Heligoland, the North Sea’s “Border Island”: A Mini Platform for Historic Anglo-German Rivalry

Geography, International Relations, Military history, Regional History

The small but strategic island that Britain gave away twice

Heligoland, is a tiny speck of land (a mere 0.67 sq mi) in the North Sea. The main island (Hauptinsel) is a formation of rock and stone cliffs frequently impacted by wind and storm – or as one observer described it, “an outcrop of sandstone and chalk” [Harry Campbell, Whatever Happened to Tanganyika? The place names that history left behind, (2007)]. It’s dominant geographical features are a 200-feet high Oberland (upper land) and a Unterland (lower land). Just to the main island’s east is a second, smaller island known as the Düne or Sandy Island for its collection of small beaches. Heligoland is 40 miles from the town of Cuxhaven in the Lower Saxony region of Germany (also close to and coming under the provincial administrative jurisdiction of Schleswig-Holstein), and some 290 to 300 miles from the nearest point on the British Isles.

The remoteness and fairly nondescript appearance of Heligoland (in German and Danish: Helgoland, presumably from Heyligeland, “Holy Land”) belies a rather colourful history of fluctuating fortunes, especially over the last two centuries. Up until 1807 the island was the property of Denmark (interrupted by one or two brief periods when it fell under the control of Hamburg). ThIs “No-Man’s Land” has traditionally served as something of a haven for mainlanders – a refuge from the severe climatic conditions of the German Bight, and also occasionally from Danish taxation officials [George Drower, Heligoland: The True Story of German Bight and the Island that Britain Betrayed (2002)].

In 1807, as the Napoleonic Wars raged in Europe, the British Navy under orders from Whitehall seized it from the Danes. Heligoland was of value to the British in the war against Napoleon as a means of circumventing the economic blockade imposed on Great Britain by the French emperor (the Continental system). Having Heligoland provided the British with a handy base to carry on (illegal) trade with Europe in defiance of Napoleon…between 1809 and 1811 alone, some £86 million worth of goods passed through the island and into the hands of German merchants. Heligoland’s economic activity flourished with most of the smuggled merchandise comprising tea, coffee, tobacco, rum and sugar from GB’s commodity-rich colonies around the globe [‘Heligoland’, (The British Empire), www.britishempire,co.uk/].

“The Gibraltar of the North Sea”

A spa was introduced to the island in 1826, luring visitors and holidayers from the nearby German mainland. Some came in search of a haven of a different kind, liberal Germans were attracted because it offered them, they believed, “a political retreat from the nationalistic fervour of their homeland” [‘Heligoland: Germany’s hidden gem in the North Sea’, (James Waterson), The Guardian, 24-Apr-2011, www.theguardian.com]. The new German-British trade ran hand-in-hand with the traditional island vocation of fishing (mainly for lobsters). The permanent population of Heligoland, despite the boost, has over the years remained pretty stable, never rising above 3,000 at any point (predominately the locals have been of German stock, speaking a North Friesian dialect).

A coloniser’s swap: Heligoland for Zanzibar

The status quo on Heligoland remained intact till the late part of the century. In 1890 the change occurred that was to have seismic repercussions in the 20th century. As part of “the scramble for Africa” at the time, the British traded Heligoland to Germany in return for Zanzibar and part of Tanganyika, adding to GB’s “patch-quilt pattern” of GB’s ‘pink’ colonies on the world map. But the British were to discover that the true cost was the loss of a significant strategic asset in it’s 20th century foreign policy. Heligoland’s location on a ‘corner’ of the North Sea guarded the entrance to the port of Hamburg and was approximate to the estuary of the Elbe, the Kiel Canal and three other great North European rivers (Drower).

