Aircraft and Submarines The Story of the Invention, Development, and Present-Day Uses of War's Newest Weapons — Reading Notes

From Ancient Dreams to Modern Factories

Abbot frames the invention of aircraft and submarines as the realization of age-old human obsessions. He writes that “the thought of navigating the air's dizziest heights and the sea's gloomiest depths has obsessed the minds of inventors” since earliest history, yet only within the last two hundred years for aircraft and one hundred for submarines has any intelligent start been made. The preface names key figures—the Wrights, Santos-Dumont, Count Zeppelin for aircraft; Lake and Holland for submarines—as men who gave practical effect to vague theories. This historical sweep contrasts sharply with the book's later focus on wartime production. In the middle excerpts, Abbot describes the sudden acceleration after mid-1917, when all belligerents recognized the air as the final battlefield. He reports that before 1916, the U.S. government had ordered only fifty-nine aircraft in eight years, but by 1917 eight companies could produce about 14,000 machines in six months—a figure he compares favorably to Britain's early-war capacity.

The Peril of New York and the Limits of Defense

A striking passage in the middle excerpts addresses the defenceless condition of New York City against an air raid. Abbot explains that while harbour defences are “practically impregnable against attack by sea,” they would not stop an attack from the air. A hostile fleet carrying seaplanes could round to out of range of shore batteries and loose flyers who could within less than an hour drop bombs on Manhattan. He acknowledges that the U.S. Navy would have to be evaded, but suggests attacks might come from unexpected points. This scenario is presented as a hypothetical danger—Abbot notes that at the moment there is no threat because the German fleet is bottled up by the British. Yet he speculates on what might happen if the British fleet were crippled or if the German submarine campaign proved effective. The passage reveals how Abbot uses concrete, local examples to make abstract strategic threats vivid for his American readership.

Statistical Estimates and the Fog of War

Throughout the excerpts, Abbot is careful to qualify his numbers. He states that “all statistical estimates in war time are subject to doubt as to their accuracy—and particularly those having to do in any way with the activities of an enemy country.” When discussing Germany's aircraft production, he attributes figures to “competent estimators—or at any rate shrewd guessers.” This cautious tone extends to American progress: he writes that extreme secrecy makes it impossible to state the amount of progress made in 1917. He contrasts optimistic Congressional oratory and press predictions with the reality of an infant industry. The book thus functions partly as a contemporary document, capturing the uncertainty and propaganda of the moment. Abbot's willingness to acknowledge the limits of his knowledge—he cannot foretell with certainty how great the U.S. contribution will be—gives the narrative a provisional quality, as if the war's outcome is still genuinely in doubt.

The Submarine Campaign and the Struggle for the Seas

Although the excerpts focus heavily on aircraft, the book's title promises equal treatment of submarines. The preface notes that submarines have been brought to a practical stage of development only in this war, exerting “a really appreciable influence on the outcome.” In the middle excerpts, Abbot references the German threat to reduce Great Britain to subjection by the submarine campaign as a hypothetical precondition for an attack on New York. This suggests that the submarine section likely covers both the technical evolution of underwater craft and their strategic impact on the war. The book's structure, as outlined in the preface, is to sketch the slow stages of success in each field, collate interesting data on their activities, and outline future possibilities beyond war. Readers should expect a parallel treatment: historical development followed by wartime use, with an eye toward peacetime applications.

Abbot's book is best read as a snapshot of wartime knowledge, not a definitive history. He writes from within the conflict, with access to official reports and press accounts but also subject to censorship and incomplete information. The rapid obsolescence he describes applies to his own facts: production figures and strategic assessments were overtaken by events even as the book went to press. Readers interested in the technical evolution of these weapons will find a useful summary of early experiments, while those seeking insight into American public discourse in 1918 will appreciate the blend of boosterism, anxiety, and historical perspective that Abbot brings to his subject.

Holding this 1918 survey, I recalled my grandfather’s quiet awe describing his first flight, the world’s fragility from above. That same hush fell over me reading the sketches in Blood Brothers: A Medic's Sketch Book — Themes and Context. Both books whisper of war’s strange intimacy—machines and men, inseparable. It’s not the strategy that lingers, but the soft, human ache beneath the steel.