Pictures

Portraits

Xmas Office Party

An interesting Flickr set of photographs evidently taken in the south of England in the last year of the Second World War was recently posted to a WWII mailing list I'm on. Many show aircraft of various types; others are of people and places. The photographer is unknown but judging from the content was in the US Army Air Forces, stationed at RAF Bassingbourn in Cambridgeshire.

I've picked out a few interesting aircraft shots: some are aesthetically pleasing, some show unusual types, and one shows something I'd never come across before. But first is one of a person, perhaps the most intriguing. It shows an unidentified, uniformed woman on a bed: the negative is labelled 'Xmas Office Party 1 75w bulb overhead f2 25th sec 02' which says much, but not enough: we are drawn into speculation. Perhaps she has something, or someone, on her mind; perhaps she's just tired and had a bit too much to drink. It's unlikely that we'll ever know, but then that's what intrigues.
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Scareship Venus

Western horizon from London, 21 February 1913, 8.30pm

The planet Venus normally sticks close to the Sun and so can only be seen very shortly after sunset, to the west (or before sunrise, to the east, when it is a morning star). But every 584 days, when it reaches maximum elongation in its orbit, it is far enough from the Sun in apparent terms that it remains visible for quite some time after dusk. It also relatively close to the Earth at this time and so unusually bright: only the Moon is brighter. At such times Venus dominates the western sky and it can be very startling, especially for the infrequent stargazer.

As it happens, Venus reached maximum elongation on 11 February 1913, right in the middle of the phantom airship scare. The above thumbnail probably isn't very clear, but the full-size version, made with Stellarium, shows the western horizon from London at 8.30pm on 21 February 1913, the beginning of the scare's peak. (London without any buildings, light pollution or clouds, admittedly, but the view would have been roughly the same from anywhere in the British Isles.) Venus can be seen low above the horizon, almost exactly due west, and extremely bright (apparent magnitude -4.1, though extincted by the atmosphere to -3.2). Anyone who happened to glance in that direction would see a brilliant light hovering in the distance, very different to the other stars and even planets. If they watched it for a few minutes they might see it drifting northwards and perhaps sinking lower; if there were clouds scudding by or trees waving in the wind the effect might be enhanced. It would be very easy to think an aircraft was flying about, equipped with a searchlight.
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This post is part of an experiment in post-blogging the scareship wave of January-April 1913. See here for an introduction to the series.

Mapping the 1913 phantom airship scare


View Scareships, 1913 in a larger map

Here's where the 1913 phantom airship sightings took place. Actually, there are a few from late 1912 (including the Sheerness incident), the blue ones. Red indicates sightings in January 1913, green February, cyan March, and yellow April.

A quick visual inspection shows that the density of sightings was greatest in Lancashire and Yorkshire, in a belt running from Liverpool in the west to Hull in the east. However, this perception is skewed somewhat by the cluster of reports from about a dozen places in and around Selby on 21 and 22 February. Clearly something happened there that night, and whatever it was can in no way be discounted, but Yorkshire would stand out far less otherwise (though there would still be the sightings from around Hull and Grimsby, including that from the City of Leeds, about the last of the whole scare to generate widespread interest in the press). By contrast, the clusters around Manchester and Liverpool, though smaller, are also more sustained, with reports spread out over four or five weeks. Other significant groupings include the south-east of England and, relatively late in the scare, the east coast of Scotland. And, of course, the coastline either side of the Bristol Channel, which featured prominently in the scare from almost the first to almost the last. Cardiff was the place most frequented by mystery airships, with four visits recorded at long intervals; that the Chief Constable of Glamorganshire was one of the first to see it and was willing to publicly appeal for witnesses to come forward may help explain why hundreds or even thousands of people saw them there. Only Hull presents a similar example of a mass sighting, though there were others where smaller crowds gathered to watch the scareship. It's also worth noting that there were occasional reports of mysterious airships from Ireland and from the Orkneys.
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This post is part of an experiment in post-blogging the scareship wave of January-April 1913. See here for an introduction to the series.

Bomben auf Amerika?