Aerial view of Heligoland, between 1890 and 1900

With the European powers preoccupied with war preparations by the early 1900s, Imperial Germany strengthened the fortifications on Heligoland. When war (WWI) did come, Heligoland did not escape the conflict. It was the site of one of the earliest engagements of the war, the Battle of Heligoland Bight, and involved in one of the first seaplane attacks, the Cuxhaven Raid (Christmas Day 1914)(ibid.). Whatever the fortunes of the British and German forces in Heligoland, the biggest losers were the island’s inhabitants who were summarily ejected from their homes on the island, having been given no say in the matter. They were given only six hours to pack and take only what could be transported by hand. The house-holders’s bedding and furniture was left behind. They were ‘reassured’ that they would be able to return after the war was won – in a few weeks! (ibid.). After the war Germany in accordance with the Versailles Treaty was required to demilitarise Heligoland, it was however allowed to retain the island – despite entreaties to Britain from the islanders (returned from their five year-plus exile) that it take back its former colony (ibid.).

An artist’s impression of the Cuxhaven Raid

Island spring-time

The interwar period heralded something of an economic renaissance and the introduction of large-scale tourism for Heligoland. In the 1930s it annually drew 30,000 visitors with enhanced spending power to patronise the new fashionable drinking establishments and expensive gift shops. Adolf Hitler’s Nazi consolidation of power saw a rebuilding of the island’s fortifications. Hitler harboured other grand plans for Heligoland (an anti-aircraft fortress and a gigantic new naval base intended to rival the Royal Navy’s one) but these never came to fruition.

During the Second World War, Heligoland was the site of another early aerial/sea battle between GB and Germany and the onset of the global conflict in 1939. After the Allies gained the upper hand over Germany and it’s Axis partners, the British RAF subjected the fortified island to great devastation (over a two-day period in April 1945 7,000 bombs were dropped on the island, resulting in the flattening of the middle section of Hauptinsel).

Allied victory in the war did not mean a respite from the British destruction for the island. GB having taken interim charge of Heligoland, once again cleared the island of the local population and used it as a bomb-testing range over the next seven years. This assault included a British “Big Bang” (6,700 tonnes of explosives on one single day), thought to be the single largest non-nuclear explosions ever!) [Jan Rüger, Heligoland: Britain, Germany and the Struggle for the North Sea, (2016)].

German Federal Republic stamp commemorating the 1952 hand-back

Cold War sacrifice

After the war, the devastated state of the island proved good propaganda fodder for the new West German Federal government, allowing it to represent itself as “an emblem of German victimhood and nationalism“. In 1952, the Brits, preoccupied with the wider Western imperatives of the day (the Cold War), gave the tiny archipelago back to the West Germans as an inducement to bind them and their influential chancellor Adenauer firmly to the Western anti-Soviet camp [ibid.].

In peace, once more the rocky island reverted to a pleasant holiday destination for continental (mainly German) day-trippers. In the early 1960s Heligoland rebuilt it’s tourist industry and the island was transformed yet again into a modern holiday resort with attractive duty-free benefits and a new spa complex. The present ambience of the born-again island has been likened to “the understated charm of a classic British seaside resort, a miniature Scarborough transplanted into the middle of the German Bight”. Contemporary Heligoland and it’s harbour has also resumed its earlier role as a venue for yacht races. [Waterson, loc.cit.; Rüger, loc.cit.].

Germany’s only Hochseeinsel

For all they have suffered materially and emotionally as a consequence of British misrule, in war and in peace—the betrayals, the dismissive lack of consultation, the physical devastation—the Heligolanders seem to have buried that sorry chapter in the past. The German tourist spiel for the island depicts it as Deutschlands einzige meersinsel (“Germany’s only sea island”), projecting images of quaint and colourful fishermen’s harbourside cottages. Phrases such as “offshore oasis of relaxation”, “a unique natural setting(and)mild maritime climate” litter the pages of published promos (www.germany.travel/).

Footnote: Promised resort lifestyle aside, contemporary Heligoland eschews many of the trappings of modernity for a more minimalist if not entirely back-to-basics existence—no autos, no bicycles (push-scooters and hiking the prevailing modes of transport), no high-rise, no internet, no invasive smells, noises or sounds of industry—a diet of peace and tranquility and migratory bird-watching, befitting Heligoland’s curative, get-away-from-it-all role over much of it’s history.

