BIGGLES
OF THE SPECIAL AIR POLICE
by Captain W.
E. Johns
VII. BIGGLES THEN AND NOW (Pages 147 –
149)
“The stories that follow are reprinted to
comply with many requests for information about Biggles’ early days as an air
pilot. They are taken from the first
Biggles book published, The Camels are Coming. This
and Biggles of the Camel Squadron
have long been out of print, and copies are rare. Both consist of short stories and deal with
Biggles’ exploits in the first world war.
Biggles was then a junior officer in the Royal Flying Corps, then a
branch of the army, for the R.A.F. did not come into existence until 1918. When the books were written the threat of a
second world war had not darkened the horizon, and their main purpose was to
keep alive the traditions established by the pioneers of war-flying. Air combat was then very different from what
it has become; but let it be remembered that it was in the first world war that
the primary lessons of air warfare were learned. Equipment (Biggles flew a Sopwith Camel) was
primitive, but bullets struck just as hard as in Hitler’s war. “Flak”, then called “archie”, was just as
much a menace, for machines were comparatively slow, had a low ceiling, and
were therefore easier to hit than their modern counter-parts. There were no parachutes to give pilot or
gunner a chance if things went wrong. In
fact, there was none of those things that make the cockpit of a modern aircraft
look like a watch-maker’s shop. There
was no wireless telephony. Once the
wheels of an aircraft were off the ground the pilot was his own master, to go
where he wished. There was no
“blind-flying” equipment, no oxygen apparatus and no electrically heated
clothing. Most machines were fitted
simply with an airspeed indicator, an altimeter, an air engine rev. counter,
and an inclinometer that might as well have been left at home for all the
practical use it was. There might be petrol
and oil gauges, but it was unwise to rely on them. A pilot flew “by the seat of his pants”, with
his head in the open air. One could
usually recognise a “Camel” pilot by the oil-soaked shoulders of his
tunic. (The castor-oil used by rotary
engines was thrown out as fast as it was used, and a pilot, leaning out to see
where he was going, collected some of it on his person.) True, in 1918 there appeared a machine with a
covered cockpit – the S.E.5. It was
promptly dubbed “the greenhouse”, and at the front the cover was usually
removed. Pilots hated the unaccustomed
shut-in feeling. The Sopwith Camel was
an efficient machine in its day, but tricky to fly. It had little inherent stability. The excessive “torque” of the rotary engine
tended to turn the whole machine over, and holding on controls to counteract
this was a tiring business. The same
torque enabled a pilot to turn in a flash in one direction, but against torque
the aircraft had to be dragged around.
In short, war-flying in the period covered by these stories was a simple
but dangerous occupation. You took off,
found an opponent, and shot at each other until one fell, or ran out of
bullets. This was air combat in its
infancy, but it lent itself to tricks that could be employed to advantage. Few pilots lived long enough to become senior
officers, for which reason the average age of a major commanding a squadron was
twenty-one. We used to say that if a
pilot, after being posted to a service squadron, could survive the first
forty-eight hours he might live for a month.
By that time, if he had learned the tricks of the trade, he had a
reasonable prospect of life. The
following stories were the first “Biggles” stories ever written. Biggles was a young man then, so if you
notice a difference in his behaviour, or if his methods and equipment seem
strange, you will understand why.
W.E.J.