"Who made the law that men should die in meadows, Who spake the word that blood should splash in lanes, Who gave it forth that gardens should be boneyards, Who spread the hills with flesh and blood and brains? Who made the law?" Seldom, perhaps, does a plain question receive so plain an answer as that coming direct from so qualified an authority as Prince Lichnowsky, former German Ambassador to the Court of St. James, who, in the course of his confessions, which he entitles "My Mission to London," says, simply and quite candidly, "We insisted on war." Herr Harden, too, writing in Die Zukunft in November, 1914, even if a trifle more impetuous, more brutal, is none the less frankly outspoken: "Let us drop," he protests, "our miserable attempts to excuse Germany's action.... Not against our will, nor as a nation taken by surprise, did we hurl ourselves into this gigantic venture. We willed it ... it is Germany that strikes." And having fixed the blame, the moral responsibility, equally plain-sailing is it to establish the blood-stained guilt; evidence of it fairly "stinks" no matter where one turns to look; from emperor to general, from statesman to author, exudes the credo of Teuton Kultur; There is, however, all the difference in the world between the transitive and intransitive senses of a verb, and if we take the verb to "terrorise" as an apposite example, the transition from the former sense to the latter, i.e. from terrorising to being terrorised, is apt to be very noticeable, indeed unpleasant. Granted that British and Boche ideas on the particular subject in no way harmonise, the British method ultimately of diffusing an unlimited supply of high explosive over the Boche lines nevertheless had the desired effect of "putting the fear of God" into the right individuals, at the right time, and in the right place. One employs the prefix "ultimately" of necessity, for obviously the diffusion of metal prior to the latter phases of the war was, except upon certain occasions which were few and far between, anything but unlimited; it was, in fact, at one particular period of the war of so limited a nature as to infuse into the mind of the late Lord Kitchener a fear of stalemate on the Western Front, sufficient to Thanks, however, to the staying powers of the workers, to the inflexible will to win by which they were animated throughout, the crushing superiority, early attributable to the enemy, gradually became less and less apparent; in fact, after hanging for a time evenly in the balance, the scales indeed tipped the other way, eventually dipping to such an extent in Entente favour as to become a source, at first of no little astonishment, then of concern, to the German "Imperial Staff of Supermen." General Ludendorff in his memoirs ["My War Memories," 1914-1918, Vols. I. & II., Hutchinson & Co. 39s.] makes no attempt to conceal his surprise, if not indeed his dismay, at the awkward trend of events. "Whereas we had hitherto been able to conduct our great war of defence" (sic), so he writes (cp. page 240, Vol. I.), "by that best means of waging war—the offensive—we were now (by the autumn of 1916) reduced to a policy of pure defence.... The equipment of the Entente armies with war material had been carried out on a scale hitherto unknown"; the boot was plainly on the other leg, for (cp. page 242, Vol. I.) "the Battle of the Somme showed us every day how great was the advantage of the enemy in this respect." Evidently the one and only Ludendorff no longer had any doubt in his own mind as to the "writing on the wall," Napoleon is credited with the opinion that Such in effect, then, was the net result obtained by an intense application by the Entente Armies of "a very superior artillery," rendered possible by the untiring efforts of the workers, by the plant at their disposal, and by the brains which created and controlled. There can be no parallel in the whole history of international warfare to compare even approximately with the abnormally severe conditions imposed upon pieces of artillery during the present-day conflict, conditions which perforce had a considerable bearing not only on the design of integral parts, but also on the nature of the material employed in the manufacture of those parts. If proof positive were ever needed in support of the argument that bread may be found again which has been cast upon the waters, not merely many days previously, but weeks, months, and years, the money sunk by the London and North-Western Railway Company in their drop-hammer plant at Crewe affords the proof; for, thanks to the existence of this plant, thanks too to the invaluable experience gained during the years following upon its installation, not only were the staff engaged in operating the hammers able, figuratively speaking to forge right ahead, literally speaking to commence drop-forging, directly they were required to do so, those sorely needed "sinews of war" which a pre-war generation of feeble-gutted politicians had neglected to provide against the evil day of reckoning, but Mr. Cooke found himself in the unique position of being able to undertake Significant, and sufficiently expressive of appreciation, if not of actual open-mouthed astonishment, is the following letter received by Mr. Cooke from a well-known Government Department: "I have to thank you and your staff on behalf of the Ministry of Munitions for the excellent work you have done in producing stampings of trunnion brackets. The part in question has hitherto been considered almost impossible to produce as a stamping, and the work you have now produced will add materially to the efficiency of this important equipment. I should be glad if this letter could be brought to the notice of your subordinate staff who carried out the work." From the same source, but at a later date, came this further little note of esteem: "Your previous production of the trunnion bracket has been the means of great saving to the State, and it is with great satisfaction that I am able to again congratulate your operating staff on a renewed success in your stamping department." For the benefit of those uninitiated in the fascinating art of drop-stamping or forging, it may not be considered superfluous if a brief explanation is given of the principles embodied