Willis J. Abbot

The entrance of the United States upon the war was the signal for a most active agitation of the question of overwhelming the enemy with illimitable fleets of aircraft. Though the agitation was most vociferous in this country whence it was hoped the enormous new fleets of aircraft would come, it was fomented and earnestly pressed by our Allies. France sent a deputation of her leading flyers over to supervise the instruction of our new pilots. England contributed experts to advise as to the construction of our machines. The most comprehensive plans were urged upon Congress and the Administration for the creation of a navy of the air. A bill for an initial appropriation of $640,000,000, for aircraft purposes alone, was passed and one for a Department of Aeronautics to be established, co-ordinate with those of War and the Navy, its secretary holding a seat in the cabinet, was introduced in Congress. Many of the most eminent retired officers of the navy joined in their support. Retired officers only because officers in active service were estopped from political agitation.

There was every possible reason for this great interest in the United States in wartime aviation. The nation had long been shamefaced because the development of the heavier-than-air machines, having their origin undoubtedly in the inventive genius of Professor Langley and the Wrights, had been taken away from us by the more alert governments of France and Germany. The people were ready to buy back something of our lost prestige by building the greatest of air fleets at the moment when it should exercise the most determinative influence upon the war.

But more. We entered upon the war in our chronic state of unpreparedness. We were without an army and without equipment for one. To raise, equip, and drill an army of a million, the least number that would have any appreciable effect upon the outcome of the war, would take months. When completed we would have added only to the numerical superiority of the Allies on the Western Front. The quality of a novel and decisive contribution to the war would be lacking.

So too it was with our navy. The British Navy was amply adequate to deal with the German fleet should the latter ever leave its prudent retreat behind Helgoland and in the bases of Kiel and Wilhelmshaven. True it was not capable of crushing out altogether the submarine menace, but it did hold the German underwater boats down to a fixed average of ships destroyed, which was far less than half of what the Germans had anticipated. In this work our ships, especially our destroyers, took a notable part.

The argument for a monster fleet of fighting aircraft, thus came to the people of the United States in a moment of depression and perplexity. By land the Germans had dug themselves in, holding all of Belgium and the thousands of square miles of France they had won in their first dash to the Marne. What they had won swiftly and cheaply could only be regained slowly and at heavy cost. True, the Allies were, day by day, driving them back from their position, but the cost was disheartening and the progress but slow.

By sea the Germans refused to bring their fleet to battle with their foes. But from every harbour of Belgium, and from Wilhelmshaven and Kiel, they sent out their sinister submarines to prey upon the commerce of the world—neutral as well as belligerent. Against them the navies of the world were impotent. To the threat that by them Germany would starve England into cowering surrender, the only answer was the despairing effort to build new ships faster than the submarines could sink those afloat—even though half a million tons a month were sent to the bottom in wasteful destruction.

Photo by Levick.

A Caproni Biplane Circling the Woolworth Building.

Faced by these disheartening conditions, wondering what they might do that could be done quickly and aid materially in bringing the war to a triumphant conclusion, the American people listened eagerly to the appeals and arguments of the advocates of a monster aËrial fleet.

© International Film Service.

Cruising at 2000 Feet.
One Biplane photographed from another.

Listen [said these advocates], we show you a way to spring full panoplied into the war, and to make your force felt with your first stroke. We are not preaching dreadnoughts that take four years to build. We are not asking for a million men taking nearly a year to gather, equip, drill, and transport to France, in imminent danger of destruction by the enemy's submarines every mile of the way.

We ask you for a cheap, simple device of wood, wire, and cloth, with an engine to drive it. All its parts are standardized. In a few weeks the nation can be equipped to turn out 2000 of them weekly. We want within the year 100,000 of them. We do not ask for a million men. We want 10,000 bright, active, hardy, plucky American boys between 20 and 25 years of age. We want to give them four months' intensive training before sending them into the air above the enemy's lines. In time we shall want 25,000 to 35,000 but the smaller number will well do to open the campaign.

And what will they effect?

Do you know that to-day the eyes of an army are its airplanes? Cavalry has disappeared practically. If a general wishes to pick out a weak point in his enemy's line to assault he sends out airmen to find it. If he is annoyed by the fire of some distant unseen battery over the hills and far away he sends a man in an airplane who brings back its location, its distance, and perhaps a photograph of it in action. If he suspects that his foe is abandoning his trenches, or getting ready for an attack, the ready airmen bring in the facts.

