Yesterday’s muted announcement of a British retreat in Burma is followed today by more prominent headlines of a further withdrawal, albeit this time in the Taungdwingyi sector. But while the front page of the Yorkshire Post (above) grimly declares that OUR retirement through Central Burma is bringing us nearer the plains of Mandalay and the […]
Most newspapers today lead with the story of a successful Commando raid on the French coast near Boulogne early yesterday morning — though only the Daily Mirror (above), rather bizarrely, focuses on the fact that ‘All wore gym shoes’ (1) (apart from the ex-Limehouse police inspector who wore slippers). More colour is provided by the
The Lebaudy-built Patrie, seen above, was France’s first military airship. A descendent of the Jaune, in 1906 and 1907 it carried out a number of successful proving and publicity flights, including one where it carried the prime minister, Georges Clemenceau, over Paris. Afterwards it was moved to its operational base near the fortress of Verdun.
MONSTER EAR TRUMPETS FOR AIR DEFENCE During the last years of the Great War, sound detectors played an increasingly important part in the air defences of all the belligerents. Since those days they have undergone great development. Here the emperor of Japan is inspecting the huge trumpet-like detectors that work in conjunction with the anti-aircraft
Don Charlwood’s No Moon Tonight has a reputation as one of the best Bomber Command memoirs. Charlwood was a Victorian who joined the RAAF in 1941, trained as a navigator in Canada under the Empire Air Training Scheme, and then flew in Halifaxes and Lancasters with 103 Squadron at Elsham Wolds. Having survived his tour
Paris, 20 November 1903: the ghostly form of an airship floats past an equally ghostly Eiffel Tower, before a very solid crowd of completely entranced spectators. It is Le Jaune, ‘The Yellow’, the first of the successful Lebaudy series of French semi-rigid airships. The source of this photograph is a postcard sent to me by
FORETASTE OF THE FUTURE Of all the forms of gas used in the Great War, that which had the least disastrous consequences was “tear gas.” Its effect was to inflict temporary blindness on those who came in contact with it. This pathetic row of figures show men temporarily blinded in that way on the Western
Charles Kingsford Smith was and remains Australia’s most famous pioneer aviator. Among his feats: the first trans-Pacific flight, in both directions in fact (1928, east to west; 1934, west to east); the first non-stop trans-Australian flight (1928); the first trans-Tasman flight (1928). It’s probably fair to think of him as the Australian Lindbergh in terms
WILL THEY BE A COMMON SIGHT? Officers of the St. Johns Ambulance Brigade, who, in their black and white uniforms, are familiar and friendly figures to Londoners, are now preparing for the possibility that grim and terrible duties may one day fall to their lot. A number of them have recently received instruction in a
SUCH THINGS WILL HAPPEN In April, 1935, a Kentish Voluntary Aid Detachment of the British Red Cross Society conducted an air raid rehearsal. Here Red Cross men wearing box respirators and anti-gas clothing are rescuing a woman caught by gas in the open. With a heavy concentration of the deadly gases that modern chemists have
