A Summer Bright and Terrible Read Online Free Page B

proposed, and finally promised that they could hit the docks and not
the houses. Finally the Kaiser relented. Permission was granted to attack the
docks, but the resulting bomb raids did not turn out as anticipated. The
admirals were wrong: The docks were largely undamaged, while the houses nearby
were demolished and civilians were killed.
    The Kaiser was appalled, but the German
newspapers were ecstatic. They reported the raids jubilantly, and the German
people responded with an enthusiasm they had lost when the army’s advance
stagnated. The outcries of the outraged British served only to stimulate morale
in Germany. The navy urged further attacks. Suddenly, the bombing of women and
children looked like an effective way to wage war after all.
    The German army staff could not let the navy
claim this new war for themselves. They ordered their own airships to bomb
London, seeking not only the docks—which the navy could argue belonged to them —but
any “targets of opportunity.” Again the Kaiser protested, but the arguments
were too strong, the chances of success too high, the airships both too
expensive to waste and unsuitable for any other military operations, and on May
30, 1915, he capitulated to the extent of authorizing the aerial bombing of
targets east of the Tower of London. The only civilians in the East End lived
in slums, and no one was expected to care much about them.
    The German Admiralty quickly responded by proposing
to attack military targets “of interest to Naval strategy” throughout the city
of London. These would include the British Admiralty offices, the railways
(which brought goods to the docks), and the Bank of England (which provided the
financial support for all naval operations). Once this concept was approved,
the next step was inevitable: They began to bomb all railways, all
offices, all administrative and logistical support facilities. Since these were
scattered through the city, interspersed with truly civilian offices and
residences, the necessity of civilian casualties simply had to be accepted.
    Again—for the last time—the Kaiser balked. But
English aircraft by now had retaliated against Karlsruhe, and even though that
single raid had been more ineffective than the airship attempts to hit the
docks of London, the future was clear. The enemy would build bigger airplanes
and more destructive bombs, and the only defence was to rain destruction on
them so dramatically that they would not dare to challenge warfare in this new
realm. The Kaiser conceded, and unrestricted aerial bombing of London began.
    And, of course, it escalated. Soon the airships
were wandering all over the southeast of England, and the German army responded
by developing giant Gotha bombers that could carry a heavier bomb-load than the
zeppelins could. By 1917, these airplanes were dropping hundreds of pounds of
bombs each, travelling at heights and speeds too high and fast to be reached by the Royal Flying Corps
fighters or antiaircraft cannon. In June, a force of twenty Gothas attacked
London in daylight, dropping two tons of bombs directly onto the Liverpool
Street railway station and one no-pound bomb directly onto a nursery school,
killing sixteen babies and severely injuring a score more. On February 16,
1918, a squadron formed specifically for the purpose of bombing England dropped
a specially designed one-ton bomb on Chelsea. It hit nothing significant and
did little damage. But one month before, the same commander had attacked London
with then-standard 660-pound bombs. Aiming for the Admiralty, he had hit
instead the Odham Printing Works, which had been designated an air-raid shelter
because of its heavy construction, designed to hold the gigantic printing
presses, beneath which five hundred Londoners huddled in the basement. The bomb
shattered the foundations of the building, the printing presses collapsed, and
the upper floors came crashing down into the basement and onto the masses
sheltering there.