in the system, and for this purpose one cannot do The secret of providing this particular form of power lies obviously in the Brett drop-hammer, and in it alone, and the method evolved consists in the raising of the hammer-head or "tup" between a pair of parallel and vertical guides to a certain height by pressure of steam exerted within an overhead cylinder; no sooner is this pressure shut off than the "tup" automatically descends by force of gravity, delivering the hammer-blow simply with the weight of its falling mass, and rebounding, is lifted once again It is obvious, as Mr. Brett goes on to point out, that "the vibrations from blows of sufficient power and elasticity (or sharpness) to cause metal at a moderate heat to flow completely into the impressions of the dies," i.e. the blocks in which are cut the impression of the required forging, "and to make clean work, are calculated to destroy any rigidly built machine." Hence the fact, which a cursory glance at the hammers cannot fail to establish, that nothing has been overlooked or omitted in regard to detail in design, "not any of the parts affected by the work are bolted together or in any wise rigidly fixed; the guides are held and the dies set in position by flexible means, i.e. the lower end of each guide fits into a recess into the base block, the top end passes up into a socket having sufficient clearance for wood packing, the wood is intended to absorb the vibrations which pass up the guide-rod." The plant at Crewe as originally installed in 1899, by the late Mr. F. W. Webb, of "compound" fame, consisted merely of one There are at the present time no fewer than eight "batteries" of hammers "in action" at Crewe, the actual number of hammers being twenty-two, and some idea of the extent of the progress made may be gauged by the fact that the yearly tonnage output of stampings rose from 400 tons in 1902 to 1450 tons in 1917, a time when the plant was largely devoted to the manufacture of a regular "pot-pourri" of essential munitions of war. It was primarily due to the urgent demands of the Ministry of Munitions for a supply of trunnion brackets, which, cast in steel, were proving defective, and which had "been considered almost impossible to produce as stampings," that Mr. Cooke determined on the course of laying down an additional hammer, having a "tup" weighing no less than four solid tons. Complete with gas-producers, stationary "Peace," as we know, "hath her victories no less renowned than war," and no sooner was the mantle of munition manufacture laid aside than efforts were once again concentrated on the production of locomotive parts, the whole of the Walschaerte valve gear appertaining to Mr. Cooke's latest express passenger engines, the well-known "Claughton" class, being now produced under the 4-ton drop-hammer. Standing in the immediate vicinity of the hammers ranged in convenient positions in regard to gas furnaces, "dummying" hammers, and "finning" or "trimming" presses, the average and intelligent visitor never fails to be impressed as he witnesses the operations in process, and notes the lightning rapidity with which, as if by the magic of a magician's wand, a bar or billet of How natural it all seems, how almost childish in simplicity! And yet on second thoughts, how come these various shapes and forms, these corners, elbows, and recesses, these well-nigh perfect surfaces, pure and clean, free from blow-holes, dirt and scale? True, we know the crashing and resilient hammer blow is there, and then a little closer acquaintance with, or examination of, the hammer is all that is necessary, for this will reveal the fact that it is the effect of the blow on a pair of "dies," one of which is held rigidly in the "tup," the other on the base-block, that causes the metal at a moderate heat to "flow" completely into the impressions which are in the dies, and which ensure the fashioning of the article required. To cut an impression in a pair of "dies," to put the "dies" in the hammer, and to obtain a forging, sounds the simplest thing in the world. Yet in actual practice, so many are the problems which present themselves, so diverse are the obstacles to be overcome, that a volume might be written on the craft of the die-designer, whose What is the most suitable metal to employ in the manufacture of the dies? and having found that metal, what is the best process of hardening? are two of the first questions to be decided. Will the forgeman bestow every care in the use of his "dies," and will he set them accurately in the hammer? Much depends on answers being in the affirmative. Whether to cast the impressions in the die-blocks, or to machine them out in toto, and if machined out how to do so, are further knotty propositions. Correct taper on the walls of holes, bosses, and recesses; egress for imprisoned air; size of bar or billet to be stamped, after making suitable allowance for contraction and waste; control of waste metal or "fin"; method of duplex stamping. Such are the more potent problems with which the die-designer is faced, and whilst lack of insight will assuredly foreshadow failure, ability to grasp their import cannot fail to spell success. Obviously the mind of the die-designer must ever be planning, plotting, scheming how best to make his metal "flow;" and concentrated attention, and study extending over years, are the only means of approaching that degree of perfection which in the art of drop-stamping, as in all other branches of mechanical science, the engineer is ever striving to attain. Even if we generously assume that these gentlemen were the exception rather than the rule, such glaring exhibitions of ignorance and impudence combined could not but tend to bring out in full relief the anomalies which, although possibly unavoidable, existed none the less in a system of universal and compulsory service; and with every apology to the talented soldier poet, author of the initial stanza introducing this chapter, one may be pardoned if, in conclusion, one feels constrained to put this further little conundrum:— "Who made the law that nincompoops and asses Should 'cushy' jobs, immune from risk, infest, While other 'blokes,' undaunted—aye in masses,— Naught asking, bit the dust, and so—'went west'? Who made the law?" |