Heligoland crest

︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻︻

these days the island also has a crater-shaped Mittelland (middle land), thanks to the British bomb-testing program of the Forties and early Fifties

severe storm action has massively altered the geology of Heligoland over the centuries…until 1720 the two islands were connected [‘Heligoland’, Wikipedia, http://en.m.wikipedia.org]

today they number around 1,500-2,500

Lord Salisbury, the architect of the exchange, had first had to overcome staunch internal opposition to the relinquishment of Heligoland, not least from Queen Victoria herself

three German light cruisers and one torpedo-boat was sunk

this has been a recurring motif with Heligoland, GB’s disposal of the island in 1890 was likewise done without consulting the 2,000 inhabitants of Heligoland

offshore island

Manchukuo Puppet Palace: Inside the Faux Empire of Pu-Yi

International Relations, Regional History, Travel

We got the Changchun light rail✽ to the Puppet Emperor’s Palace train station. The palace entrance was on a wide street with a coterie of policemen guarding the gate. Tickets were acquired in the booking office/souvenir shop opposite at a cost of 70 CN¥ per head (pensioners with ID, passport, free).

Although it said on a site website that you could hire an audio guide in English for the museum, the counter staff indicated that there were none available. Unfortunately, this deficiency was felt during the tour because there was a great lack of explanatory notes in English for the exhibits as well.

For a lot of people, outside China, the tour could be a very informative one, especially if your only prior knowledge of the last emperor of the ultimate Chinese (Qing) dynasty comes, for example, from a less than impeccable historical source such as films like Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Last Emperor.

With the use of language aids or without them, exploring the physical structures of the former Manchukuo (Manchu State) Imperial Palace provides a fascinating insight into a dark chapter of official life in Dongbei under the Japanese military occupation of the 1930s and 1940s.

‘Emperor’ Pu-Yi, his ’empress’ and the rest of the royal family lived in grand accommodation at the behest of their Japanese masters. Notwithstanding that the Pu-Yi regime was a contrived one propped up by a foreign invader and effectively wielded very little actual power itself in the region, the elaborate parts of the whole, the palatial splendour, were certainly befitting of a royal palace. Pu-Yi’s residential quarters and that of his family were definitely on the de luxe end of comfortable.

The palace layout divides into two main sections, the royal family’s area and the regime’s administrative area. This second section was larger than I had anticipated, comprising the offices and buildings allocated to the phoney emperor’s apparatus of government, his secretariat and other administrative functions.

One of the most interesting and sought-out items in the museum’s exhibits is the personal vehicle which belonged to Pu-Yi, a 5.7m long black car✪ housed in its own (garage) section of the complex. The “king-sized” vehicle is quite a rare old 1930s auto, a famous “Bubble Car” – American made by the Park Automobile Co. There’s a little souvenir annex attached to the ‘garage’ for car enthusiasts to secure a momento.

The palace contains a lot of Pu-Yi paraphernalia and minutiae, personal items like his traditional ceremonial garb, his official uniforms, his BP device and his trademark circular spectacles. Wall photos and information extracts chart the last Chinese monarch’s story from the imperial palace to incarceration to rehabilitation and life as an ordinary private citizen.

The environs of the palace buildings are well worth a ramble through. Within the grounds are gardens which are charming if (or because) they are a bit quirky. Next to this is a fish pond with a fountain and rockeries. Close by there the emperor’s swimming pool, sans water and it’s tilework is in quite a poor, dilapidated state.

The outside feature of the palace that most captured my imagination though was below it: an air-raid shelter. The increasingly paranoid puppet monarch (no doubt alarmed by the fading fortunes of Japan in the world war) had his own underground bunker constructed. The rooms in the bunkers were grimly threadbare, starkly contrasting with the lavish living quarters of the palace above.

Elsewhere there apparently used to be a tennis court and a small golf course on the grounds. To leave the palace you need to go through an inner gate which looks like the exit, but it’s not, the actual exit going from the palace to the street is further down a hill. As you walk, to your right look for the palace’s horse racetrack (still operating, there was show-jumping happening while we visited). The entire perimeter of the palace is surrounded by high concrete and brick walls.

For the historical narrative of Japan’s Manchurian Puppet-State in the Thirties and Forties, refer to my June 2019 blog entry, Manchukuo: An Instrument of Imperial Expansion for the Puppet-masters of Japan

For Pu-Yi to end up as the joker in the pack of playing cards sold at the Puppet Emperor Palace Museum would seem to many in China to be a apt footnote to his story.

︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︵︹︹

✽ light rail but still heavy security…even though we were travelling only four stations on a city subway network, we still had to submit to the body wave scanners and screening process and the baggage through the electronic detection belt

✪ about seven metres in length

The Incroyable Political Union of 1940, Part 2: Choosing Peace Without Honour and the Seeds of the Brits’ “Doing it My Way”

International Relations, Military history, Regional History

At a critical junction in the escalating crisis in France, Churchill and de Gaulle met at the Carlton Club in London on 16 June 1940. With an acute recognition of just how close and tangible French annihilation by the Nazi war machine was, the two men from each side of the English Channel agreed that union of the two countries was the necessary way forward. The agreed plan was for de Gaulle to take the British offer for an “indissoluble union” back to the French Council of Ministers (henceforth FCOM) for approval.

⬇️ Charles de Gaulle

F39801CA-02D0-4EC3-8601-AF56D98AF3E4Given the broken morale of the French army, an out-weaponised “spent force” utterly helpless to stop the Nazi Germany military machine from overrunning the country, surely the cabinet, as distasteful as the notion of a merger with Britain might sound to many patriotic French men and women, would endorse the proposal for a Franco-British Union (henceforth FBU) as the only viable, rational move available?

General Weygand – ‘minister’ for the opposition

The senior military officers back in France however were working to a different agenda. The opposition to an alliance between France and Britain was led by General Maxime Weygand. Weygand, the senior military man in France, used his influential position with members of the cabinet to intervene into the political sphere. Going beyond the limits of his (military) authority, Weygand made a concerted effort to undermine the case for union spearheaded by the premier Paul Reynaud.

Général d’armée 

Weygand engaged in bullying, abusing and threatening of the undecided politicians until they acquiesced and rolled over into the camp of those favouring a separate armistice with Hitler [Philip C. F. Bankwitz. (1959). Maxime Weygand and the Fall of France: A Study in Civil-Military Relations. The Journal of Modern History, 31(3), 225-242. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/1875584].

⬇️ The powerbroker (Weygand)

B027BCF4-82D3-457E-BE80-0A13B2A37535

Weygand V Reynaud

Weygand resorted to various dirty tricks to overcome Reynaud’s efforts to get FCOM to accept Churchill’s offer, such as wiretapping the French premier’s phone which allowed the general to know what Reynaud was scheming with the deliberating ministers and stay one step ahead of him. Weygand also resorted to brandishing the spectre of a communist takeover if France didn’t sue for peace with Germany [Shlaim, A. (1974). Prelude to Downfall: The British Offer of Union to France, June 1940. Journal of Contemporary History, 9(3), 27-63. Retrieved from http://www.jstor.org/stable/260024].

Tactically Weygand has it all over Reynaud in their head-to-head contest to sway the minds of the ministers. He exploited French fears and mistrust of forming an alliance with the English. Weygand could also count on the support of the  vice-premier, the influential Marshal Pétain, to help defeat Reynaud’s plans. The Third Republic’s president (Albert Lebrun) was another unhelpful factor in the crisis’ equation – a stronger figurehead may have provided firm support to the government’s alliance objective, but Lebrun’s weak and ineffectual recourse was to merely try to appease all sides of the political crisis [ibid.].

Premier Reynaud for his part made a number of tactical errors that contributed to the failure of his objective. His omission in not  inviting the British PM to the key FCOM meeting, denied the wavering ministers the opportunity to hear Churchill put the British pro-union case directly to them and let them gauge how genuine he was about FBU. While Weygand was actively busy rallying ministers to his side, Reynaud prevaricated way too long without taking decisive action (ie, pushing FCOM at the earliest instance to reject the armistice path). Lacking the resolve to act, he tried to “manoeuvre and temporise” rather than tackle the issue (and Weygand) head on [ibid.]. The longer the cabinet crisis went on, the more the situation tilted towards the pro-armistice party.

An accumulation of Gallic doubts

As the military situation worsened daily in June 1940, the ministry found more and more reasons to reject the FBU route. De Gaulle detected an “extremely acute Anglophobe feeling” within the armistice collaborators, a feeling heightened by the French public’s anger at the fallout of the Dunkirk operation (viz the British abandonment of a large number of French POWs).