And of course the enemy's airmen serve their side in the same manner. They spy out what their foe is doing, and so far as their power permits prevent him from seeing what they are doing.

Now suppose one side has an enormous preponderance of aircraft—six to one, let us say. It is not believed, for example, that at this moment Germany has more than 10,000 aircraft on the whole western front. Let us imagine that through the enterprise of the United States our Allies were provided with 25,000 on one sector which we intended to make the scene of an attack on the foe. Say the neighbourhood of Arras and Lille. For days, weeks perhaps, we would be drawing troops toward this sector from every part of the line. Through the reports of spies the enemy's suspicions would be aroused. It is the business of an efficient general to be suspicious. He would send out his airplanes to report on the activities of the other side. Few would come back. None would bring a useful report. For every German plane that showed above the lines three Allied planes would be ready to attack and destroy it or beat it back. The air would be full of Allied airmen—the great bombing planes flying low and inundating the trenches with bombs, and the troops on march with the deadly flÉchettes. Over every German battery would soar the observation plane indicating by tinsel or smoke bombs the location of the guns, or even telegraphing it back by wireless to the Allied batteries safe in positions which the blinded enemy could never hope to find. Above all in myriads would be soaring the swift fighting scouts, the Bleriots, Nieuports, Moranes or perhaps some new American machine to-day unknown. Let the wing of a Boche but show above the smoke and they would be upon him in hordes, beating him to the ground, enveloping him in flames, annihilating him before he had a chance to observe, much less to report.

What think you would be the result on that sector of the battle line? Why the foe would be cut to pieces, demolished, obliterated. Blinded, he would be unrelentingly punished by an adversary all eyes. Writhing under the concentrated fire of a thousand guns he could make no response, for his own guns could not find the attacking batteries. Did he think to flee? His retreating columns would be marked down by the relentless scouts in the air, and the deadly curtain of fire from well-coached batteries miles away would sweep every road with death. If in desperation he sought to attack he would do so ignorant whether he were not hurling his regiments against the strongest part of the Allied line, and with full knowledge of the fact that though he was blinded they had complete information of his strength and dispositions.

The argument impressed itself strongly upon the mind of the country. There appeared indeed no public sentiment hostile to it nor any organized opposition to the proposition for an enormous appropriation for purposes of aviation. The customary inertia of Congress delayed the actual appropriation for some months. But the President espoused its cause and the Secretaries both of War and the Navy warmly recommended it, although they united in opposing the proposition to establish a distinct department of aeronautics with a seat in the Cabinet. Being human neither one desired to let his share of this great new gift of power slip out of his hands. Leading in the fight for this legislation was Rear-Admiral Robert E. Peary, U. S. N., retired, the discoverer of the North Pole. Admiral Peary from the very outbreak of the war consecrated his time and his abilities to pushing the development of aeronautics in the United States. He was continually before Congressional committees urging the fullest appropriations for this purpose. In his first statement before the Senate Committee he declared that "in the immediate future the air service will be more important than the army and navy combined," and supported that statement by reference to utterances made by such British authorities as Mr. Balfour, Lord Charles Beresford, Lord Northcliffe, and Lord Montague. In an article published shortly after his appearance before the Senate Committee, the Admiral summarized in a popular way his views as to the possibility of meeting the submarine menace with aircraft, and what the United States might do in that respect. He wrote:

We are receiving agreeable reports as to the efficiency of the American destroyer flotilla now operating against submarines in the North Sea. An unknown naval officer, according to the newspapers of May 30th, calls for the immediate construction of from 100 to 200 additional American destroyers. By all means let us have this force—when it can be made ready—but it would take at least two years to construct, equip, and deliver such a heavy additional naval tonnage, while 200 fighting seaplanes, with a full complement of machine guns, bombs, microphones, and aËrial cameras, could be put in active service in the North Sea within six months.

Seaplanes, small dirigibles on the order of the English "blimp" type, and kite balloons have already shown themselves to be more effective in detecting submarines than are submarine chasers or armed liners.

Not only have the British, French, German, and Turkish forces destroyed trawlers, patrol boats, and transports by aircraft, but successful experiments in airplane submarine hunting have also been made in this country.

