by Guy Warner
In the event, HMAs 5, 6 and 7 suffered delays and were not completed until later in the war. On 28 August, HMA No 3 (Astra-Torres), which carried – as offensive weapons – a Hotchkiss machine gun and four Hales grenades, left Kingsnorth at 06.30 under the command of Neville Usborne and landed at Ostend at 09.45, joining a detachment of RNAS aircraft and armoured cars. Other officers on board included Flight Lieutenants W.C. Hicks, Flight Lieutenant E.H. Sparling and Flight Sub-Lieutenant Hartford. Moored out under the ingenious principle of what Usborne termed virtual mooring, involving only the use of wires and screw pickets, it was used for scouting along the Belgian coast to the Schouwen Bank lightship. It returned to Ostend each evening before nightfall. After Ostend was occupied by the Germans, it moved to Dunkirk, where a photograph showed No 3 moored to a portable mast alongside Commander Samson’s Dunkirk Squadron. It carried out a daring reconnaissance flight over the town in broad daylight – no hostile action taken, as the enemy must have been too astonished to react. Usborne and No 3 returned to England after a week. He reported to the Admiralty that the, ‘following services could be rendered:’
1. By day, scouting for the fleet, which was short-handed in the matter of small craft.
2. By night, standing over the fleet and assisting the destroyers in detecting any attacks.
3. By night, watching the movements of any large body of troops in the vicinity, whose positions might have been ascertained by day.
4. For spotting the fall of shot fired by light cruisers and mortar boats against hostile troops advancing to the attack on land.8
HMA No 3, Short Biplane No 42 and BE2a No 50, near Dunkirk in September 1914. (J.M. Bruce; G.S. Leslie Collection)
Night flights over London were made from Kingsnorth to evaluate possible Zeppelin attacks, and give the searchlight crews and night fighting aircraft some practice. One of these was the future Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur Harris, who, as a newly qualified lieutenant, flew anti-Zeppelin patrols from Northolt:
‘I was told to see if I could find an airship which was going to fly around pretending it was a Zeppelin. Well, by the most astonishing bit of good fortune, both for the airship and myself, I found it by nearly running into it. It had put its lights on when it saw me coming and I suppose that was regarded as a bit of skilful scouting navigation on my part, whereas, as a matter of fact, all I had done was to fly blindly into the night and hope for the best.’9
Beta was detached from Farnborough, firstly to Roehampton and then to Wormwood Scrubs, making a number of flights over London, apparently in defence of the capital:
‘On Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, the airship Beta carried out a number of evolutions over the Metropolis. After circling above St. Paul’s, Buckingham Palace, and other prominent places, the airship came down very low when in the neighbourhood of Trafalgar Square, and then rose to a great height before disappearing in the haze. The King and Queen watched the movements of the airship with great interest from Buckingham Palace.’10
On 22 September, on a calm but foggy night, Beta ascended from Wormwood Scrubs, but lost her bearings and was unable to return to base. Cruising at 500 feet (152 metres) Beta’s crew found it impossible to determine whether she was over the metropolis or open countryside. A navigational fix was eventually made by spotting the sign at Golders Green Underground station in North London, which was picked out in electric light. A circuitous and careful return to base was made at a height of 300 feet (91 metres) or lower, landing safely after a stressful two and a half hours in the air.11 Sueter wrote that these evolutions had a useful practical purpose:
‘Orders were promulgated for controlling the lighting of London, and I sent Wing Commander Maitland across London in the airship Beta, commanded by a very able airman, Flight Lieutenant K.J. Locke, to inspect and report on the restricted lighting arrangements, also Commander Groves was sent over in a free balloon for the same purpose. Other balloons were sent over from time to time, and I also sent Wing Commander Neville Usborne, the gallant Commander of No 3 Airship, to inspect the lighting of the Strand, Regent Street, Oxford Street, and Trafalgar Square from the air.’12