That Liberty Shall Not Perish From The Earth, 1918

John Ptak recently pinned a 1964 science fiction magazine cover depicting a ruined Statue of Liberty, predating the more famous ending of Planet of the Apes by four years. He wondered about earlier images along the same lines, and after a bit of digging I found not many at all. The above is the only example, but it turns out to be relevant to my interests. It's an American propaganda poster dating to 1918, appealing to the viewer to invest in the latest war bond issue. Lady Liberty is ruined all right — her head and her torch have tumbled down beside her. Behind her New York City is burning, and the flames and their reflection in the harbour dominate the image. The cause of the destruction is presumably the aeroplanes which can be seen on either side of the Statue. A submarine is also sailing past, which may be responsible for the merchant vessels wrecked on Liberty Island.
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Lest we forget what?

[Cross-posted at Society for Military History Blog.]

2010 Anzac Day clash

Today is Anzac Day, the anniversary of the landing at Gallipoli of Australian (and New Zealand, though my remarks here mostly pertain to my own country) troops on 25 April 1915. In the last two decades Anzac day has increasingly been seen as marking the coming of age of the nation, and its annual commemoration has become the most sacred event on the national calendar. And as a military historian I think this is a problem.

The original diggers are gone now, and the numbers of the veterans of later wars are diminishing rapidly too, but dawn services at local war memorials and overseas battlefields seem to only become more popular. Broadcast, print and social media are filled with ritual invocations to never forget. New forms of commemoration appear. Stories of courage and sacrifice are told and retold. This is not in itself a problem. I'm not against Anzac Day, as such, and there's nothing wrong with remembering. It's what we're not remembering, or never knew in the first place, that is worrying. We should be looking to understand, not merely remember.
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Tuesday, 22 April 1913

Aberdeen Daily Journal, 22 April 1913, 4

A rather belated mystery airship report appears in today's Aberdeen Daily Journal (p. 4):

It was reported a few days ago that on the evening of the 9th April [1913] an airship, steering north-west, was seen from the island of Stronsay, Orkney. Doubt was felt at the time as to the reliability of the report, but information has since been received from other parts of Orkney of an airship having been seen about the same time and proceeding in the same direction.

It may be significant that the Orkneys are the location of Scapa Flow, an important naval base used for fleet exercises. An airship was seen from the neighbouring island of Sanday in late February.

This post is part of an experiment in post-blogging the scareship wave of January-April 1913. See here for an introduction to the series.

Wednesday, 9 April 1913

Manchester Guardian, 9 April 1913, 9

It's been a while, but after three previous visits the mystery airship has returned to Cardiff. From the Manchester Guardian (p. 9; above):

Our Cardiff correspondent sends a report that again last night [8 April 1913] an aircraft was seen at Cardiff, where one was reported to have been seen frequently at the beginning of the recent airship scare. The Chief Constable of Glamorganshire (Captain Lindsay), who previously issued a description of the circumstances under which he saw a supposed airship, and asked for reports from anyone who had made observations, is said to have seen the one last night, with the Deputy Chief Constable and others, from the county police station. It is stated that it travelled at a high speed, and passed over the western district of Cardiff. It was first sighted at 8 23 coming from the north, and was lost sight of at 8 25, going in a south-westerly direction towards Weston-super-Mare. It had a powerful searchlight beneath it, and its speed is estimated by the police as being from 60 to 70 miles an hour.

A few other newspapers carry a briefer account: the Aberdeen Daily Journal, the Irish Times, and the Manchester Courier. The latter's version is longest (p. 7):

Great excitement was caused at Cardiff last night by the passage over the city of an aircraft, whether dirigible or aeroplane could not be discerned. The vessel carried a brilliant light and disappeared over the Bristol Channel. Great crowds of people watched the vessel from the streets.

The Courier's headline claims that the Cardiff object was 'WATCHED BY THOUSANDS'. Only on one previous occasion, just over two months ago, has it been claimed that such a large number of people witnessed a phantom airship, and that too was in Cardiff and environs.

This post is part of an experiment in post-blogging the scareship wave of January-April 1913. See here for an introduction to the series.

