he made the first drop of a standard naval torpedo while flying a Short Folder seaplane. The torpedo was carried on an improvised rack between the seaplane’s floats.
Another of Longmore’s group at Eastchurch, Lieutenant Charles Romney Samson, had the distinction of making the first take-off from a British warship. Wednesday, 10 January 1912 dawned grey and misty, but the mist began to clear in the late morning, making flying possible. At noon, Samson climbed into the same Short S27 used by Longmore the previous December and flew from the airfield at Eastchurch to land at Cockleshell Hard. On landing, the plane was manhandled onto a lighter, to which it was secured, and then towed by a pinnace to the battleship HMS Africa, moored in Sheerness Harbour, whose derrick lifted the aircraft onto the launching platform, which consisted of planks running from the top of ‘A’ turret down to the bows. At 14.20, with the ship still moored, the S27’s 50-hp Gnome rotary engine was started and the aircraft started its run forward down the platform, before starting to climb away from it. Once in the air, Samson flew over the destroyer HMS Cherwell before turning back to fly over Africa, and then along the River Medway to the village of West Minster at an altitude of some 800 feet on his way back to Eastchurch. Samson’s S27 was fitted with airbags in case an emergency landing in the Medway was necessary, and one senior officer present, Admiral E.H. Seymour maintained that he was ‘heartened’ by the ability of the frail aircraft to land on the water without sinking.
During the early years of the twentieth century, the Royal Navy held regular naval reviews, in marked contrast to more recent years. The 1912 Annual Naval Review was held off Portland in early May and the Royal Navy took no less than four aircraft to the review: two Short biplanes, a Deperdussin monoplane and a Nieuport. One of the Short biplanes had been converted by Samson into a hydroaeroplane by the simple expedient of fitting it with three torpedo-shaped floats, and naming it HMS Amphibian. Being Samson, there can be little doubt that this was done without reference to the Admiralty Ships’ Names Committee! Official support was not lacking, however, as the battleship HMS Hibernia had a ramp constructed forward for the launching of landplanes, and was also formally referred to as a hydroaeroplane mother vessel. As for the airmen, they showed a flare for showmanship as well as airmanship that must have done much to raise the profile of naval aviation.
Needless to say, the flying was started by none other than Samson. He took off from Portland in his ‘HMS’ Amphibian and flew over the fleet which was lying at anchor. What really delighted the onlookers, however, was when the newly promoted Captain Gerrard RMLI took off with a young lady as passenger. They might have been even more delighted, or even impressed, had they known that the young lady was none other than the daughter of the C-in-C, Admiral Callaghan. Compared to this piece of showmanship, and courage on the part of the admiral’s daughter, flights by Lieutenant Grey in both the Nieuport and Deperdussin, and that by Longmore in his trusty S27, were dull routine.
Towards the end of the review, Samson used Amphibian to carry a messenger with a letter for King George V, landing alongside the Royal Yacht Victoria and Albert, with the messenger transferring from the aircraft in a dinghy. As a further demonstration of the capabilities of the aeroplane, while Samson was delivering his messenger, Lieutenant Grey flew past the Victoria and Albert at 500 feet and dropped a 300-lb dummy bomb at a safe distance. He then flew past the battleship HMS Neptune, but suddenly dived, causing considerable alarm amongst those watching, pulling out just 20 feet above the sea. There was no need for alarm, however, as Grey had simply spotted one of the Royal Navy’s then small fleet of submarines, submerged at periscope depth.
From the practical aspect, the most significant achievement at Portland was Samson making the first flight from a ship under way, flying an S27 from Hibernia’s ramp while the battleship steamed at 10½ knots into the wind in Weymouth Bay – an event watched by His Majesty who invited Samson to dine with him aboard the royal yacht at the end of the review. Media interest in the armed forces was considerably greater than today and there were many journalists present throughout the review. ‘Good, good, but we shall do better,’ they quoted Samson as saying.
Into the Royal Flying Corps
The Committee for Imperial Defence (CID) set up an Air Committee as early as April 1912, and the need for coordination and strengthening of Britain’s air services was clearly in mind, for, after such a bold start, it seems almost an anti-climax that the Royal Navy’s aviation wing was then merged into the Royal Flying Corps, formed in May 1912. The RFC had a Naval Wing and a Military Wing, but it was not an autonomous air service as it was controlled by the War Office, the department of state for the British Army. This provoked a reaction from the Admiralty which was concerned that its interests should be protected, even though the merger was intended to strengthen and coordinate British service aviation. The RFC was not without some benefit to the naval airmen, however, as squadron commanders, flight commanders and flying officers now received an extra eight shillings a day – generous money for the time. For those who learnt to fly privately, there was a grant of £75, and on agreeing to transfer from the Royal Navy or the Army into the RFC, there was a grant of £40 towards the cost of special clothing. By April 1913, the first ten naval officers had qualified as pilots. These were all volunteers who had to be at least the rank of lieutenant in the RN, or captain or a lieutenant in the RM, with two years’ or more service in the rank, and subject to the approval of their commanding officers. The courses were also open to RNR or RNVR officers, with preference given to those who had undergone a period of training in a warship or naval establishment. Those awarded the sum of £75 for private instruction were informed that it was liable to be repaid if they left the service within four years, and, subject to prior approval, they would receive full pay with lodging and other allowances. Once qualified, naval airmen were liable to be allocated to airships or aeroplanes as required, and had no choice in the matter.
