As has always been the case, and no doubt always will be, the outbreak of hostilities was the signal for an epidemic of inventions. Men who had never before interested themselves either in war, or in that particular department of science to which their ideas belong, and in spite of or perhaps because of an entire ignorance of the subject, inundated the authorities with so-called inventions which were so much waste of time to all concerned.
In this connection it is interesting to turn to a volume of “Abridgements of Specifications relating to Fire-arms and Other Weapons,” published by the Patent Office in 1859. The preface contains the following remarks: “It is worthy of notice that a very large proportion of the so-called inventions of the present day are, in fact, old contrivances, sometimes modified and adapted to modern requirements, but very often identical with what has been tried and abandoned as useless long ago. From the year 1617 down to the end of the year 1852, not more than about 300 patents were granted for inventions relating to fire-arms. When the war with Russia broke out the Patent Office was inundated with applications for Letters Patent for similar inventions, and about 600 have since been actually granted. Of these it may be safely said that five-sixths of the applications related to old contrivances which have been patented over and over again.”
Many of these inventions recall a story of the Duke of Wellington, who was examining a steam rocket invented and patented by a Jacob Perkins in 1824. This device consisted of an iron case with a stick like that of a rocket. The case was filled with water and had a fusible metal plug at the base. The case was heated, and when the plug melted the generated steam escaped and impinging on the air drove forward the projectile. The absurdity of the idea is too obvious to need discussion. The Duke carefully examined it, and after asking many questions, remarked: “If this had been invented first and gunpowder afterwards, what a capital improvement gunpowder would have been.”
The great war saw these “inventions” multiplied a thousand-fold. The spread of education, the availability of books from which at least a smattering of any subject could be obtained, and from the increase both in quality and quantity of newspaper news a consequent closer knowledge of what was happening—all these factors helped to add to the crop of ideas. In many cases undoubtedly these ideas were elaborated and worked out by the inventor, adopted by the authorities, and proved of the highest value. These cases were, however, greatly in the minority, and were generally the work of one who had at least some pre-knowledge of his subject. Such a man was the late Wing-Commander F. A. Brock, R.N.A.S., of whom it can be said without fear of contradiction no one man did more for military pyrotechny during the great war, and possibly in no other single subject during the war was one man so invaluable.
Born in 1884, educated at Dulwich, he entered the firm of C. T. Brock and Co. in 1901, where he remained until the outbreak of war. Endowed with a marked inventive ability and a phenomenal memory, and brought up as it were in an atmosphere of pyrotechny, he developed a knowledge of pyrotechnic chemistry which was extraordinary and appeared almost instinctive.
A naval correspondent, writing in “The Navy,” speaks of him as follows: “From H2O to WO2 they knew all about it, or thought they did until the wayward genius of the Commander, who never pretended to be a chemist, taught them that there were permutations and combinations to the nth degree that they had never dared to think of.
WING-COMMANDER FRANK ARTHUR BROCK, R.N.A.S.
Killed at Zeebrugge, April 23rd, 1918.
“Wing-Commander Brock’s great secret was originality. To the accepted formula he would add just a touch of the unexpected. The chemists would say it can’t be done, or it wouldn’t work. Sometimes it did not, but often it did, very nearly. And Brock’s pioneer brain touched it a bit more—and lo! the impossible and the unexpected had arrived.”
During his connection with the firm he had travelled over a large portion of the world on its behalf. His experience at a comparatively early age in organising and carrying out large displays—where the safety of thousands of spectators is in the hands of the directing mind—no doubt did much to develop those qualities of self-reliance and self-confidence which were so marked a characteristic of his Service career.