Good practice was also obtained by the crews of guns and searchlights in picking up and training on the airship. Beta inspected the lighting at Woolwich Arsenal a few days later.13
In the summer of 1914, two further Astra-Torres had been ordered by the Admiralty, HMA No 8 (very similar to HMA No 3) and the smaller HMA No 10. Usborne was directed to travel to France in October 1914. His passport, signed by the Foreign Secretary, Sir Edward Grey, noted his age as thirty-one and his rank as commander RN. The purpose of travel was given as, ‘to assist with delivery of an Astra-type airship.’14 A further letter of endorsement, dated 13 October 1914, was written by Wing Commander Oliver Schwann, RN, from the Admiralty Air Department:
‘Wing Commander Usborne is proceeding to Paris to assist in taking delivery of an Astra-type airship built for the Admiralty. If circumstances permit and the French Government allow of this, he should visit Epinel to examine the airship facilities at that place. It is requested that he may be rendered any assistance possible in carrying out his duties.’15
On 2 November 1914, No 3 took part in successful trials with the steamship SS Princess Victoria, when the airship dropped a tow rope onto the quarter deck of the ship from a height of 300 feet (91 metres). The rope was made fast and the airship was towed into and against a 15mph (24kph) wind, whilst the steamer worked up to her full speed of 21 knots (39kph). The crew of the Princess Victoria experienced no difficulty and the airship’s helmsman was able to maintain complete control at all times. The purpose of the experiment was to ascertain if it would be a practical proposition to tow airships in this way, thereby increasing their range and utility as fleet scouts, and improve the radius of action in the anti-submarine role. It was also judged to be reasonable to assume that the airship could have been hauled down close enough to the ship to permit the changeover of crew or refuelling. An observation car capable of being lowered from an airship was also designed, built and tested. A proposal to tow HMAs No 3 and No 8 across the North Sea on a cloudy night, lower the observation cars and then drop bombs on a chosen target from low-level, progressed no further than as a demonstration of Usborne’s fertile imagination and desire to get to grips with the enemy.16 Another trial at this time involved the use of a motorised mooring trolley running on rails laid along the length of the airship shed, using the old airship Delta.17 On 17 December, No 3 was deflated for overhaul and on 22 December, under Usborne’s command, Astra-Torres HMA No 8 was flown at Kingsnorth. Some defects were found so it had to be deflated again for alterations.
An event of considerable interest took place at Kingsnorth on 17 December. C.G. Spencer & Sons Ltd, ‘Makers of Balloons, Airships, Parachutes, Gas containers and Aeronautical Apparatus of Every Description,’ in the form of Mr Spencer himself, demonstrated a parachute which the firm had designed and manufactured. Spencer jumped from HMA No 3 from a height of 1000 feet (305 metres), the parachute opening within 100 feet (30.5 metres) and landed almost precisely on the intended spot below. The C.G. Spencer Static-Line (Automatic) Parachute was adopted for use by the crews of stationary observation kite balloons, but not at this stage for airship personnel, or – until after the war – for pilots, observers and gunners of fixed-wing aircraft. Shamefully, the Air Board did not approve of parachutes for pilots, in case it encouraged them to abandon damaged aircraft rather than trying to recover them to base for repair. While this experiment was taking place, Clive Waterlow was engaged on a series of trials at Kingsnorth testing the suitability of the smaller airships for carrying weapons such as a Lewis gun mounted on top of the envelope, or the heavier calibre Davis recoilless rifle.
