That the German aviators are at a disadvantage in fighting against the Allies' aeroplanes armed with machine guns was freely admitted by Gen. von Heeringen, who said significantly that that would be attended to in the near future.
"French aeroplanes have paid me a number of visits," the commanding General said with a laugh, "Our aviation camp seems to be an attraction for them. We have shot down six of them in the last few weeks. Our gunners are really only just beginning to get the hang of it, with practice. The trouble in peace time was always to find some sort of a target to train our gunners in the use of the new motor gun. We couldn't very well ask of our own aviators to go up and let themselves be shot at. But now the French are affording us just the moving target we have been looking for, and our shooting is improving splendidly."
Gen. von Haenisch, von Heeringen's brilliant Chief of Staff, who as former Inspector General of the aviation arm had more to do than any other one individual with bringing German military aviation to its present high pitch of efficiency, supplemented his chief's remarks by saying:
"We recently brought down a French aeroplane from an altitude of 8,100 feet. Our new gun can shoot four miles high."
I had the interesting experience of visiting an aviation camp in the field, inspecting a full sample line of aero bombs, and looking over the very latest thing in German military aeroplanes, a big new Aviatik biplane. For the benefit of The New York Times readers, who have grown accustomed to headlines about "German Taubes over Paris," it must be explained that, just as all German cavalry are not Uhlans, so all German aeroplanes are not Taubes. "Taube" is the name of the German military monoplane, of which there are comparatively few in use; and I am informed that hardly any Taubes have flown over Paris, the bomb-throwing visitors having been the more practical double-decker Aviatiks. The new model which I inspected had a monoplane body, observer and pilot sitting tandem fashion, the Mercedes motor (several cylinders) being in front. It was designed, not for speed but for weight-lifting, as indicated by its formidable arsenal of bombs.
The beauty of workmanship and finish of these infernal machines was interesting. The forty-pounders and twenty-pounders looked like miniature torpedoes, with slightly bulb-shaped bodies and tapering rounded noses, with a tiny three-bladed propeller for a tail and a steel ring to serve as a hand grip. When the aviator is ready to drop a bomb all he has to do is to make a simple adjustment, taking not more than a second, which releases the propeller, and then throw the bomb overboard. As it drops the propeller is set into rapid motion and drives the clockwork mechanism inside the bomb. After a hundred-yard drop it is all ready to explode when it strikes. There are also round cannon-ball-shaped bombs, and special bombs for starting a conflagration when they strike.
Following the lead of the French, the Germans have also adopted the "silent death," and half a dozen of the German aerial darts were given me for souvenirs. They are of steel, about three inches long, with one end pointed and the other flanged, so as to give a rotary motion as they whizz through the air. They look more murderous than they really are, for I was told by one of the aviator officers that they were not very effective. The Germans, methodical in everything, wanted no doubt left in any one's mind that the "silent death" was introduced by the French and only copied by them in self-defense; so every one of the steel darts—a touch of grim humor—bears on one side of the point, in French, the legend "French invention" and on the other side "German manufacture."