British motives were increasingly questioned by the French ministers …national pride was at sake for some like former PM Camille Chautemps who feared that agreeing to FBU would relegate France to the status of a British dominion, it was thought that the  scheme was a ruse to allow Britain to get its hands on France’s colonial empire [ibid.]. There was a sense among the armistice party that if France made an early request for armistice with Germany, it would enhance the republic’s chances of receiving favourable terms. The mindset was typified in the ominous words of minister of state Ybarnégaray: “…better be a Nazi province; at least we know what that means”[ibid.].

There was also a belief within the proponents of armistice, fostered by the French military hierarchy, that Britain itself was doomed, that the island’s demise at the onslaught of the Nazi juggernaut was inevitable…as Pétain put it, union with the UK would be committing France to “fusion with a corpse”. Another key advocate of armistice and German collaboration, Pierre Laval, (later vice-premier of the Vichy state) “fear-mongered” freely – disseminating the speculation that when the eventual peace negotiations came (after the defeat of FBU), it was France that  would have to pay for the war! [ibid.].

⬇️ Marshal Pétain boards the Hitler train

89730031-603B-47A2-9DBE-91ED62CB3BDB

The burden of  swelling ‘defeatism’

As each day passed and with France’s military defence now non-existent, a wave of defeatism descended over the French people and the government. With the pro-armistice camp holding the dominant hand, minister Chautemps’ proposal that FCOM request a separate peace with Germany was effortlessly passed. The despairing Reynaud, sensing that further efforts for FBU were futile and also concerned at the prospect of a divided republic, fell on his sword, resigning immediately. Marshal Pétain hastily assumed the reins of government, thus beginning four years of Vichy proxy rule of France on behalf of Herr Hitler [ibid.].

Footnote: The road to Brexit?

When FBU failed to crystallise in 1940, Britain was left with the full realisation that it had to go it alone against Germany. To survive against such odds the UK looked west to the USA, not to Europe. Churchill and his government thereafter channeled its diplomatic energies towards enticing America into joining Britain’s war against Nazism.

8A0177FE-5CB6-43B2-8781-575F55B756D9Dominic Tierney has drawn a connecting line from the recent Brexit phenomena back to the events of 1940, a commonality of the impulse to go solo. Tierney sees the ‘Brexiteers’, those conservative proponents intent on exiting from Europe, as invoking the “spirit of Dunkirk” [‘When Britain and France Almost Merged Into One Country’, (Dominic Tierney), The Atlantic, 08-Aug-2017, www.theatlantic.com].

1F83019B-4C22-4339-9F45-F9B7DE76F5B1

PostScript: an alternate history of the “Anglo-French Confederation”

The unfulfilled ‘destiny’ of FBU is a boon to the “what if?” school of history buffs who revel in imaginative reconstructions of past seminal events. Theoretical questions abound about FBU had it become a reality…eg, how would the new super-state reconcile the British monarchy with the French republic? Where would real power lie within FBU? How would the Napoleonic legal code mesh with the very different Anglo-Saxon legal system? What would the entity’s ‘indissoluble’ union (Churchill’s very problematic term) really mean in the long run? And so on and so on [‘What if Britain and France unified in 1940?’ (David Boyle), in Prime Minister Corbyn and other things that never happened, edited by Duncan Brack & Iain Dale, (2016)].

The notion of FBU, though stillborn in 1940, did raise its head yet again years later – see the following blog in this series The Franco-British Union Redux …Mach II

╺╼╾ ╼╾╼╾ ╼╾╼╾ ╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾ ╼╾╼╾ ╼╾╼╾ ╼╾╼╾ ╼╾╺

to the point of directly and flagrantly disobeying the government’s directives, such as refusing point-blank to relocate to North Africa if a French government in exile was to be re-established there [Barkwitz, op.cit.]

