by Greg Baughen
Fairey did not have to wait long for orders. In 1934, the existence of a new German Air Force was already an open secret. Planes like the single-engined Heinkel He 70 passenger plane were achieving sensational speeds and there seemed no reason why it could not carry bombs instead of passengers. In March 1935, Hitler formally confirmed the existence of the Luftwaffe, and reports from Germany suggested German air strength was already overtaking the RAF, with bomber production increasing at a particularly alarming rate. A panicky government enlisted the help of Lord Weir, a former Air Minister and advocate of strategic bombing, to pep up British efforts.
Weir believed that aircraft design was now so advanced, it was no longer necessary to wait for prototype trials. In April 1935, he asked Charles Fairey how quickly his company could deliver the Battle bomber if it went into production before the prototype flew. Fairey assured Weir they could deliver the first by February 1936 and the RAF would have 300 by March 1937.28 It was much more of a risk than Weir appreciated. Aircraft design had not reached the stage where the characteristics of a plane could be predicted with any certainty. The engine was also a risk: the early Merlins were far from reliable and the latest Merlin F had not even been fully tested yet. Nevertheless, it was decided to take a chance and use this version as the power plant. The final order was for just 155 Battles, rather than the 300 originally suggested, so that Fairey could build fifty Hendon heavy bombers as well. Fairey took over the Willys-Overland Crossley car plant in Stockport to build the planes.29
The Battle programme was soon running behind schedule. One of the more serious problems was the late-stage discovery in the prototype construction that the bomb dropping system was completely unworkable and required a major redesign. Setting up an aircraft factory from scratch was also more difficult than anticipated, as finding sufficient skilled workers proved impossible. When the Air Ministry visited the Stockport factory in January 1936, there was no sign of any of the 155 on order being built. The experienced workers Fairey had taken on were teaching the inexperienced their jobs, rather than building planes.30
This discovery did nothing to improve the already strained relations between Fairey and the Ministry. Charles Fairey was not considered the easiest of people to deal with, and he was soon blaming the Hendon heavy bomber order for holding things up. The company was rather anxious to drop the ungainly Hendon and concentrate on the much more modern looking Battle, a plane far more likely to attract export orders. The Hendon may have belonged to a previous era of bomber design, but it had the redeeming quality of being able to carry more bombs further than the Battle, a capability the British government needed if the country was to have a credible deterrent. For Fairey, this was not a consideration and he was quite right in believing the Battle was the better prospect for export. This was not just because the design was more advanced, nor because it was cheaper than the Hendon. Most countries did not want large, long-range heavy bombers. They wanted bombers to support their armies and the Battle offered high performance over the shorter ranges they needed.
The Air Ministry rather resented the way in which Fairey was holding them to ransom by promising more Battles if the Hendon was cancelled. However, they too could also see the advantages of the cheaper Battle. Rather deviously, they manoeuvred Fairey into a position where he asked for the Hendon order to be cancelled, thereby avoiding any need to pay compensation. However, it did little to advance the deliveries of Battles: all the Air Ministry got from Fairey in exchange was a promise to build fifteen more Battles by March 1937. None of this manoeuvring was helping to improve relations between Fairey and the Ministry.31
It was a measure of how fast speed criteria had changed by early 1936 that Ellington was actually disappointed the Battle was not going to be much faster than 250 mph.32 Nevertheless, Ellington and the Air Ministry were convinced that they had a priceless war winner. When the Soviet Union showed some interest in buying the plane, Air Ministry made it clear to Fairey that there was no chance of them exporting any of Britain’s latest bomber until at least 1938.33
Early in 1936, the government authorised Scheme F, which set out planned production for the period of March 1937 to March 1939, and the Battle was a key element of this plan. Although the prototype was behind schedule and had not flown yet, Fairey were given a contract to build another 500. The Air Ministry actually needed even more single-engined bombers and Fairey were disappointed that they had been asked to build so few. The company insisted that the large Stockport factory would be capable of delivering far more once its teething problems had been sorted out. All the Air Ministry would offer was the prospect of more orders if the first 655 were delivered on time. A shadow factory run by Austin Motor Company was set up to build another 900.
