Shiny Two Stories - every now and again we'll add stories to give you a flavour of life on Shiny Two through the ages.
The Air Soldier
How he spends his day - By Russell H Stannard
The following is a transcript of a newspaper report dated Tuesday, June 9, 1914. The name of the newspaper is not known but, clearly, their reporter Russell "Scoop" Stannard is well-versed in "Tabloid-ese" as his breathless account of the RFC Concentration Camp at Netheravon on Salisbury Plain conveys.
Such was the stuff that paved the way for today's II(AC) Sqn! Read and be inspired:
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Royal Flying Corps, Concentration Camp, Netheravon, Salisbury Plain
Encamped here on the hills of Netheravon, in sight of Stonehenge, the scene of ancient sacrifice is the new army of the air.
Rows of iron buildings, a long stretch of white hoods, contain this new machine without which a modern army would fight a well-nigh hopeless battle.
This the first great concentration camp of British airmen has settled down to a month’s training, in which almost every day discovers great possibilities. There are some eighty flying machines here, belonging to the squadrons, with their hundred odd pilots, each attended by three mechanics.
A squadron is made up of detachments – “flights” they are called – with a commander. He has his little office with a motorcyclist despatch bearer. Everyday he receives a report from the weather experts, who have a department to themselves – “Meteorology.” These reports, containing information as to the state of the atmosphere, the direction and strength of the wind, are given to each pilot who is going to make a flight within the next few hours.
The orders of the day may require:
Speed tests over a measured distance Reconnoitring the country Searching for named objects Climbing with an observer with a full load of petrol and oil Speeding after a balloon that has been sent off and lost to sight a short while previously, or Flying over bodies of troops to obtain a record of their numbers, description and position, and transmitting the information by wireless to headquarters Taking photographs from a machine of objects beneath Searching the coast for secret convoys The camp awakes at dawn, but the pilots are often out flying earlier than that, although there is no necessity now for the airman to get up at the break of dawn, when the atmosphere is usually tranquil, in order to make some reasonably safe flights. There is flying usually all the morning. It is the mechanic’s duty to keep the machine fit and ever ready for service.
Workshops on Wheels
The workshops are on wheels that can take to the road and speed along the countryside at a moment’s notice. Inside these huge and fast-travelling motor-wagons are all the tools required for repairing and for fitting a spare part without delay. The same power that propels the wagon works the machinery. These are the vehicles without which the aeroplanes would be practically helpless. They are the transport that will keep the air army in the air.
The Army air officer, a man of muscle, has something in his bearing of a student as he goes about his duties. He makes it his business to acquire a thorough scientific knowledge of airmanship. He keeps himself abreast of the very latest developments on the mechanical side of flying by studying among many other things all the French, German, and other technical journals dealing with flying. And his keenness keeps him sometimes up at all hours of the night and day whenever there is any flying to be seen and done. “Anything more I can do, sir?” asked one lieutenant of the commanding officer as he stepped down from the machine in which he had been making some perilous flights in the pitch darkness.
The private of the air army is a strange and fascinating personality who talks proudly of his experiences in the passenger’s seat , and makes caustic comparisons between the capabilities of the pilots. He makes you understand that there is only one hope for the British Army now, and that is flying. A mechanic’s job is very nice; it is a fine thing to know that you are responsible for the safety of the machine, but it is not flying.
Inventive Mechanics
All of these men were in skilled trades, some of them occupying well-paid posts before they joined the air army; motor engineers, chauffeurs, tinsmiths, carpenters are in the ranks. And in the tents at night many of them are contriving model aeroplanes, and thinking out new devices for making the flying machine handier and safer. One mechanic I met was planning a contrivance which he hoped would solve to some extent the problem of an effective brake. Another man was devising an instrument that would record the nature of air currents encountered by a machine. These men are studying in their spare time; they are men of ambition. Their spirit is the spirit of their officers. It says, “We don’t know precisely what the other air armies are doing; how far advanced they are; but we are doing our best to make ourselves the most efficient and formidable air force in the world.”
“What a camp to be in!” said one keen-faced private who was a chauffeur in the West End before he joined the air army. “It’s all holiday. It’s ragtime all the time. I never knew what life was till I came here,” he added, gazing wistfully up at a biplane that had just snorted along the ground and, rising, turned to pass over the camp toward Upavon.
From morning to night a happy-go-lucky spirit pervades this camp, and yet there is no evidence of discipline relaxed. You meet whistling squads of men in their neat-fitting khaki tunics and caps, marching blithely, jolly red-faced parties crowded in motor-wagons and streams of motor-cyclists spreading the dust thick around them.
Eager Students
Every day there are keen and critical audiences in the camp lecture room. Every aspect of flying, personal experiences, new theories are put forward by lecturers who stand by a blackboard illustrating their remarks by figures and diagrams. Officers and sergeants eagerly discuss points raised.