and the element of surprise had been lost for the FBU camp with the army tapping Reynaud’s conversations

in his postwar memoirs Reynaud soberly wrote: “Those who rose in indignation at the idea of union with our ally, were getting ready to bow and scrape to Hitler”

later Churchill and Attlee governments both distanced themselves from the suggestion that they revisit the idea of union with France [Shlaim, op.cit.]. And the Eden government during the Suez Canal crisis flatly rebuffed a request from France for the two countries to ally

the bona fide aficionado of “alt-history” salivates over the prospect of “what if happened” scenarios. There has been something of a tradition of detective novels hypothesising on different historical events, eg, Robert Harris’ Fatherland which rewrites the postwar world based on the premise that Hitler did not die and the Third Reich won the Second World War

B3568E40-EE37-4954-9154-A5AFFD288E8B

Project X-Ray: Bat Raiders over Honshu, America’s Other Secret Weapon in the War against Japan

Military history, Regional History, Science and society
Carlsbad Caverns, NM.

In December 1941 a Pennsylvanian dentist on holidays in New Mexico, was enjoying exploring the famous caves of Carlsbad Caverns. Dr Lytle S Adams was very impressed by the activity of about a million bats flying around in the dark in the caverns that were their home. He was still vacationing at Carlsbad on the evening of the 7th when news came through about the surprise Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbour. Adams, like every patriotic American was shocked and appalled at the attack, but unlike most every other private citizen, Adams decided, more or less immediately, to actually do something about it.

The small town dentist from Irwin, Pa. devised a plan of action…within one month he submitted a seemingly preposterous proposal to the White House – Adams proposed using bats as flying incendiaries to hit back at Japan in its own cities! An apparently hare-brained notion like this from a suburban dentist could normally be expected to receive short shrift from bureaucrats and military authorities, but Dr Adams had some special connections, he was a friend of the First Lady, Eleanor Roosevelt. This guaranteed Adams’ proposal would get a good official hearing from the Military, and eventually (through a recommendation from leading zoologist Donald Griffin) the approval of President Roosevelt.

The right bat for the operation
Adams reasoned that radar-guided “bat bombs” would wreak havoc when dropped on Japanese cities because the buildings and other structures were made largely of wood, bamboo and paper. The idea you would think, to most reasonable ears, would sound ‘batty’! Adams however can’t be accused of not doing his homework…he researched the subject of bats extensively, eventually selecting the Mexican or Brazilian Free-tailed Bat (Tadarida Brasiliensis), highly prevalent in the southern regions of the US, as the optimal candidate for the task.

Mexican F-tailed Bat-cave, Carlsbad

What made the Mexican bat an attractive choice to Adams and his team of field naturalists (and to the NDRC – National Defense Research Committee) was that it weighed only ⅓ of an ounce, but could carry three-times its weight (one ounce!) Other biological factors in favour of using bats as carriers was that they occurred in large numbers, their proclivity towards hibernation and dormancy meant that they didn’t require food or maintenance, and their capacity to fly in darkness and locate dark, secluded niches to hide in during daylight [‘Bat Bomb Video’, www.wizscience.com].

Destruction by weaponised bats – the theory
The US Military embraced Adams’ idea and developed a strategy to weaponise the bats: attaching micro-incendiary devices to thousands of captured bats…the Pentagon boffins devised canisters (each had compartments housing up to 1,000 hibernating bats) to transport the bats in. B-24 Bombers would release the canisters over Japanese industrial cities initially in the Osaka Bay area of Honshu at 1000 feet. The casings would break apart at high altitude, the now awake bats would scatter and roost in dark recesses of buildings all over the city. The bats, attached to the micro-bombs by surgical clips and some string, would bite through the string and fly off. The time-activated explosives would then cause countless fires to break out all over the targeted city [Anders Clark, ‘NAPALM BATS: the Bat Bomb!’, 3-Mar-2015, Disciplines of Flight, www.disciplesofflight.com].

B-27 Liberator flying over Carlsbad National Park

Bat bomb trial-and-error
The Military labelled the bat bombs Project X-Ray and soon got down to testing Adam’s secret weapon. The first bat test the Army conducted was in May 1943 in California. Several thousand bats collected from New Mexico were induced into hibernation and then dropped from a refrigerated aircraft using dummy bombs. Unfortunately things did not go to plan…many of the bats didn’t wake from their hibernation and merely crash-landed on California soil, while only some of them managed to fly away. The attrition rate for the Army’s test bats was accordingly high. Altogether over the Project’s lifespan around 6,000 bats were used in the Bat Bomb tests (about 3,500 of these were collected from the Carlsbad Caverns) [CV Glines, ‘The Bat Bombers’, Air Force, Oct 1990, 73(10); Clark, op.cit.]