Even these orders did not satisfy the RAF’s need for single-engined bombers; Hawker were asked to build 500 Henleys, designed to meet the P.4/34 light bomber requirement. The number of single-engined bombers on order had risen to nearly 2,000 out of the 3,500 bombers required.34 Ministers questioned this reliance on small single-engined bombers—would it not be better to build large heavy bombers? Ellington insisted single-engined bombers had an important part to play, even in a war with Germany. There would not be a problem with range, as they could operate from France. The single-engined bombers were easier to fly, an important consideration, he insisted, with so many auxiliary squadrons manned by inexperienced crews. They were the only planes capable of dive-bombing and easy to transport abroad if they were needed elsewhere.35 These were not the most convincing of arguments for a government anxious to match the terrifying mayhem the German bomber fleet appeared capable of inflicting on British cities.
The Air Minister, Lord Swinton, was far from convinced. On more than one occasion, he specifically asked Ellington to compare the advantages and disadvantages of single-engined and twin-engined bombers. There was little to choose between the two, the Chief of Air Staff insisted. The twin-engined design might be able to carry more on overload.36 There were some on his Air Staff who feared that relying on a single engine during long-range missions might not be good for morale.37 That was about it—even these problems might be resolved with the next generation of engines. Fairey were developing their 1,600-hp P.24 Monarch engine, essentially two Prince engines joined together and driving two coaxial propellers, which would effectively give the single-engined bomber the security of two engines. There was much excitement in the Air Ministry at the prospect of this engine powering a future generation of medium bombers.38 The Merlin-powered Battle was by no means supposed to be the end of the single-engined approach; Fairey were already drawing up plans for a more advanced Monarch-powered Battle.39
The Government was hardly likely to object too strongly to cheaper single-engined bombers. The Air Ministry seemed to be offering the government a modern bomber deterrent at a price the country could afford. Even if the Battle could not lift many bombs, it could give the government numerical parity with the German Air Force.40 The policy was great news for Fairey: the government had ordered around 1,400 Battles compared to just 180 twin-engined Wellingtons.
The prototype eventually flew in March 1936, and impressed all who flew it. It was easy to fly, remarkably manoeuvrable for a plane of its size, and it retained its pleasant handling characteristics at all speeds. It was a rather docile plane, a reflection of its relatively low power for such a large plane. It had nothing like the acceleration of the Hawker Hart light bomber it was going to replace, but it was not supposed to be a light bomber. Its power–weight ratio was still an improvement on the Horsley medium bomber, and its top speed was an impressive 257 mph, with Fairey promising it would eventually be capable of 266 mph.41, 42 The plane was immediately unveiled to the world. Within days of its first flight, The Morning Post’s headline boldly proclaimed, ‘The RAF Has the World’s Fastest Bomber’.43 The plane’s performance in terms of speed, bomb load, and powers of manoeuvre were so good, the newspaper claimed it would ‘sound the death knell of the single-seater
fighter’.44
The plane’s excellent flying characteristics had justified the gamble to order the plane off the drawing board. Weir was not getting his Battles as quickly as expected, but at least Fairey had been able to make a start with the Stockport plant and was well ahead of the shadow factory Austin were setting up. The Air Ministry was not helping Fairey by continuing to demand changes to the design. Relying on the second crewmember to be gunner and bomb aimer seemed risky as the plane was most likely to come under attack when actually bombing its target. With no-one in the gunner’s position, the plane would be defenceless. There was also a case for a specialist navigator over the greater ranges the plane would now be expected to operate. Much to the dismay of the Fairey design team, the Air Ministry wanted the plane to carry a third crewmember, who would be responsible for bomb aiming and navigation.