Here is a list of forthcoming papers:
Progress of experimental work. Piloting of an aeroplane and methods of teaching System of supply Allocation of squadrons to formations Meteorology Mechanical Transport Common mistakes with engines Artillery fire from an observer’s point of view Officers and men are entirely absorbed in the work of the camp. But it is at nightfall that an air of mystery envelops the tents. I stood near a hangar late one night when the sky was overcast and there was not a sign of life. The camp seemed to be in profound slumber. Not a light was visible. There came a faint noise overhead, but there was nothing to be seen. It became louder, and then high up a red light glowed, a green rocket shot out of the ground, and red flares betrayed the landing place to the airman.
These night flights are the weird side of the life of this airmen’s camp. Moonlight and starlit nights are of little use. It is the enemy who can steal through the dark night, plunge a tired and sleeping army into wild disorder, and fly away unseen and unheard who will be one of the most deadly factors in the conflicts of to-morrow.
The armies of the future may bivouac in the glare of blazing lights. Searchlights will be playing continuously on the heavens, and gunners will anxiously watch the sky for night raids by air.
At this camp at Netheravon there are grim rehearsals like this almost every day. And all the time there are Red Cross men waiting for news of a machine that has failed to reach the ground safely.
Encamped here on the hills of Netheravon, in sight of Stonehenge, the scene of ancient sacrifice is the new army of the air.
Rows of iron buildings, a long stretch of white hoods, contain this new machine without which a modern army would fight a well-nigh hopeless battle.
This the first great concentration camp of British airmen has settled down to a month’s training, in which almost every day discovers great possibilities. There are some eighty flying machines here, belonging to the squadrons, with their hundred odd pilots, each attended by three mechanics.
A squadron is made up of detachments – “flights” they are called – with a commander. He has his little office with a motorcyclist despatch bearer. Everyday he receives a report from the weather experts, who have a department to themselves – “Meteorology.” These reports, containing information as to the state of the atmosphere, the direction and strength of the wind, are given to each pilot who is going to make a flight within the next few hours.
The orders of the day may require:
Workshops on Wheels
The workshops are on wheels that can take to the road and speed along the countryside at a moment’s notice. Inside these huge and fast-travelling motor-wagons are all the tools required for repairing and for fitting a spare part without delay. The same power that propels the wagon works the machinery. These are the vehicles without which the aeroplanes would be practically helpless. They are the transport that will keep the air army in the air.
The Army air officer, a man of muscle, has something in his bearing of a student as he goes about his duties. He makes it his business to acquire a thorough scientific knowledge of airmanship. He keeps himself abreast of the very latest developments on the mechanical side of flying by studying among many other things all the French, German, and other technical journals dealing with flying. And his keenness keeps him sometimes up at all hours of the night and day whenever there is any flying to be seen and done. “Anything more I can do, sir?” asked one lieutenant of the commanding officer as he stepped down from the machine in which he had been making some perilous flights in the pitch darkness.
The private of the air army is a strange and fascinating personality who talks proudly of his experiences in the passenger’s seat , and makes caustic comparisons between the capabilities of the pilots. He makes you understand that there is only one hope for the British Army now, and that is flying. A mechanic’s job is very nice; it is a fine thing to know that you are responsible for the safety of the machine, but it is not flying.
Inventive Mechanics
All of these men were in skilled trades, some of them occupying well-paid posts before they joined the air army; motor engineers, chauffeurs, tinsmiths, carpenters are in the ranks. And in the tents at night many of them are contriving model aeroplanes, and thinking out new devices for making the flying machine handier and safer. One mechanic I met was planning a contrivance which he hoped would solve to some extent the problem of an effective brake. Another man was devising an instrument that would record the nature of air currents encountered by a machine. These men are studying in their spare time; they are men of ambition. Their spirit is the spirit of their officers. It says, “We don’t know precisely what the other air armies are doing; how far advanced they are; but we are doing our best to make ourselves the most efficient and formidable air force in the world.”
“What a camp to be in!” said one keen-faced private who was a chauffeur in the West End before he joined the air army. “It’s all holiday. It’s ragtime all the time. I never knew what life was till I came here,” he added, gazing wistfully up at a biplane that had just snorted along the ground and, rising, turned to pass over the camp toward Upavon.
From morning to night a happy-go-lucky spirit pervades this camp, and yet there is no evidence of discipline relaxed. You meet whistling squads of men in their neat-fitting khaki tunics and caps, marching blithely, jolly red-faced parties crowded in motor-wagons and streams of motor-cyclists spreading the dust thick around them.
Eager Students
Every day there are keen and critical audiences in the camp lecture room. Every aspect of flying, personal experiences, new theories are put forward by lecturers who stand by a blackboard illustrating their remarks by figures and diagrams. Officers and sergeants eagerly discuss points raised.
Here is a list of forthcoming papers:
These night flights are the weird side of the life of this airmen’s camp. Moonlight and starlit nights are of little use. It is the enemy who can steal through the dark night, plunge a tired and sleeping army into wild disorder, and fly away unseen and unheard who will be one of the most deadly factors in the conflicts of to-morrow.
The armies of the future may bivouac in the glare of blazing lights. Searchlights will be playing continuously on the heavens, and gunners will anxiously watch the sky for night raids by air.
At this camp at Netheravon there are grim rehearsals like this almost every day. And all the time there are Red Cross men waiting for news of a machine that has failed to reach the ground safely.
