Another military expert of high repute, speaking of the havoc that a hostile air-fleet might work, by an attack upon the Thames Valley between Hammersmith and Gravesend, has observed: "This whole fifty miles of concentrated essence of Empire lies at the absolute mercy of an aerial machine, which could plant a dozen incendiary missiles in certain pre-selected spots."
The point to be considered, in this connection, is this: such an aerial attack is no longer a vague possibility. It was only the other day, while discussing the destructive capabilities of modern-type aeroplanes, that a famous constructer showed how—if a large fleet of machines was marshalled together—it would be possible for an enemy to drop a couple of hundred tons of explosive matter upon London, suddenly appearing from across the Channel by air, and as flying quickly back again.
[Illustration: TRANSPORT OF WAR AEROPLANES Photo, M. Roe. In the manner depicted above—and also by means of motor lorries—were military aeroplanes transported from point to point during the French manœuvres.]
What such an aerial attack as this would mean has been pictured by Lord Montagu of Beaulieu. Suppose London was thus assailed, from the air, at the beginning of a war, he says: What would the result be? Imagine the Stock Exchange, the chief banks, the great railway stations, and our means of communication destroyed. "Such a blow at the very heart of the Empire," declares Lord Montagu, "would be like paralysing the nerves of a strong man, with a soporific, before he had to fight for his life: the muscular force would remain, but the brains would be powerless to direct."
When delivering an attack upon a city, a squadron of aeroplanes engaged in such work would, declare military experts who have specially studied the problem, probably sweep over the principal buildings in a long line, dropping bombs as they flew. Then they would wheel round, and return over the same area, again releasing a certain number of missiles. The disastrous effect of such an aerial bombardment, carried out systematically by a large number of machines, may readily be imagined.
Although, as has been mentioned, German experimental work, regarding the value of aeroplanes for punitive work, has been kept very secret, the result of one interesting test, at least, has become known. In this case, a squadron of dragoons was specially employed to give realism to the experiment.
The squadron was directed to move a certain distance away from one of the German air-stations, and then camp for the night. This was done. Then two army airmen, flying biplanes, set off to deliver a night attack upon the encampment. Beneath their machines, they carried a bomb-dropping apparatus such as has already been described.
Locating the bivouac by its fires, the two airmen stopped their engines, and planed down silently from a considerable altitude. Neither of the aeroplanes was seen, by the dragoons, until it was right over them. Then the attacking airmen released a stream of dummy bombs, which fell all about the camp-fires. Immediately they had done so, and before the dragoons had recovered from their surprise, the pilots started their engines, and disappeared again into the darkness.
Seeing that it was purely experimental, and that neither officer-airmen was skilled in such work, the result of this mock attack was surprising. Had actual war conditions prevailed, and had the bombs been real ones, death would have been scattered through the bivouac, the horses would probably have stampeded, and a general scene of confusion would have ensued.
And this is a most important point: so swift and unexpected was the night attack that the machines only came into view just at the moment they were releasing their bombs. This would probably have meant that, in warfare, they would have escaped without an effective shot being fired at them.