As the year drew to a close, Stanley Spooner, the editor of Flight Magazine, in his final editorial of the year, gave his views on lighter-than-air craft in general and Zeppelins in particular:
‘As regards airships, or dirigibles, Germany has c
ontinued to be the greatest supporter of this variety of aircraft. While we have always held the view that dirigibles have certain well-defined uses, it would appear as if the war has demonstrated them to be outclassed by the heavier-than-air type of aircraft. Certain it is, that so far, despite all the efforts of the enemy to instil into the mind of the British public a fear and dread of their Zeppelins, the practical capabilities of these much vaunted airships have yet to be proved. That we are not sitting still to await the attack of these dirigibles may be accepted in advance, and it may be that if we are to be surprised by the Zeppelins, they on their part may find some even more startling surprises awaiting their coming than ever they can conceive. The Germans again have not been alone in their development of anti-aircraft guns, both France and this country being now well equipped in this direction, and ready to cope promptly with any attempt of invasion by air.’18
The First Lord of the Admiralty wrote a memorandum to the War Council on 1 January 1915, setting out his views on the level of threat posed by the Zeppelins:
‘Information from a trustworthy source has been received that the Germans intend to make an attack on London by airships on a great scale at an early opportunity. The Director of the Air Department reports that there are approximately twenty German airships which can reach London now from the Rhine, carrying each a ton of high explosives. They could traverse the English part of the journey, coming and going, in the dark hours. The weather hazards are considerable, but there is no known means of preventing the airships coming and not much chance of punishing them on their return. The unavenged destruction of noncombatant life may therefore be very considerable. Having given most careful consideration to this subject and taken every measure in their power, the Air Department of the Admiralty must make it plain that they are quite powerless to prevent such an attack if it is launched with good fortune and in favourable weather conditions.’19
A letter from Usborne dated 9 January 1915 has survived. It is addressed:
‘From Kingsnorth Air Station. To my dearest old chum. I just love marriage. I think Betty will have a baby in six months’ time. [Their daughter Ann was born in August 1915.] I have had a dull time recently, but this is nearly over, in another six weeks I hope to have newspaper cuttings for you. The Zeppelin effort is still to come. It may prove a fiasco, or it may prove fatal to us as a nation. Aeroplanes will do a lot more this summer.’20
Just over two weeks later, on 26 January, Usborne’s old airship, HMA No 2, was the last airship to fly out of Farnborough when all operations were finally moved from there to Kingsnorth. She never flew again, but her envelope would be put to good use in the development of one of the most numerous and successful of British airship types.
Kingsnorth was described by a young airship officer as:
‘Where intensive training was being given to the small band of budding airship officers, in both theory and practice, including gunnery and much drill. The long days were filled with lectures on aeronautics, navigation, engineering and meteorology, interspersed with the practical work of flying, rigging and engine overhaul.’21
The influence of the commanding officer is evident here; the training is focused on what is necessary to produce capable officers for the airship service and requires dedication and enthusiasm to shine. On 25 February, HMA No 8 resumed flying at Kingsnorth and entered service under the command of Flight Commander W.C. Hicks on 10 March, making a patrol of nine hours along the Sussex coast. Routine Channel patrols continued until 11 May, when it was replaced by HMA No 3. In April, Usborne would have no doubt witnessed a very tragic accident:
‘One of the air-mechanics – William J. Standford – attached to the airship station at Kingsnorth, Hoo, near Rochester, was killed on 23 April 1915 while assisting in mooring one of the naval airships. From the evidence at the inquest it appears that while being hauled down by a landing party, the airship was carried away by the wind, which was blowing at thirty miles an hour. All the men let go except Standford, who apparently thought the party would regain control. He was carried to a height of about 500 feet, and, after hanging on for nearly ten minutes, dropped to the ground and was instantly killed. Flight Lieutenant James William Ogilvy Dalgleish, RN, the commander of the airship, said that the man was about fifty feet from the ground when he first saw that he was on the rope. He immediately let out gas to get down, but the airship continued to rise until the rope was off the ground. The airship was rolling, which made it more difficult for Standford to keep on. She started to come down, and the witness hoped it would land in time, but Standford dropped off. A verdict of accidental death was returned.’22
HMA No 8 Astra-Torres at Kingsnorth in the spring of 1915. (Ces Mowthorpe Collection)
As for the airships Beta, Gamma, Delta and Eta – Eta was the first to go. On her way to Dunkirk on 19 November 1914, she flew into a snowstorm near Redhill, and, having made a forced landing, broke away from her moorings and was so badly damaged as to be incapable of repair. Gamma and Delta were both lying deflated at Farnborough at the outbreak of the war, and in Delta’s case the car was found to be beyond repair, so she was deleted. Gamma was inflated in January 1915 and was used for mooring experiments. Beta saw active service, as she was based for a short period, early in 1915, at Dunkirk on spotting duties, under the command of Wing Commander Maitland, with the Belgian artillery near Ostend. By May 1916 all had been deleted from the active list and scrapped.