Initially the idea was for just the leading plane to carry the extra crewman, while the rest of the formation would follow and drop their bombs on his instruction. However, the third crewmember soon became standard for all Battles. Whether he could help much with navigation was doubtful, as he would be cocooned in the central cabin, with no satisfactory view out—scarcely ideal for a navigator. Indeed, it would be so difficult for the third crewmember to do his job, some felt it was unfair even to call him a navigator. He might be able to help, but the pilot was the only person who could see where the plane was going and had to be primarily responsible for navigating.45
The design would now have to carry yet more weight and this was becoming a major concern, as the plane was at the very limit its Merlin engine could cope with. The ideal solution was more power, and so the design team were on the lookout for any suitable engine. They were already considering Fairey’s own 1,600-hp Monarch, and were also looking into the 1,700-hp Vulture, which Rolls-Royce had scarcely started work on.46 However, a more immediate way of resolving the problem was to reduce weight, and so the company came up with a list of items they believed the plane could do without. The Air Ministry agreed to most of Fairey’s suggestions, but not the theory that the single-forward firing gun was of little use and ought to be discarded. The Air Ministry had to admit Fairey were right and there was no logical reason for retaining the gun, ‘but effect on crew moral is substantial’.47 The future tactical bomber had nearly lost its only ground strafing capability.
Despite Fairey’s concerns about the increasing weight of the plane, the Air Staff remained convinced they had a war-winning bomber that would remain an important part of Bomber Command for some time to come. Such high hopes would be very short-lived.
2
The Battle Becomes Obsolete
The RAF did not get its first Battle until May 1937. No. 63 Squadron was the first to re-equip, and they found themselves flying a plane that was a joy to fly. It was also extremely tough, a quality many aircrew were grateful for when early versions of the Merlin developed an unfortunate habit of cutting out soon after take-off. Pilots forced to crash-land would find their Battle ploughing safely through any fences, hedges and other obstacles that got in its way, its crew usually emerging uninjured.1 The plane was vastly superior to the Hawker Harts it was replacing. It was also faster than most RAF fighters, and no slower than the Gladiator, which had also only just entered service. Even more importantly, it was also considerably faster than the Heinkel He 51, which still equipped most Luftwaffe fighter units. If war had broken out in the summer of 1937, the Fairey Battles would have been untouchable—if they managed to avoid the handful of Bf 109s that were beginning to arrive. But deliveries were disappointingly slow: by the end of July, the RAF only had ten.
The pilots might have been impressed, but the Air Ministry was already beginning to have second thoughts. It was not the emergence of the Bf 109 that was worrying them; it was the performance of the Battle when compared to the alternative British designs. The Air Staff had always known that the single-engined bomber had disadvantages. The defensive armament was weak with just a fixed forward-firing gun and only a single hand-held gun to defend the rear, nor was there much room for the navigator to work. These disadvantages had always been accepted because the technical experts insisted that the single-engined bomber would always be the fastest way of delivering bombs, even to a target as distant as Berlin. The experts, however, were wrong. The twin-engined Bristol Blenheim was flying and soon proved it could carry the same load for the same distance much quicker. Single-engined bombers were not the best any more. Indeed, the experts were beginning to change their tune completely. Some recent (albeit somewhat questionable) research by the Royal Aircraft Establishment suggested that the bigger and more powerful the bomber was, the faster it would fly.2
To compound the Battle’s problems, its range was no longer good enough. The government wanted bombers that could reach any target in Germany from bases in Britain; the Foreign Office could not freely flex Britain’s deterrent if it had to get French permission to use its airfields. For the deterrent to work as a political tool, bombers had to be able to reach any targets in Germany from British airfields. With its auxiliary fuselage tank, the Battle could just about get to Berlin and back from bases in Britain, but only if it dawdled along at its most economical cruising speed (157 mph), and spending so long in enemy airspace was not a good idea. At a safer maximum cruising speed (222 mph), range was about 1,000 miles, which was only enough to reach Berlin from bases in France. The Air Staff had other reasons for wanting greater range: Italy was a growing threat in the Mediterranean, and the extra range would be useful in the Middle East. Suddenly the single-engined bomber was not what the Air Staff wanted.
