Abstract
So much has been written about the role of air power during the Second World War that it is rather striking to realize that a great deal of what was claimed for its fearsome potential from the mid- to later 1930s was based on often very poor British intelligence assessments and predictions, ‘the masses’ understandably over-reacting to propaganda, media reports, and aviation experts’ sometimes wildly pessimistic predictions. Expert opinion, yet which had little to go on other than their best guesses – for instance the views of Claude Grahame-White and Harry Harper (p. 52) – too rapidly came to dominate popular perceptions. This even had a corrosive impact on government, many accounts of air power emphasizing Baldwin’s gloomy 1932 mantra that ‘the bomber will always get through’ (p. 57), which indeed it did in the latter part of 1940, but not with quite the devastating results prophesized.
Yet, as Holman confirms, the construction of this highly misguided belief had in fact begun in Britain almost 25 years earlier, just as aviation’s military potential began to be recognized. Progressively thereafter, anxieties about a ‘knock-out blow’ wrought by a mass – if technologically nascent – bomber attack, and the inevitable ‘air panic’ amongst the civilian population, almost paralyzed rational government assessments. Most striking is the manner in which this myth – for such it was – was able to firmly take hold, first through the actually limited experiences of the First World War where, for instance, German Gotha bombers and Zeppelins attacked Britain (and which led to the formation of the Air Ministry), and in the second case, as the febrile atmosphere of the 1920s and 30s gave way to ever more extraordinary claims for the devastating potential of air power.
Holman’s achievement here is in thoroughly charting and navigating this sometimes irrational British fear of the bomber from 1908 to 1941. Confirmed throughout are the responses of both government and wider society to this menace, and also the uncritical manner in which many accepted the dogma, and reacted accordingly, often simply allowing themselves during the 1930s to be cowed during a time when both fascism and pacifism were on the rise. In demonstrating that attempts to control air power through the auspices of international peace and disarmament agreements and even an ‘international air force’ had their roots in nineteenth-century liberalism (p. 162), Holman also confirms that serious but ultimately unsuccessful attempts were made both to mollify and secure agreements about the size, capability, and reach of air power so as to neuter the need for a decisive air attack. Citing the period 1935–1938 as the ‘high water mark of knock-out blow literature’ (p. 56), Holman confirms how corrosive this was in shaping attitudes to Nazism, thus giving rise to the shrill voices of appeasement, demanding peace at any price.
By the mid-1930s then, authoritative British reactions to Nazi propaganda had much to answer for, as Goering’s Luftwaffe was credited with an almost supernatural capability. Not all though agreed with its primacy, the Spanish Civil War giving some, at least, pause for thought. Guernica, although ghastly, did not quite provide the ‘final proof’ of air power’s potency that some had argued. The Luftwaffe’s strategic limitations were soon revealed during the Battle of Britain and Blitz, as its twin-engined bomber fleet proved unable to deliver the necessary destructive mass to decide events, but not before the capitulation of France and the Low Countries, where a combined-operations, close air support doctrine had proved decisive against demoralized and poorly led forces. By May 1941 as Hitler turned east, it was obvious – despite some 40,000 British civilian casualties – that air power alone had been unable to force a British capitulation. Thereafter, but not explored here, Nazi propaganda – hitherto preying on the anxieties of those facing the threat of annihilation – lost an arguably critical element of its psychological warfare capability.
In explaining this fear of the air war, Holman’s book is usefully organized into three parts: the first narrates the construction of the mythical ‘knock-out blow’, 1908–1931, counterpointing this with representations of the bomber as a tangible threat; part II charts responses to the menace of air power, including treaties and civil defence; whilst part III recounts perceptions of the German air menace, and the examples, in 1938, of Barcelona, Canton, and London. Lastly, the chapter ‘Battles of London: 1917 and 1940’ confirms the actual experiences of being attacked by air, relative to what was previously believed might happen.
Drawing principally upon fictional and non-fictional published assessments – but far less so, official British government sources – Holman explores in impressive detail the very nuanced and complex nature of this debate. A chronology confirming the key developments and events of this critical 33-year period would have provided useful ‘way-markers’ through which to navigate the text, as would, say, an appendix or two confirming the appearance and impact of major publications and debates, as the fear of the ‘knock-out blow’ waxed and waned. Illustrations of posters, film-stills, and other graphic materials might have further enhanced the text – these are though merely minor suggestions. Holman’s narrative addresses a hitherto neglected dimension of twentieth-century air power, providing a valuable, scholarly, and thoroughly researched contribution to its historiography. It is ironic that almost 80 years later, similar issues continue to dominate British strategic thinking, former senior commanders – in noting 1930s appeasement – expressing concern that recent, severe defence cuts ‘leave us looking feeble in the eyes of the world’ (Daily Telegraph, 14.6.2015, p. 24). This suggests a continuing inability to fully recognize the lessons of a failure to maintain adequate defensive and offensive air power during the 1920s and 1930s.