In September, 1916, our first AËrial Coast Patrol Unit, in acting as an auxiliary to the Mosquito Squadron in the annual manoeuvres of the Atlantic fleet, detected objects smaller than the latest type of German submarines from fifteen to twenty feet below the surface.

A more complete aËrial submarine hunt took place on March 26th of this year. This was the real thing, because the fliers were looking for German U-boats. Inasmuch as the Navy Department is still waiting before establishing its first and only aeronautical base on the Atlantic seaboard, the honour of having conducted the first aËrial hunt of the enemy submarines in American history went to the civilian aviators who are soon to be a part of the AËrial Reserve Squadron at Governor's Island and to the civilian instructors and aËrial reservists connected with the Army Aviation School at Mineola, Long Island.

These hawks of the air darted up and down the coast in search of the enemy, often flying as far as eleven miles out to sea. The inlets and bays were searched, vessels plotted, compass direction and time when located were given.

No enemy submarines were found. It developed that the supposed submarines were two patrol motor-boats returning from a trial trip. Nevertheless the incident is illuminating, and the official statement of the Navy Department closed with the words: "This incident emphasizes the need of hydroaËroplanes for naval scouting purposes."

It is also interesting to note what happened when Lawrence Sperry went out to sea one day last summer in his hydroplane and failed to return. Two seaplanes and three naval destroyers were sent in search of him. In forty minutes the seaplanes returned with the news that they had located Sperry floating safely on the water. At the end of the day, after several hours of search, the destroyers came back without having seen Sperry at all.

Those who may still believe that we Americans cannot build aircraft and that all the exploits we read so much about in the newspapers taking place on the other side are being done in foreign aircraft will be surprised to know that a large number of the big flying boats now in use in the English navy, harbour, and coast defence work are Curtiss machines, designed and built in this country by Americans, with American material and American engines.

Great Britain wants all the machines of this type that it can get, and sees no reason why we cannot do the same thing in protecting our own Atlantic seaboard. I quote from C. G. Grey, editor of The London Aeroplane:

"Curiously enough, these big flying boats originated in America, and, if America is seriously perturbed about the fate of American shipping and American citizens travelling by sea in the vicinity of Europe, it should not be a difficult matter for America to rig up in a very small space of time quite a fleet of seaplane carriers suitable for the handling of these big seaplanes. If each seaplane ship were armed with guns having a range of five to ten miles, and if the gunners were practised in co-operating with airplane spotters, such ships ought to be the very best possible insurance for American lives and goods on the high seas."

I quote from The Associated Press report from Paris on May 14th to show the relative importance of aËroplanes in submarine attacks:

"During the last three months French patrol boats have had twelve engagements with submarines, French hydroaËroplanes have fought them thirteen times, and there have been sixteen engagements between armed merchantmen and submarines."

Henry Woodhouse, one of the most distinguished authorities on aeronautics in the United States, in his standard Textbook on Naval Aeronautics, published by the Century Company, has assembled the following data on submarine and aeroplane combats:

"On May 4, 1915, the German Admiralty reported an engagement between a German dirigible and several British submarines in the North Sea. The submarines fired on the dirigible without success, whereas bombs from the dirigible sank one submarine.

"On May 31, 1915, the German Admiralty announced the sinking of a Russian submarine by bombs dropped by German naval aviators near Gotland.

"On July 1, 1915, the Austrian submarine U-11 was destroyed in the Adriatic by a French aeroplane, which swooped suddenly and dropped three bombs directly on the deck of the submarine. The craft was destroyed and the entire crew of twenty-five were lost.

"On July 27, 1915, a German submarine in the Dardanelles was about to launch a torpedo at a British transport filled with troops and ammunition, when British aviators gave the alarm to the transport, and immediately began dropping bombs at the submarine, which had to submerge and escape hurriedly, without launching its torpedo.

"On August 19, 1915, the Turkish War Office stated that an Allied submarine had been sunk in the Dardanelles by a Turkish aeroplane.

"On August 26, the Secretary of the British Admiralty announced that Squadron Commander Arthur W. Bigsworth in a single-handed attack bombed and destroyed a German submarine off Ostend.

"Lieutenant Viney received the Victoria Cross and Lieutenant de Sincay was recommended for the Legion of Honour for having flown over a German submarine and destroyed it with bombs off the Belgian coast on November 18, 1915.