Saturday, 5 April 1913

Dundee Courier, 5 April 1913, 5

Z4 had only a brief stay in Lunéville. It has already flown back to Metz, though not before being searched by the authorities for any evidence that the Zeppelin had been photographing French defences. They didn't find any, but did impose a £300 customs duty anyway (which will be refunded). Except in the frontier provinces, French opinion seems little disturbed by the uninvited visitor; the German press is less sanguine, being concerned by the possibility of Zeppelin's secrets being revealed. Indeed, there is a suggestion that Z4's commander should have destroyed the airship rather than allowing it to fall into the hands of the French.

There is some more discussion today of the Lunéville incident in relation to mystery airship sightings. The Irish Times says (p. 7)

It is considered certain that the Zeppelin which came down at Luneville [sic] yesterday, is the same one which was seen cruising over Vesoul, and flying low over the forts of Epinol [sic]. It is therefore estimated that the vessel must have flown over about 24 miles of French territory. French aeronautical experts have naturally taken advantage of this opportunity to find out as much as possible about the aerial visitor.

While a leading article in the Irish Independent notes that (p. 4)

All through the foreign airship scare in England no one succeeded in actually sighting the mysterious airship, though its lights were alleged to have been seen from time to time. The French have been more lucky, for they actually captured, though not through any merit of their own, the newest and biggest of the German Zeppelin dirigibles.

And the Dundee Courier asks 'WAS ZEPPELIN Z4 THE MYSTERY AIRSHIP SEEN OVER BRITAIN'? (p. 5; above):

It is interesting to note that the dirigible is that which has been suspected of visiting various points along the British coast.

After a brief summary of the Sheerness affair and the sensation it caused, the Courier discusses 'France "seeing things"' as well as Britain:

Since then there has been a remarkable succession of reports from various British coast centres, and though it is probable that most of these may have been due to an over-heated public imagination it has emerged in the telegrams regarding the Zeppelin's latest exploit that France has also been 'seeing things' in the way of nocturnal aerial visitors.

Unfortunately, no details are provided of these French scareships.

This post is part of an experiment in post-blogging the scareship wave of January-April 1913. See here for an introduction to the series.

Sunday, 30 March 1913

Sunday Independent, 30 March 1913, 3

The Dublin Sunday Independent has the following brief account of the phantom airship or aeroplane seen at Galway last week:

AIRSHIP OVER GALWAY

Several persons in Galway state that they saw an aeroplane over that city on Wednesday night [26 March 1913] at about 8.15. A man named M'Avoy, coachman to Mr. B. Parkes, said it was about 180 feet from the ground.

Unsurprisingly, this adds nothing to yesterday's much longer account in the Connacht Tribune — and the latter had Conroy for M'Avoy and B. Parks for B. Parkes, presumably the correct versions as Galway is in Connaught.

This post is part of an experiment in post-blogging the scareship wave of January-April 1913. See here for an introduction to the series.

Seeking Sonora

Dellschau 1969

The art of Charles Dellschau has been receiving some attention lately, thanks to the recent publication of a book about his work. Dellschau, who produced thousands of strange and wonderful watercolours, drawings and collages in Houston, Texas, between about 1899 and 1922, is significant as an early outsider artist, but he is mainly of interest to me for two things. Firstly, his subject matter: his artwork is filled with strange flying machines (balloons? airships? aeroplanes?) intermingled with press clippings about aviation. Secondly, his overarching narrative: that his artwork records the activities of the Sonora Aero Club, a secret group of airminded inventors who actually created and flew the aircraft he depicted in California in the mid-nineteenth century. This is a beguiling idea, and some of Dellschau's admirers have tried to find out whether it is actually true (such as Pete Navarro, who is largely responsible for rescuing Dellschau's work). The Atlantic describes it as 'The Amazing Story of an Airship Club That Might Never Have Existed', as though we should be surprised if it had not. But it seems abundantly clear to me that we can in fact say that it pretty much definitely never existed. There is no evidence for the Sonora Aero Club that does not appear in Dellschau's artwork, but plenty against it elsewhere in the historical record.
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