The aviators on this occasion were Squadron-Commander Spencer-Grey and Flight-Lieutenants Marix and Sippe, all belonging to the Royal Navy. The last-named had trouble with his engine shortly after starting and had to drop out, but the remaining two rushed along through the growing light—the start had been made at the first streak of dawn—Grey making for Cologne and Marix for Düsseldorf. There was a good deal of fog, which, while it served them to a certain extent by concealing their approach, at the same time made it no easy job to steer a correct course. Travelling at 80 miles an hour Grey reached Cologne, but had no luck. Owing to the fog he was unable to locate the Zeppelin shed of which he was in search, and would not drop a bomb without a definite and legitimate objective, for fear of harming women and children. He, however, was able to do some damage to the railway station.

As for Marix, he found his way to the shed already struck by Collet. Rising to a great height, he made a spiral dive at the tremendous speed of 140 miles an hour. He had been seen some time before, and was greeted with a tremendous fusillade from machine-guns, anti-aeroplane guns, and rifles. His machine was struck several times, but he descended to within 500 feet of the shed to which a Zeppelin had been recently removed from that damaged by Collet, let go his bombs, and shot upwards again with marvellous velocity. As he went he saw that at least one of his projectiles had scored a success, for a volcano of flame was spouting 500 feet into the air. There was one Zeppelin the less. His "mount" had been hit no less than twenty times and two of his control-wires cut, but by the exercise of great judgment and skill he contrived to travel for 10 miles on his way back and to get across the frontier, where he was met by a Belgian car and taken safely to Antwerp.

A correspondent of the Globe who was at Düsseldorf at the time gives the following account of what an eyewitness saw of Flight-Lieutenant Marix's exploit and its effect. "A friend of mine saw an aeroplane one day near Düsseldorf. He followed its movements with great anxiety, and saw that it dropped when it was close by the Zeppelin shed. He had an idea that something was wrong, but about 200 metres from the ground the machine turned again and disappeared. Almost at the same moment he heard two explosions, and a few moments after saw big flames of a light colour, giving him the impression that the whole shed was on fire. My friend went down to the place as quickly as he could, but at a distance of a few hundred metres the people who had already run to the spot were kept away by a ring of soldiers. A few minutes later a rumour spread through the crowd that two more enemy aeroplanes were reported from Cologne, and immediately all the soldiers were ordered near the shed to be ready for firing at the new-comers. My friend followed the soldiers, and came quite near the place where he had seen the flames. He saw that the contents of the shed had been entirely burnt out, and only the walls of the building were erect. In the shed was the carcass of a Zeppelin, burned and broken to pieces. It was one big heap of aluminium."

The next exploit of the Naval Air Service was the attack on the Zeppelin sheds at Friedrichshafen, on the Lake of Constance. There are three or four big sheds here close together, with workshops and all appliances for building and fitting out these monster air-ships. The newspapers had for some time previously been publishing paragraphs giving accounts of Zeppelin experiments at this place. Some may have been more or less correct, while others bore the stamp of the usual "bogey-bogey" stories set about by the Germans with the somewhat childish idea of frightening us. Anyway the naval airmen made up their minds to go and see for themselves. Of course their departure from the usual scene of their activities in the north was made "without beat of drum", and, as Friedrichshafen was something like 150 miles from the French frontier, their visit was entirely unexpected.

The raiders were Squadron-Commander Briggs, Flight-Commander Babbington, and Flight-Lieutenant Sippe, all of the Royal Navy. They are supposed to have started from the neighbourhood of Belfort, that very strongly fortified town on the eastern frontier of France. They were mounted on similar machines—Avro biplanes. Heading almost due east, they struck the Rhine in the vicinity of Basle—where it turns almost at a right angle from east to north—flew upstream as far as Schaffhausen with its picturesque falls, and then struck across country to Ludwigshafen, at the western extremity of Lake Constance, or the Boden See as the Germans term it. Thence they steered directly down the lake at their objective, the cluster of hangars and workshops on the lakeside, just east of the town of Friedrichshafen. Their advent was both seen and heard, and the whirr of their propellers was at once answered by the stutter of Maxims, the banging of guns, and the popping of musketry. But it is not easy to disable an aeroplane unless you are successful in damaging it in a vital part; so, regardless of this very warm reception, the naval airmen swooped down one after the other from the high altitudes at which they were travelling, and, passing over their target at a height of about 1200 feet, discharged their cargoes of bombs.

Commander Briggs was the first to arrive and drop his bombs, but his petrol tank being pierced by a bullet the petrol ran out and he was brought to the ground, where he was made prisoner and taken off to hospital, having received some injuries from his fall. Babbington and Sippe, following in his tracks, bombarded first the hangars and afterwards the Zeppelin factory, and, circling round, flew off down the Rhine and arrived safely at their starting-point, though their machines had suffered some minor damages. Both were decorated on their return with the Cross of the Legion of Honour, which was pinned on their breasts by General Thevenet, the Governor of Belfort. All three, too, appeared as recipients of the Distinguished Service Order in the New Year's Honours List. And they had well earned their distinctions. Putting on one side the risks inseparable from such an enterprise, they had flown right into the enemy's country for a very considerable distance, over a mountainous district and in quite unfavourable weather conditions, and had created a tremendous moral effect in the enemy nations. They had probably done a considerable amount of material damage to the hangars and workshops, possibly to one or more Zeppelins as well, but no certain details as to the extent have yet become available.

The Germans had been taught to expect great things from their well-organized and numerous fleets of air-ships and aeroplanes. They were to bombard London, defeat our fleets, and terrorize the whole of our "right little, tight little island" with these monster gas-bags. And, lo and behold! before anything of the kind had happened, here were these pestilent English flying-men attacking them in their own country. Not blindly dropping bombs just anywhere in haste to get rid of them, frighten civilians, and get away as fast as possible, but deliberately attacking—and hitting—selected targets. German opinion was profoundly moved. No wonder that their airmen felt that it "was up to them" to show their fellow-countrymen what they could do. But what a poor show it was! On 5th December one gallant airman got within sight of Dover, but turned round and made off again. On the 24th this one, or another, actually flew over the town and dropped a bomb into a cabbage-patch. He was in too much of a hurry to select a more important target, much less hit it. The British reply, if such an unimportant exploit could be deemed worthy of receiving a reply, was prompt and effective. The very next day—Christmas Day—the Naval Air Wing, working in conjunction with its own branch of the service, carried out an extremely well-organized attack upon Cuxhaven, the strongly-fortified port at the mouth of the Elbe which protects the approaches to Hamburg. The following officers participated in this exploit: Flight-Commanders Oliver, Hewlett, and Ross, R.N., and Kilner, R.M.L.I., Flight-Lieutenants Miley and Edmonds, R.N., and Flight Sub-Lieutenant Blackburn, R.N.

The aeroplanes were all of an identical type—Shorts—just as those used against Friedrichshafen were "Avros" and against Düsseldorf "Sopwiths". They were carried on three very fast Channel steamers that had been "taken up" by the Admiralty, each of which was commanded by a naval officer belonging to the air service. It is interesting to note that the navigating officer of one of these vessels was Mr. Erskine Childers, a lieutenant in the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve, the author of that fascinating novel The Riddle of the Sands, which deals most minutely with the navigation of the German coastal waters between the Elbe and the Zuyder Zee. The little expedition was convoyed by the Undaunted and the "saucy" Arethusa—a pair of new light cruisers which have proved themselves a most effective type of war-vessel—and a cordon of submarines and destroyers. Everything had been worked out in detail.

THE BRITISH AIR RAID ON CUXHAVEN
Drawn by John de G. Bryan