Despite War Office control, when the RFC opened its Central Flying School at Upavon on Salisbury Plain, the first commandant was a naval officer, Captain G.M. Paine. Nevertheless, there were rumblings of discontent at the Admiralty. The creation of a distinct naval aviation service was largely at the instigation of Captain Murray Sueter, first inspecting captain of naval aviation and at the time Director Air Department, Admiralty, who wrote a paper dated 24 February 1914.
In looking forward to what would become the Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS), the conditions of service were once again considered. It was first proposed that officers were to have one year’s seagoing experience in a commissioned rank, and would not be away from the fleet for more than four years. Ratings were also expected to have seagoing experience early in their service and certainly before attaining the rank of petty officer. In practice, many of these requirements were later dropped, so that on its formation civilians could join.
By July 1914, Admiralty documents were discussing a Royal Naval Air Service, but strictly speaking it remained part of the RFC until after Churchill had left the Admiralty in 1915. Nevertheless, all army airships were transferred in 1914 to the RFC’s Naval Wing.
Storm Clouds Gather
Meanwhile, the storm clouds were gathering over Europe, with the British and German navies engaged in an unspoken but nevertheless effective arms race. The service that had once been established as the equivalent of any other two navies in the world had effectively relinquished its lead when the new battleship HMS Dreadnought had made all other capital ships obsolete. As the British government dithered over whether defence or welfare reform should have priority for expenditure, the Admiralty struggled for the funds for the ships it needed. In the end, it boiled down to which nation had the superior shipbuilding capacity and, fortunately at the time, the United Kingdom was the world’s leading shipbuilder. The debate over whether welfare or defence should have priority had been given an edge by the rumblings of discontent in a number of countries, especially Russia.
Just months after the 1912 fleet review at Portland, the fears of those who foresaw war with Germany were heightened by a new threat. The German airship L.1, commanded by none other than its designer, Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin, made a record 1,000-mile flight from its base at Friedrichshafen, ascending at 08.35 on Sunday, 13 October, and arriving at Johannisthal, near Berlin, on Monday, 14 October at 15.43. This was a notable achievement in itself, but more to the point, it raised a hue and cry in England because it was claimed that the L.1 was heard over Sheerness during the night. Questions were even asked in Parliament. No one had heard the Zeppelin – they only thought that they had done so – but the threat posed by these large craft was all too obvious.
The real problem was that the British were having some difficulty in building a true rival to the German Zeppelins. On returning to the Admiralty as First Sea Lord during the first winter of the First World War, the redoubtable ‘Jacky’ Fisher, by this time Baron Fisher of Kilverstone, found that the Royal Navy had toyed with the idea of inserting balloonets into an airship envelope and putting the fuselage and engine of a Royal Aircraft Factory BE2c under the envelope, creating non-rigid airships. When Fisher demanded to know how quickly a prototype could be completed, he was told three weeks. The maiden ascent of the first, SS-1 (for Submarine Scout 1) was on 18 March 1915, at Kingsnorth on the River Medway. Encouraged by this, Fisher demanded forty such airships. This was a tall order for what was not only a new technology, but also a new industry, but by the following year, sixteen airships were in service. The SS series were not the only RNAS airships, and on 31 May 1915, the first coastal patrol airship, C1, made her maiden ascent.
Earlier, starting in 1912, a chain of seaplane stations was being built, with the first on the Isle of Grain on the other side of the Medway Estuary from Sheerness. The following year, the light cruiser HMS Hermes was converted to act as a seaplane carrier for the 1913 naval review. Although Hermes was later converted back to her original form, a collier was converted to take her place and named HMS Ark Royal. The conversion of these two ships was caused by the arrival of the new Short Folder biplane, the first to have wings that would fold (albeit backwards) so that the aircraft could be stowed inside a hangar aboard a ship.
When formed on 1 July 1914, the Royal Naval Air Service had no less than fifty-two seaplanes and flying boats, thirty-nine landplanes and six (soon to be increased to seven) airships, as well as 828 officers and men – not many given the number of aircraft. There were some differences between the uniform of the RNAS and that of the Royal Navy, with an eagle replacing the anchor on badges and buttons, as well as on epaulettes and sword belts. The pilots’ wings were also moved from the chest to the cuff, with commissioned pilots having them above the executive curl. The Central Air Office was the heart of the RNAS, and in August 1914 it was headed by Wing Commander Francis Scarlett, who was the Inspecting Captain of Aircraft.
By July 1914, there were six naval air stations: at Dundee, Calshot on Southampton Water, the Isle of Grain, Felixstowe, Fort George and Great Yarmouth; there was also a naval flying school at Eastchurch on the Isle of Sheppey. There was an airship section at Farnborough, still shared with the RFC until the RNAS assumed responsibility for all airships, and an active station at Kingsnorth on the River Medway. The practice adopted later of giving all naval air stations ships’ names so that they had dual designation, as with, for example, RNAS Lee-on-Solent, HMS Daedalus, had still to be adopted, but for all administrative purposes these units and their personnel were on the books of HMS Pembroke at Chatham.
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