"Early in 1916 an Austrian seaplane sank the French submarine Foucault in the southern Adriatic. Lieutenant Calezeny was the pilot and the observer was Lieutenant von Klinburg. After crippling the submarine they then performed the remarkable feat of calling another Austrian seaplane and rescuing the entire French crew, two officers and twenty seven men, in spite of the fact that a high sea was running at the time."

It will be noted that Admiral Peary lays great stress on the supreme value of aircraft as foes of the submarine. This was due to the fact that at about the time of his appearance before the Senate Committee the world was fairly panic-stricken by the vigour and effect of the German submarine campaign and its possible bearing upon the outcome of the war. Of that campaign I shall have more to say in the section of this book dealing with submarines. But the subject of the undersea boat in war became at this time inextricably interwoven with that of the aËrial fleets, and the sudden development of the latter, together with the marked interest taken in it by our people, cannot be understood without some description of the way in which the two became related.

From the very beginning of the war the Germans had prosecuted a desultory submarine warfare on the shipping of Great Britain and had extended it gradually until neutral shipping also was largely involved. All the established principles of international law, or principles that had been supposed to be established, were set at naught. In bygone days enemy merchant ships were subject to destruction only after their crews had been given an opportunity to take to the boats. Neutral ships bearing neutral goods, even if bound to an enemy port, were liable to destruction only if found upon visit to be carrying goods that were contraband of war. The list of contraband had been from time immemorial rigidly limited, and confined almost wholly to munitions of war, or to raw material used in their construction. But international law went by the board early in the war. Each belligerent was able to ascribe plausible reasons for its amendment out of recognizable form. Great Britain established blockades two hundred miles away from the blockaded ports because the submarines made the old practice of watching at the entrance of the port too perilous. The list of contraband of war was extended by both belligerents until it comprehended almost every useful article grown, mined, or manufactured. But the amendment to international law which acted as new fuel for the flames of war, which aroused the utmost world-wide indignation, and which finally dragged the United States into the conflict, was that by which Germany sought to relieve her submarine commanders of the duty of visiting and searching a vessel, or of giving its people time to provide for their safety, before sinking it.

The German argument was that the submarine was unknown when the code of international law then in force was formulated. It was a peculiarly delicate naval weapon. Its strength lay in its ability to keep itself concealed while delivering its attack. If exposed on the surface a shot from a small calibred gun striking in a vital point would instantly send it to the bottom. If rammed it was lost. Should a submarine rise to the surface, send an officer aboard a ship it had halted, and await the result of his search, it would be exposed all the time to destruction at the hands of enemy vessels coming up to her aid. Indeed if the merchantman happened to carry one gun a single shot might put the assailant out of business. Accordingly the practice grew up among the Germans of launching their torpedoes without a word of warning at their helpless victim. The wound inflicted by a torpedo is such that the ship will go down in but a few minutes carrying with it most of the people aboard. The most glaring, inexcusable, and criminal instance of this sort of warfare was the sinking without warning of the great passenger liner, Lusitania, by which more than eleven hundred people were drowned, one hundred and fourteen of them American citizens.

Against this policy—or piracy—the United States protested, and people of this country waxed very weary as month after month through the years 1915 and 1916 Germany met the protests with polite letters of evasion and excuse continuing the while the very practice complained of. But late in January, 1917, her government announced that there would be no longer any pretence of complying with international law, but that with the coming month a campaign of unlimited submarine ruthlessness would be begun and ships sunk without warning and irrespective of their nationality if they appeared in certain prohibited zones. Within twenty-four hours the United States sent the German Ambassador from the country and within two months we were at war. At once the submarine was seen to be the great problem confronting us. Its attack was not so much upon the United States, for we are a self-contained nation able to raise all that we need within our own borders for our own support. But England is a nation that has to be fed from without. Seldom are her stores of food great enough to avert starvation for more than six weeks should the steady flow of supply ships from America and Australia to her ports be interrupted. This interruption the Germans proposed to effect by means of their underwater boats. Von Tirpitz and other leaders in the German administration promised the people that within six weeks England would be starved and begging for peace at any price. The output of submarines from German navy yards was greatly increased. Their activity became terrifying. The Germans estimated that if they could sink 1,000,000 tons of shipping monthly they would put England out of action in two or three months. For some weeks the destruction accomplished by their boats narrowly approached this estimate, but gradually fell off. At the same time there was no period in 1917 up to the time of Admiral Peary's statement, or indeed up to that of the preparation of this book, when it was not felt that the cause of the Allies was in danger because of the swarms of German submarines.

