It is easy to forget that when the Great War broke out in 1914 the aeroplane was actually only eleven years old and yet, by the time of the 1918 Armistice, it had been developed into a hybrid instrument of war that was capable of bombing, reconnaissance, ground strafing and, of course, one-on-one aerial combat. And by today’s standards – or even those of World War Two – these machines were still extremely primitive and flying them, let alone fighting in them, was fraught with danger.

Fragile in the extreme, their fabric skins were prone to tearing away in the slipstream when damaged and were so very vulnerable to the ravages of a fire that few crews survived an aerial conflagration. These flying machines’ flimsy frames and wings were strengthened and stressed by taut wires that, like the standing rigging of a sailing ship, kept everything in place…until shot through or burned away in combat. Very little protection was afforded the pilots and observers in World War 1 and frequently jamming guns and seizing engines only added to their peril. Spares were hard to come by and makeshift repairs at the front line temporary airfields tested the ingenuity of the mechanics and ground crews whose job it was to keep the aircraft in combat-ready condition. Add to this volatile mixture of potential misadventures the fact that pilot training was minimal and that air fighting was still so new that no hard and fast rules had been established, then the more we might understand the mettle of the young men who first dipped a toe in the waters of the air war.

Captain William Billy Bishop

Not until the advent of the fixed, forward firing gun did the single seat fighter become the killing machine that we know today. Advances in firing mechanisms that enabled the single or twin machine guns to fire through the spinning propeller revolutionised the fighter or scout aeroplane. Pilots began to score more and more victories, many of them becoming national celebrities in their homelands and gaining notoriety among their enemies. So many of these ‘Aces’ were quiet, unassuming individuals who cared little for the war and even less for shooting down young opponents who were, after all, no different to themselves and yet they would find themselves thrust into the spotlight by their admirers and thus put under even greater pressure to continue raising their tally whilst at the same time leading and teaching others.   Novice pilots were frequently overwhelmed by their first experience of a dogfight where as many as sixty aircraft might be wheeling and diving in the space of just one cubic mile of airspace. Confusion, misidentification and mid air collisions were frequent and inevitable.

Whilst many pilots continued with their lone vigils into 1918, popular opinion supported the German idea of large formations of aircraft piloted by better trained crews with the premise of operating as a single fighting force, rather than as individuals. Leaders such as Edward ‘Mick’ Mannock amply demonstrated the benefits of such formations whilst Commander of 74 Squadron, Mannock himself adding 36 victories to his personal score in the space of just three months.

Maggiore Francesco Baracca

The Germans, meanwhile, suddenly found themselves unable to match the Allies for sheer numbers. As the tide began to turn against Germany early in 1918, the Jastas began to form into larger groups which earned the nickname ‘Circuses’, largely because they travelled from location to location to bring pressure to bear wherever it was needed instead of operating from fixed airstrips. The most famous of these Circuses was, of course, that led by Manfred von Richthofen, the ‘Red Baron’ who would ultimately be recognised as the highest scoring Ace of them all with a staggering 80 confirmed victories to his credit. Made up almost exclusively of the nimble Fokker DR.1 Triplane, the Albatross D.V and Pfalz D.III, Richthofen’s Flying Circus, comprising Jastas 4, 6, 10 and 11, took the fight to the Allied squadrons and wrought a terrible toll on them but, with the death of von Richthofen in April 1918, their appetite to fight seemed to visibly wane and even the introduction of the superb Fokker D.VII was unable to stem the impending victory of the Allied pilots in the skies above France.

In August 1918, a huge force of aircraft comprising the newly christened RAF’s 43, 54, 73, 201, 203, 208 and 209 squadrons launched a final offensive. The Sopwith Camels and SE.5As tore into the demoralised German formations and great pilots such as Werner Voss fell to their guns in the closing months.

William Leefe-Robinson

So ended the first era of aerial combat in which the aeroplane proved itself to be a potent fighting machine in the hands of young men who had learned their art in an incredibly short time and who had set in stone the rule book on how it should be done. The equipment and technology may have changed almost beyond recognition in the ensuing 90 years or so, but many combat techniques and principles have remained, a legacy of those tentative years when the World’s first air forces and brave aerial gladiators took their first faltering steps and changed the course of history for ever.

This series of paintings of just some of the many Aces and their aircraft are intended not to glorify war, but to salute their innovation and their bravery. We will never see their like again.