David M Thomas - The Schneider Papers

The corridor door opened suddenly and with such force that the heavy door bounced off the back wall. An aircraftsman slowly reversed in, arms upwards holding and carrying one end of a portable noticeboard. In he shuffled, then a slow coordinated move to the right; the rest of the board and his partner holding the other end followed. This contraption was also a map display and blackboard. It was carefully positioned between the table and the fireplace, followed by a tall adjustable projector table which was placed on one end of the table. More orderlies came and went carrying files, an easel, a slide projector, screen, and rolls of maps, which were carefully placed on the floor. A Flight Sergeant then came in, and set up the equipment, a cable extension for the slide projector, and the careful disposition of all the visual aids facing the table. He checked the power supply, the lighting, and with a curt nod, left. The sergeant returned carrying a 16mm film projector and connected it up.

In they came, single file, through the annex door from the waiting room, one, two … four, five uniforms, counted Mason. They came immediately over to the table and each in turn introduced themselves. Squadron Leader Jacobs from Air Intelligence, Flight Lieutenant Rhys from the Photography Reconnaissance Unit, Squadron Leaders Powell and Lander from Supply and Research, Group Captain Logan from Air Ministry Intelligence, and a smiling, suited civilian, no name offered, who just said he was from Whitehall. Medium height, fair haired, mid-thirties. Mason wondered if the double breasted summer suit was French tailoring. Certainly a continental cut. Introductions over, small talk just beginning, as if on cue, Group Captain Starling returned, smiled at everyone, and asked all to sit, ‘Where you see a chair, please park. Group Captain Logan from the Air Intelligence unit will kick off by setting the scene.’

Logan started, ‘Gentlemen, welcome. The subject is Germany, the Reich, and in particular German airpower, strategy and capability.’ He began to slowly walk up and down the office, causing the audience to move their heads or even shift in their seats to follow him. A pacer, thought Mason, who decided not to follow the voice but to stare at the noticeboard and listen. ‘Where is Germany going? And, is it in our best interests for it to get there? Indeed, gentlemen, where is there?

‘First a fact. Herr Hitler has a plan. That we can be sure of.’ He glanced at everyone around the table, but more so at Mason.

Mason realised that this whole show was for him. Why? he thought, what is all this leading up to?

‘Without repeating our 1934 intelligence figures on German rearmament numbers, the new Airforce, the Luftwaffe, the Army, the Wehrmacht and the Navy, the Kreigsmarine are growing, I won’t say growing exponentially, that would be wrong, a hyperbole, but we do have a serious problem on our hands.’

Logan picked up a glass of water from the table and drank from it.

‘Herr Hitler, following his Weimar predecessors, but this time openly, brazenly, is driving a coach and horses through the now defunct Versailles Treaty, building new military hardware; and he had started doing just that before tearing up the military clauses in the Treaty last year. With the illegal invasion of the demilitarised Rhineland in March of this year, we conclude that Nazi Germany is building itself up to a war footing. The genie, gentlemen, is well and truly out of the bottle.’

He paused.

‘One of our tasks at Air Ministry Intelligence is to predict the future. That is, we analyse the scale of historic German aircraft building, and extrapolate, that is to say, we assume that existing production figures or trends will continue and increase in the future. We also consider new factors, like new aircraft that could alter the dynamics of dogfights and bombing capabilities.’

Logan folded his arms and continued, ‘We have expanded from 52 to 75 squadrons; the Hawker Hurricane fighter will start to be distributed towards the end of the year. Production started in June. We’ve tested and are pleased with the Supermarine Spitfire, operational entry date next year if all goes well. We are, however, concerned over the possible superiority of German fighter types, in particular the new Bf109 fighter, and new bombers on which we only have some bits of intelligence, nothing concrete. The Junkers made Ju52, which is supposed to be a civilian transport aircraft under Treaty of Versailles rules, and one sees Lufthansa Junkers 52 passenger aircraft everywhere, but it can, and has, been modified to carry bombs, soldiers and parachutists.’

He stopped, let out a faint sigh, and folded his arms. It was as if all this information, all the intelligence information in his head was too much for him. The burden was great, too great. These past few weeks had been hell. He had become an insomniac. Sleeping tablets were his night-time friend. Ironically, others in the Planning Department were on amphetamines to keep them awake. So many tasks to complete.

‘We know that Herr Hitler has been and is sending the Luftwaffe to Spain. What an ideal environment to test and modify untested war planes under fighting conditions. But what we don’t know is what sort of aircraft he’ll send apart from the standard biplanes already in his inventory.

‘Let us say that the fighter aircraft position of this country is covered. But gentlemen, we believe there is no future if we cannot defend ourselves against aerial bombardment.’

‘But surely sir, our new monoplanes should be more than a match for the Bf109 and if so, then the bombers would be easy targets,’ interjected Mason. A pause. Silence.

‘You are right, and you are wrong,’ replied Logan slowly as he sat down, indicating the introductory speech was over, and he was tired. ‘We believe, we hope, that the new Hurricane and Spitfire will be more than a match to the Bf109, but they will have more of them. We do not have our new fighters in service. Our latest intelligence figures put Luftwaffe front line fighter strength at 350 aircraft and growing. All we have right now is the Gloster Gladiator biplane, due on line February next year, and probably obsolete, according to some pessimists. That, Mason, is the stark reality!’

Logan sat sideways, one forearm resting on the table, the other hand in his pocket. An exhausted man.

He spoke quietly, ‘To come back to your point, attrition rate in a dog fight is the key; the bombers will rely on fighter escort. Take away the escort and you are right, we are on top. But throw in numerical superiority of the Bf109 into the equation and, well, the conclusion is obvious.

‘They are ahead of us in the re-armament game. We are playing catch-up. If the geopolitical scene changes drastically, which some people think likely, then this country would be caught with its trousers down, and we don’t want that to happen, now do we chaps?! I mean, what would the neighbours say?!’ A touch of humour to accompany bad news always helps, doesn’t it? Logan thought so, and he smiled weakly. No one else smiled or acknowledged the quip.

Someone, Mason had forgotten his name and speciality, threw in a comment on the Messerschmitt Bf109, followed by another comment from someone else. Another subject altogether brought up by probably Squadron Leader Rhys … someone else contradicted … forum getting out of control; unauthorised off piste skiing is not allowed in the nest of Group Captain Starling. He stopped it with a dramatic slam of his hand down on his desk, followed by a mild, ‘Gentlemen, please,’ plea for order.

Starling had sat at his desk during the introduction. ‘What we need is your friend Whittle’s gas turbine machine to work, Mason,’ he said loudly.

Mason turned around in his chair to face Starling. ‘I visited him a few weeks ago in Rugby. He’s frustrated with the erratic running of the turbine, but is confident that he can get it to calm down.’