It was that feeling, coupled with the wide-spread belief that aircraft furnished the best means of combating the submarine, that caused an irresistible demand in the United States for the construction of colossal fleets of these flying crafts. Congress enacted in midsummer the law appropriating $640,000,000 for the construction of aircraft and the maintenance of the aËrial service. The Secretaries of War and the Navy each appealed for heavy additional appropriations for aËrial service. The arguments which have already been set forth as supporting the use of aircraft in military service were paralleled by those who urge its unlimited use in naval service.

From every country allied with us came approval of this policy. At the time the debate was pending in Congress our Allies one after another were sending to us official commissions to consult upon the conduct of the war, to give us the benefit of their long and bitter experience in it, and to assist in any way our preparations for taking a decisive part in that combat. The subject of the part to be played by aircraft was one frequently discussed with them. With the French commission came two members of the staff of General Joffre, Major Tulasne and Lieutenant de la Grange, experts in aviation service. A formal interview given out by these gentlemen expressed so clearly the point of view on aviation and its possibilities held in France where it has reached its highest development that some extracts from it will be of interest here:

The extreme secrecy which in this war has characterized the operation of the governments—our own most of all—makes it impossible to state the amount of progress made in 1917 in the construction of our aËrial fleet. During the debate in Congress orators were very outspoken in their prophecies that we should outnumber the Kaiser's flying fleet two or three to one. The press of the nation was so very explicit in its descriptions of the way in which we were to blind the Germans and drive them from the air that it is no wonder the Kaiser's government took alarm, and set about building additional aircraft with feverish zeal. In this it was imitated by France and England. It seemed, all at once about the middle of 1917, that the whole belligerent world suddenly recognized the air as the final battlefield and began preparations for its conquest.

All statistical estimates in war time are subject to doubt as to their accuracy—and particularly those having to do in any way with the activities of an enemy country. But competent estimators—or at any rate shrewd guessers—think that Germany's facilities for constructing airplanes equal those of France and England together. If then all three nations build to the very limit of their abilities there will be a tie, which the contribution of aircraft from the United States will settle overwhelmingly in favour of the Allies. How great that contribution may be cannot be foretold with certainty at this moment. The building of aircraft was a decidedly infant industry in this country when war began. In the eight years prior to 1916 the government had given orders for just fifty-nine aircraft—scarcely enough to justify manufacturers in keeping their shops open. Orders from foreign governments, however, stimulated production after the war began so that when the United States belatedly took her place as national honour and national safety demanded among the Entente Allies, Mr. Howard E. Coffin, Chairman of the Aircraft Section of the Council of National Defence was able to report eight companies capable of turning out about 14,000 machines in six months—a better showing than British manufacturers could have made when Great Britain, first entered the war.

A feature in the situation which impressed both Congress and the American people was the exposure by various military experts of the defenceless condition of New York City against an air raid by a hostile foreign power. At the moment, of course, there was no danger. The only hostile foreign power with any considerable naval or aËrial force was Germany and her fleet was securely bottled up in her own harbours by the overpowering fleet of Great Britain. Yet if one could imagine the British fleet reduced to inefficiency, let us say by a futile, suicidal attack upon Kiel or Heligoland which would leave it crippled, and free the Germans, or if we could conceive that the German threat to reduce Great Britain to subjection by the submarine campaign, proved effective, the peril of New York would then be very real and very immediate. For, although the harbour defences are declared by military authorities to be practically impregnable against attack by sea, they would not be effective against an attack from the air. A hostile fleet carrying a number of seaplanes could round-to out of range of our shore batteries and loose their flyers who could within less than an hour be dropping bombs on the most congested section of Manhattan Island. It is true that our own navy would have to be evaded in such case, but the attack might be made from points more distant from New York and at which no scouts would ever dream of looking for an enemy.

The development in later months of the big heavily armed cruising machines makes the menace to any seaport city like New York still greater. The Germans have built great biplanes with two fuselages, or bodies, armoured, carrying two machine guns and one automatic rifle to each body. They have twin engines of three hundred and forty horse power and carry a crew of six men. They are able in an emergency to keep the air for not less than three days. It is obvious that a small fleet of such machines launched from the deck of a hostile squadron, let us say in the neighbourhood of Block Island, could menace equally Boston or New York, or by flying up the Sound could work ruin and desolation upon all the defenceless cities bordering that body of water.

