“That is not much larger than the Zeppelins existing when war broke out,” I said, “but, of course, it must be admitted that even a small increase of size enlarges an airship’s capabilities and range. The top speed of the new thousand horse-power type is said to be about sixty-two miles an hour, but driving at such high speed must involve a heavy consumption of petrol.”
“What about climbing?” asked Ainley. “You’ve made Zeppelins a study, Munro. Tell us your opinion?”
“Well, in order to escape, more than one German airship has risen, we know, to 10,000 feet, but that was only in case of great emergency, and meant sacrifice of load and great waste of gas. You see, if a Zeppelin is over a town and is discharging her bombs and consuming her petrol, her natural tendency would be to rise. Probably the new type of super-Zeppelin could, I should say, rise 4,000 to 5,000 feet, but it must be remembered that it cannot, with impunity, go to 12,000 or 15,000 feet because of the density of the atmosphere.”
“Cover Great Britain with up-to-date ‘Archies.’ That’s my opinion—and one shared by many competent writers on the subject,” Ainley remarked, whereupon Teddy and I exchanged glances.
Little did that small group of pilots dream of the great surprise which we had “up our sleeve.”
A few days later—the First of February to be exact—the country was startled by the news published in the morning papers that on the previous night no fewer than six Zeppelins had flown over some Midland counties, dropping a large number of bombs, and killing and injuring many innocent women and children.
People who read the accounts stood aghast. Then, once again, came the cry from the big populous centres in the Midlands that warning of the approach of enemy aircraft should be given, and once again the papers were flooded with letters from indignant readers making all sorts of wild suggestions how to combat the Zeppelin peril. On top of this, however, came the welcome news that the L19, one of the raiders, had been found by a trawler in a sinking condition in the North Sea.
At least one of the barbaric baby-killers had got its just deserts.
Personally, I felt deeply moved by this latest dastardly invasion. That there must be an end to “traditions,” to political speech-making, to conferences and to promises of imaginary “nests of hornets,” was now clear. The homes of Englishmen were threatened with destruction. Germany had adopted a new mode of warfare that must change everything. Therefore, happily, unfettered by red tape, and unattached to any naval or military branch of the Service, but merely an experimenter, I intended, at the earliest moment, to put my directive wave to the crucial test.
During the past week we had not been idle a moment, and Teddy and I, after more failures, had at last been able to reduce the weight of our apparatus by nearly one-half, while we had been able to more than double the intensity of the current since that well-remembered night when we had tested it upon our wireless-pole while strangers had lurked unseen in the vicinity.