The SS Class Airship
Usborne’s next important contribution was assisting with the design of the SS Class airship. After the repulse of the initial German advance and the establishment of a system of trenches running from Belgium to the Swiss border, the war in France had come to something of a stalemate. A decision was made to try and break the deadlock by the application of a change of tactics at sea. On 4 February 1915, a communiqué had been issued by the Imperial German Admiralty which declared:
‘All the waters surrounding Great Britain and Ireland, including the whole of the English Channel, are hereby declared to be a war zone. From 18 February onwards, every enemy merchant vessel found within this war zone will be destroyed without it always being possible to avoid danger to the crews and passengers. Neutral ships will also be exposed to danger in the war zone, as, in view of the misuse of neutral flags ordered on 31 January by the British Government, and owing to unforeseen incidents to which naval warfare is liable, it is impossible to avoid attacks being made on neutral ships in mistake for those of the enemy.’23
A plan of the SS-Class non-rigid airship.. (Via Patrick Abbott)
This declaration opened the first phase of what was to become known as unrestricted submarine warfare. Restricted submarine warfare had meant the U-boat would surface, warn its intended victim, give the crew time to abandon ship and then sink it. Neutral cargo ships and all passenger liners, probably even Allied ones, would be spared.
In order not only to prosecute the war and to supply its troops with food and munitions, but also to survive on the home front, Britain relied heavily on seaborne trade. If Germany could break, or even seriously disrupt, the flow of merchant vessels, then Britain’s ability to have waged war, or indeed feed its population, would have been rendered either difficult or impossible. This was the nature of the problem facing the Admiralty under the political direction of the First Lord, Winston Churchill. However, he recorded in his book, The Great War, the Admiralty was not too concerned at that stage. The Germans had moved too soon, there were simply not enough U-boats available in 1915 to make unrestricted submarine warfare any more than a considerable nuisance rather than a major threat. They compounded this error with a major miscalculation. On 7 May 1915, off the Irish coast, the British liner RMS Lusitania was sunk by a single torpedo fired at a range of 700 yards (640m) by U-20, commanded by Kapitanleutnant Walther Schweiger. The great ship was destroyed in a sudden violent detonation (it was carrying a secret cargo of shells, ammunition and explosives) which resulted in the deaths of nearly 1,200 of th
e 1,959 souls on board. Over 100 of the dead were American citizens and such was the outcry that the Germans prudently scaled down the unrestricted nature of the submarine campaign in order to avoid incurring greater wrath from the USA.
The pilot’s controls in a typical SS Class blimp. (Via Patrick Abbott)
[Author’s note: The distress signals sent from the Lusitania reached Queenstown; Vice Admiral Sir Charles Coke instructed the captains of all available vessels – all relatively small – to sail to the scene of the tragedy. They arrived two hours after the sinking. When they got there, they rescued any people still alive in the water and from only six lifeboats, which were all from the starboard side; 764 passengers and crew were picked up by boats from Queenstown. Many bodies were washed ashore along the coast and brought to the town for identification. The bodies of many of the victims were buried at either Queenstown, where 148 bodies were interred in the Old Church Cemetery, or the Church of St Multose in Kinsale, but the bodies of the remaining 885 victims were never recovered.]
To return to naval aeronautical matters, the Admiralty was not, however, unmindful of the potential threat posed by a greater submarine force. The professional head of the Royal Navy, the First Sea Lord, Admiral Lord Fisher, called a meeting at the Admiralty on 28 February 1915. He requested proposals to enhance the capability of the navy to provide surveillance and deterrence from the air. He had in mind a small airship type to the following specification:
(a)
The airship was to search for submarines in enclosed or relatively enclosed waters.
(b)
She was to be capable of remaining up in all ordinary weather, and should therefore have an airspeed of 40 to 50mph (25 to 31kph).
