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255 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1908
that with the flying machine war alters in its character; it ceases to be an affair of 'fronts' and becomes an affair of 'areas'; neither side, victor or loser, remains immune from the gravest injuries, and while there is a vast increase in the destructiveness of war, there is also an increased indecisiveness. Consequently 'War in the Air' means social destruction instead of victory as the end of war. It not only alters the methods of war but the consequences of war.
"Bert, craning his neck through the cabin porthole, saw the whole of that incident, that first encounter of aeroplane and ironclad. He saw the queer German Drachenflieger, with their wide flat wings and square, box-shaped heads, their wheeled bodies, and their single-man riders soar down the air like a flight of birds... One to the right pitched down extravagantly, shot steeply up into the air, burst with a loud report, and flamed down into the sea; another plunged nose forward into the water and seemed to fly to pieces as it hit the waves."
"He saw little men on the deck of the Theodore Roosevelt below, men foreshortened in plan into mere heads and feet, running out preparing to shoot at the [other Drachenflieger]. Then the foremost flying machine was rushing between Bert and the American deck, and then bang! came the thunder of its bomb flung neatly at the forward barbette and a thin little crackling of rifle shots in reply. Whack whack whack, went the quick-firing guns of the American's battery and smash came the answering shell from the Fuerst Bismarck. Then a second and third flying-machine passed between Burt and the American ironclad, dropping bombs also, and a fourth, it's rider hit by a bullet, reeled down and dashed itself to pieces and exploded between the shot-torn funnels, blowing them apart. Bert had a momentary glimpse of a little black creature jumping from the crumpling frame of the flying machine, hitting the funnel, and falling limply, to be instantly caught and driven to nothingness by the blaze and rush of explosion."
"Smash! came a vast explosion in the forward part of the flagship, and a huge piece of metalwork seemed to lift out of her and dump itself into the sea, dropping men and leaving a gap into which a prompt Drachenflieger planted a flaring bomb. And then for an instant Bert perceived only too clearly in the growing, pitiless light a number of minute, convulsively active animalculae scorched and struggling in the Theodore Roosevelt's foaming wake. What were they? Not men - surely not men? Those drowning, mangled little creatures tore with their clutching fingers at Bert's soul."
"Bert stood on the gallery, curious to see the execution, but uncomfortable because that terrible blond Prince was within a dozen feet of him, glaring terribly, with his arms folded and his heels together in military fashion.
They hung the man from the Adler. They gave him sixty feet of rope, so that he should hang and dangle in the sight of all evil-doers who might be hiding matches or contemplating any kindred disobedience. Bart saw the man standing, a living, reluctant man, no doubt scared and rebellious enough in his heart, but outwardly erect and obedient, on the lower gallery of the Adler about a hundred yards away. Then they thrust him overboard...
Down he fell, hands and feet extended, until with a jerk he was at the end of the rope. Then he ought to have died and swung edifyingly, but instead a more terrible thing happened; his head came right off, and down the body went spinning into the sea, feeble, grotesque, fantastic, and with the head racing it in its fall."
"...The [missing] bird-faced officer was already rubbing shoulders with certain inert matter that had once been Lieutenant Kurt and the Chinese aeronaut and a dead cow, and much other uncongenial company, in the huge circle of the Whirlpool two and a quarter miles away. Never had that great gathering place, that incessant, aimless, unprogressive hurry of waste and battered things been so crowded with strange and melancholy derelicts. Round they went and round, and every day brought it's new contributions, luckless brutes, shattered fragments of boat and flying-machine, endless citizens from the cities upon the shores of the great lakes above. Much came from Cleveland. It all gathered here, and whirled about indefinitely, and over it all gathered daily a greater abundance of birds."
"[Tom] sucked his old gums thoughtfully, and his gaze strayed away across the valley to where the shattered glass of the Crystal Palace glittered in the sun. A dim, large sense of waste and irrevocably lost opportunities pervaded his mind. He repeated his ultimate judgment upon all these things, obstinately, slowly, and conclusively, his final saying on the matter.
'You can say whay you like,' he said. 'It didn't ought ever to 'ave begin.'
He said it simply - somebody somewhere ought to have stopped something, but who or how or why were beyond all his ken."
HERE in 1941 The War in the Air is being reprinted once again.
It was written in 1907 and first published in 1908.
It was reprinted in 1921, and then I wrote a preface which also I am reprinting.
Again I ask the reader to note the warnings I gave in that year, twenty years ago.
Is there anything to add to that preface now? Nothing except my epitaph.
That, when the time comes, will manifestly have to be: "I told you so. You _damned_ fools."