1943: Army Bat Bomb test goes haywire!

The location got changed to an Army auxiliary airfield near Carlsbad (easier access to the seemingly inexhaustible supply of bats from the caverns). Eventually the Army loaded the bats with explosives to trial some live runs. Again the bats performed erratically as glide missile pilots but this time with unintended and negative results…an Army aircraft hangar caught fire, as did a car belonging to an Army general [Clark, op.cit.]. Disillusioned by the reverses, the Army hand-balled the Project on to the Navy and Marine corps.

The Marines and the Japanese Village
The Marine corps in particular took on the renamed “Project X-Ray” with some enthusiasm…after several encouraging tests the test site was moved to the Dugway Proving Grounds in Utah, where a mocked-up Japanese Village had been created in 1943✱. The Dugway tests went better than the earlier ones, according to the testers “a reasonable number of fires” were successfully ignited, and a NDRC observer present commented that “It was concluded that X-Ray is an effective weapon”.

Dugway Proving Grounds, Utah

Tests at the Dugway, Utah, site continued in 1944 with the Marine corps believing that the Bat Bomb Project could be deployed against Japan by mid-1945. The Navy hierarchy however was unhappy at the prospect of a delay of another twelve months-plus and canned the project altogether. The US subsequently focused on bringing the atomic bomb to a state of readiness, and the outcome of those efforts altered the course of both the war and of postwar history.

Dentist-inventor Adams was extremely disappointed when the Military pulled the plug on the project. Adams maintained that what happened with the atomic devastation of Hiroshima and Nagasaki could have been avoided if the US had stuck with his bat-delivered bombings: (would have caused) “thousands of fires breaking out simultaneously … Japan could have been devastated, yet with small loss of life” [‘Top Secret WWII Bat and Bird Bomber Program’, 6-Dec-2006, www.historynet.com].

PostScript: Project Pigeon, BF Skinner’s birds of war
Before the idea of bat-bombing Japan briefly captured the imagination of the US defence establishment, serious consideration had already been given to weaponising pigeons to be used in warfare! The notion was first mooted by influential, pioneering US behavioural psychologist Burrhus Frederic Skinner in 1939. Skinner believed that the humble feral street pigeon, Columba livia domestica, had the innate attributes (excellent vision and extraordinary manoeuvrability) to be trained to guide glide missiles. The behaviourist utilised his technique of operant conditioning to train the birds by rewarding them for pecking a moving image on a screen which accurately steered the missile they were piloting towards their intended target✫ (and unfortunately also towards their own destruction!)

BF Skinner’s pigeons of war

Skinner got some backing from business and the NDRC for Project Pigeon (as it was called), and he was able to demonstrate success with trained pigeons, however the government/military was never more than at best lukewarm on the Project…ultimately by 1944 the Military abandoned the Pigeon Missile because of concern that its continuation would divert crucial funds away from the “main game”, the construction of an atomic bomb. In 1948 the Navy revived the Project, now renamed Project Orcon but in 1953 it was dumped for good when the superiority of electronic guidance systems was established [Joseph Stromberg, ‘B.F. Skinner’s Pigeon-Guided Rocket’, The Smithsonian, 18-Aug-2011, www.smithsonianmag.com; ‘Project Pigeon’, https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Project_Pigeon].

Footnote: the US Military’s experiments on bats and pigeons were classified and conducted covertly under a wartime information blackout. They would not of course have been condoned by the American Humane Society (for the welfare of animals) had the organisation known of them.

▦ See also related blog JUNE 2017 on USA/Japan conflict in World War II: Project Fu-Go: Japan’s Pacific War Balloon Counter-Offensive

∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸∸
✱ two mock-up enemy villages were constructed on this same site side-by-side, a Japanese one and a German one
✫ Skinner, also an inventor, devised a nose cone (attached to a explosives warhead) in which up to three pigeons could perch and pilot the missile’s trajectory