Of the AEF's 35 balloon companies then in France, with 446 officers and 6,365 men, there were 23 companies with 265 balloons serving with the armies at the front. U.S. Air Service depots to supply the squadrons and balloon companies at the front were in full operation and supported by a production plant, where some 10,000 men were employed in assembling airplanes and in repairing airplanes, engines, and balloons which had seen service at the front.
Those balloons at the front made 1,642 ascents and were in the air a total of 3,111 hours. They made 316 artillery adjustments, and reported thousands of shell bursts, sightings of enemy airplanes, balloon ascents, battery positions, and road and rail traffic. All of this was accomplished by air observers who were frequently (sometimes chronically) beset by air sickness.
Vanquished by the Boche Plane George Harding Matthews |
Used primarily for artillery spotting by the AEF, the hydrogen-filled balloons were prime targets for enemy attack aircraft. Despite being protected both by Allied fighters and anti-aircraft guns the balloons were in constant danger of igniting from enemy (and sometimes friendly) fire, especially incendiary bullets. When the bag was hit, the observer—who had to be alerted to any imminent danger by ground crew—needed to evacuate immediately by parachute. World War I observation crews were the first to use parachutes, long before they were adopted by fixed wing aircrews. A Western Front Association article describes the process:
These parachutes were a primitive type, where the main part was in a bag suspended from the balloon, with the pilot only wearing a simple body harness around his waist, with lines from the harness attached to the main parachute in the bag. When the balloonist jumped, the main part of the parachute was pulled from the bag, with the shroud lines first, followed by the main canopy.
American operated balloons were attacked by enemy airplanes on 89 occasions; 35 of them were burned during such attacks, 12 others were destroyed by shell fire, and one blown over enemy lines [48 total losses]. Observers were forced to jump from the baskets 116 times; in no case did the parachute fail to open properly. One observer lost his life because pieces of the burning balloon fell on his descending parachute. On the opening day of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive, 26 September 1918, Lt. Cleo Ross of Titusville, PA, and the 8th Balloon Company, would become the only balloon observer killed in the war. Later, the Titusville American Legion Post was named in his honor. [Reader Brian Culross has pointed out that very quickly after his death, Lt. Ross also had an airfield named after him in Arcadia, California, that the Army operated until 1926.]
Also see our article on the adventures of balloon observer Lt. Jimmy Higgs of the 7th Balloon Company, who was forced to make four balloon jumps.
Sources: "Observation Balloons on the Western Front". The Western Front Association. 29 June 2008; National World War I Museum.
I believe you meant to write that the balloons were filled with flammable Hydrogen (and not Helium),.
ReplyDeleteRight you are. Thanks, the text has been corrected.
DeleteAnother little nit-pick; it would be more accurate to say "ignited" rather than "exploded" when hit by incendiary bullets, although admittedly, the ignition could be pretty fast and furious. And a little amplification: Lt Ross was more grandly and immediately (I believe) memorialised by having a balloon base in the US named after him - Ross Field.
ReplyDeleteThanks Brian. I've corrected the terminology and added some information about Ross Field.
DeleteHere is a nice “observation balloon” story reported for the New York Herald by my grandfather Don Martin on July 7, 1918, titled “Amex Flier Drops In Parachute from Flaming “Sausage.”
ReplyDeleteIn a certain headquarters an officer was relating to the man in charge an account of how an American observation balloon was shot down by a German flier.
“The German came from a high altitude, and it was apparent that he was intending to attack the ‘sausage.’ The men handling it started to pull it down and had it within 700 feet of the ground when the German swept by, shot a few bullets into it and through the observer’s basket and disappeared. The balloon quickly disappeared in smoke and flame.
“What became of the observer?”
“Oh, here he is,” said the officer.
Whereupon Lieutenant Malcolm Sedgewick, of St. Paul, Minnesota, stood up and received the felicitations of the commanding officer. When the balloon collapsed, the young man dropped with ease with his parachute and did not seem to regard the incident as particularly thrilling or important.