By Bob Tedder • One hundred years have now passed since the guns of World War One fell silent in November 1918. The five new angels of death – machine guns, tanks, chemical weapons, submarines and airplanes – making their ominous appearance on the battlefields of Europe provide weight to the conclusion that this was the first modern war. Of the five, it is the airplane which most often captures the imagination of the general public. “Fighters of World War One” edited by Andrew Kershaw documents the arrival of death’s fifth angel over the skies of Europe and may be viewed from two perspectives; one technical the other moral.
This book is one of eight in a series of Purnell’s History of the World Wars Special. One need look no further than the book’s cover to discover what awaits the biblio-curious. There, vintage planes soar over a colorful red starburst which loudly proclaims the “64 pages packed with colour.” The editor and artist in turn fulfill this promise by delivering an amazing amount of written and visual documentation of aerial warfare in its infancy. This information in general follows a chronological progression dictated not so much by the calendar as by technological advancements.
What started as an adjunct to an army’s ability to reconnitor quickly evolved into an aerial ballet of three-dimensional warfare. The book populates this transition with the personalities, planes and inventions which made it possible. Full-color drawings, period photographs and easily understood graphics detail the astonishing achievements aviation made in the 15 years human flight had been in existence. Yet as technological advances emerge from the imperatives of war their price is always paid with human coin.
Although the book does discuss contemporary accounts which cast daring aviators as knights of the sky engaged in chivalrous aerial jousts, it does not ignore the horrors of war. The captions of three war photographs illustrate the point: “The grisly result of an early wartime duel in the air,” “The charred remains of an Albatross and its pilot” and “Not so lucky were Zeppelin crew, one of whom left this imprint on landing.” It was these three photographs more than any which set a tone of respect for those men who chose this job while standing mute testimony to the price of material advancement. In spite of its implied morbidity, the book is an excellent primer on its designated subject. It does not demand to be read but serves as a great companion to a hot cup of coffee. Both are available at the Speckled Paw.