Nor are the Germans alone in possessing machines of this type. The giant Sikorsky machines of Russia, mentioned in an earlier chapter, have during the war been developed into types capable of carrying crews of twenty-five men with guns and ammunition. The French, after having brought down one of the big German machines with the double bodies, instantly began building aircraft of their own of an even superior type. Some of these are driven by four motors and carry eleven persons, besides guns and ammunition. The Caproni machines of Italy are even bigger—capable of carrying nine guns and thirty-five men. The Congressional Committee was much impressed by consideration of what might be done by a small fleet of aircraft of this type launched from a hostile squadron off the Capes of Chesapeake Bay and operating against Washington. It is not likely that any foreign foe advancing by land could repeat the exploit of the British who burned the capitol in 1812. But in our present defenceless state a dozen aircraft of the largest type might reduce the national capitol to ruins.

If an enemy well provided with aËrial force possesses such power of offence an equal power of defence is given to the nation at all well provided with flying craft. In imitation, or perhaps rather in modification, of the English plan for guarding the coasts of Great Britain, a well matured system of defending the American coasts has been worked out and submitted to the national authorities. It involves the division of the coasts of the United States into thirteen aeronautical districts, each with aeronautical stations established at suitable points and all in communication with each other. Eight of these districts would be laid out on the Atlantic Coast extending from the northern boundary of Maine to the Rio Grande River.

Just what the purpose and value of these districts would be may be explained by taking the case, not of a typical one, but of the most important one of all, the third district including the coast line from New London, Conn., to Barnegat Inlet, New Jersey. This of course includes New York and adjacent commercial centres and the entrance to Long Island Sound with its long line of thriving cities and the ports of the places from which come our chief supplies of munitions of war. It includes the part of the United States which an enemy would most covet. The part which at once would furnish the richest plunder, and possession of which by a foe would most cripple this nation. To-day it is defended by stationary guns in land fortresses and in time of attack would be further guarded by a fringe of cruising naval vessels. Apparently up to the middle of 1917 the government thought no aËrial watch was needed.

But if we were to follow the methods which all the belligerent nations of Europe are employing on their sea coasts we would establish in this district ten aeronautical stations. This would be no match for the British system which has one such station to every twenty miles of coast. Ours would be farther apart, but as the Sound could be guarded at its entrance the stations need only be maintained along the south shore of Long Island and down the Jersey coast. Each station would be provided with patrol, fighting, and observation airplanes. It would have the mechanical equipment of microphones, searchlights, and other devices for detecting the approach of an enemy now employed successfully abroad. Its patrolling airplanes would cruise constantly far out to sea, not less than eighty miles, keeping ever in touch with their station. As the horizon visible from a soaring airplane is not less than fifty miles distant from the observer, this would mean that no enemy fleet could approach within 130 miles of our coast without detection and report. The Montauk Point station would be charged with guarding the entrance to Long Island Sound and, the waters of Nantucket shoals and Block Island Sound where the German submarine U-53 did its deadly work in 1916. The Sandy Hook station would of course be the most important of all, guarding New York sea-going commerce and protecting the ship channel by a constant patrol of aircraft over it.

The modern airplane has a speed of from eighty to one hundred and sixty miles an hour—the latter rate being attained only by the light scouts. Thus it is apparent that if an alarm were raised at any one of these stations between New London and Barnegat three hours at most would suffice to bring the fighting equipment of all the stations to the point threatened. There would be thus concentrated a fleet of several hundred swift scouts, heavy fighting machines, the torpedo planes of the type designed by Admiral Fiske, hydroaËroplanes capable of carrying heavy guns and in brief every form of aËrial fighter. Moreover, by use of the wireless, every ship of the Navy within a radius of several hundred miles would be notified of the menace. They could not reach the scene of action so swiftly as the flying men but the former would be able to hold the foe in action until the heavier ships should arrive.

The enormous advantage of such a system of guarding our coasts needs no further explanation. It is not even experimental, for France on her limited coast has 150 such stations. England, which started the war with 18, had 114 in 1917 and was still building. We at that time had none, although the extent of our sea coast and the great multiplicity of practicable harbours make us more vulnerable than any other nation.