Even the twin-engined Blenheim now had problems. It could not reach Berlin from airfields in Britain either, and it was also heading down the path towards obsolescence. The Air Staff were now pinning their hopes on the much larger twin-engined Manchester and the four-engined Halifax and Stirling. The twin-engined B.9/32 bombers, the Hampden and the Wellington, were no longer back-up designs only needed for comparison purposes. They could reach Berlin from bases in Britain; they were what the RAF needed until the next generation of heavy bombers arrived, not Fairey Battles.
The first sign that Ellington was changing his mind about the Battle came on 24 November 1936, long before the plane entered service. At Swinton’s weekly review, Ellington told the Air Minister and Weir that he did not want any more Battles ordered for the post-1939 phase of RAF expansion.3 At the 19 January 1937 meeting, Ellington went further and tentatively suggested reducing the number of Battles already on order. He carefully avoided any mention of the plane’s poor defensive armament, range or navigational capabilities, and justified the suggestion on purely production grounds. Fairey were slipping behind on their promises, he pointed out. Just three months before, Fairey had produced a revised lower production forecast, but they were already 125 down on this. Ellington suggested cancelling the 125, since after March 1939 ‘the bomber would be obsolescent’.4 It was not a very convincing pretext. Fairey had been well behind their production promises ever since the first order was placed, but this had not stopped the Air Ministry ordering more. March 1939 seemed rather soon for a bomber that had not even entered service to become obsolescent.
Swinton was dumbfounded: ‘We have been concentrating for months past on the Battle as one of our greatest assets.’5 He could not believe that it was now being suggested the order should be reduced. Pushed for an explanation for this sudden change of mind, Ellington merely suggested that relying on a single engine would be demoralising for the crew, a point he had not considered so important just a few weeks before. Swinton could not see why falling behind on production was such a big issue—surely Fairey would be able to make up the deficit long before 1939. Ellington insisted the company had to be warned now in case it ordered materials that would not be needed. This argument did not cut much ice either. The company was under pressure to complete the order as quickly as possible and had almost certainly already ordered all the materials it needed.
/> The ‘obsolescent’ tag had emerged for the first time. The ‘obsolescent’ or ‘obsolete’ tag would accompany the plane for the rest of its career and beyond. For the rest of the Battle’s story, it is important to emphasise precisely why the Air Ministry now believed the plane was well on the way to becoming obsolete. The Air Ministry was not talking about the normal obsolescence any design must eventually succumb to. Ellington was quite happy to replace the Battle on Fairey production lines with the Wellington, the plane built to meet the parallel B.9/32 twin-engined bomber specification. The Battle’s problem was that it was now becoming clear that the plane could not operate deep inside enemy air space; it was not fast enough to evade interception and, unlike the Blenheim, it did not have the defensive firepower to beat off fighters. Any bomber that could not operate on its own without aid, deep inside enemy air space was, by Air Staff criteria, obsolete.
Ellington, however, was still rather reluctant to admit a mistake had been made. His reasons for wanting to reduce Battle orders did not get much sympathy from Weir. He visited the Stockport factory in January 1937 and, although Fairey had not yet completed any Battles, Weir was generally impressed by the way the company was tackling the problems they faced. He felt the plane was a rather elaborate design that was not suited to mass production, but the company had done as well as could be expected in very difficult circumstances. There was no reason to believe that they would not eventually match and even exceed predicted output. Ellington was still reluctant to elaborate on why he had changed his mind about the bomber. It might not yet be the right time to be talking about cancelling the Battles, he conceded, but it was something that would have to be considered soon.6