With our army in Flanders

by Valentine Williams

The aeroplane has relieved the cavalry of the greater part of its functions. If our cavalry are serving dismounted in the trenches, and their horses growing round of belly, it is the fault of the aeroplane. Sir John French has defined the functions of cavalry as threefold: to reconnoitre, to deceive, to support. The aeroplane has entirely usurped the first of these three roles, and has rendered the second illusory. Only rain and mist can safely hope to obscure the movements of an army from the eyes of the watcher in the skies.

Like cavalry, the military aeroplanes execute both tactical and strategical reconnaissances. Their tactical reconnaissances are carried out on shorter flights, which lead them out over the enemy trench-lines and the region immediately behind. Their object is to note any change in the clear-cut line of the trenches, as seen from above, indicative of the laying out of fresh fortifications or communication trenches; to look out for reliefs coming up; and, generally, to gauge the strength and composition of the enemy forces along a definite section of the front by noting the positions of transport columns and by locating the whereabouts of brigade and divisional headquarters.

Generally the aeroplane has a specific mission, though, of course, roving flights are also made. A flight may be undertaken at the request of a battalion in the front line which has observed suspicious activity on the part of the enemy opposite, or the Intelligence may have got wind of some move which seems to require further elucidation by a peep from above.

Of the same nature as these tactical reconnaissances are the flights undertaken in collaboration with the artillery, either to survey likely objectives for our guns, to locate hostile batteries that have been annoying our lines, or to perform that useful duty known as “spotting for the guns”—i.e., observing the effect of our artillery fire. Naturally, in the course of flights undertaken for purposes unconnected with our artillery, an aeroplane will often make observations of the greatest value to the guns. In such cases, of course, a report is immediately made to the artillery headquarters.

As in these tactical reconnaissances the aeroplane is, so to speak, an extended and movable periscope for the men in the front line, so, in its strategical reconnaissance work, it may be said to serve as eyes to the General Staff. Strategical reconnaissance takes the aeroplane on longer flights far into the enemy’s country, where above towns in the war zone, about barracks and railheads and headquarters and fortifications, keen eyes may glean much that is of supreme importance to the General Staff in compiling the information as to the strength and dispositions of the enemy on which all strategy is based.

In addition to the tactical and strategical importance of the aeroplane in war, it is also a weapon not only of offence, but of defence, against aircraft. It can carry out bombing raids on fortified positions, factories of munitions of war, aviation centres, railway-stations, barracks, bivouacs, and batteries. It is the only really effective weapon of defence against aircraft, both aeroplanes and airships. One of the principal duties of our aeroplanes at the front is to go up and chase away German aircraft reconnoitring or bound on bombing exploits. They have also done useful work as sky sentries on the watch for the Zeppelins which from time to time sally forth—with small success, be it said—to spread German Kultur from the clouds over the towns situated in our zone of operations at the front.

The battle of Neuve Chapelle may be cited as a typical instance of the work which the Royal Flying Corps is doing in this war. It was our airmen who, by continual reconnaissance work in all the variations of weather which are found in the late winter of Flanders, ascertained the dispositions of the Germans about Neuve Chapelle to be such as to justify the hope that we might risk a successful offensive at this point. It was they who, while our troops were massing for the attack, made sure that all was quiet, not only in the German lines, but also in the enemy’s country, far back into Belgium. It was they who, by hovering constantly above our trenches, kept prying German eyes away, and prevented them from discovering the surprise which was preparing for Prince Rupprecht of Bavaria and his merry men.

Nor did the usefulness of the Royal Flying Corps cease here. Despite the very hazy weather which prevailed on the morning of the engagement (March 10), “a remarkable number of hours’ flying of a most valuable character were effected, and continuous and close reconnaissance was maintained over the enemy’s front” (Sir John French’s Despatch, dated General Headquarters, April 5, 1915).

During the actual fighting, in addition to their usual work of “spotting for the guns,” our aeroplanes executed several daring raids into Belgium, in order to hamper the enemy’s movements by destroying his points of communication. Bombs were dropped on the railways at Menin, Courtrai, Don, and Douai; a wireless installation near Lille is believed to have been destroyed; while, to quote the official despatch again, “a house in which the enemy had installed one of his headquarters was set on fire.”

This was, I believe, the headquarters of the German Intelligence, for I read in the German newspapers that the rooms in which the German Intelligence at General Headquarters is installed are boarded up along one side as the result of the partial destruction of the house by an English air raid. It was also stated that one of the English bombs which had not exploded is kept on the mantelpiece in the office as a memento.