$Unique_ID{USH00840} $Pretitle{79} $Title{The Signal Corps: The Emergency Chapter VII-D Propulsion From Limbo} $Subtitle{} $Author{Terrett, Dulany} $Affiliation{US Army} $Subject{british corps radar air signal equipment research war aircraft radio} $Volume{D114.7:SI/V.1} $Date{1956} $Log{} Book: The Signal Corps: The Emergency Author: Terrett, Dulany Affiliation: US Army Volume: D114.7:SI/V.1 Date: 1956 Chapter VII-D Propulsion From Limbo The Tizard Mission No other part of the Army was to figure in this union more closely than the Air Corps, and the Air Corps drew the Signal Corps along in its slipstream. The Battle of Britain was about to open, the expected mass attacks being prefaced by coastal bombings. Each passing week which was apparently building up to another dread climax was also indicating that British air defense possessed a vital secret. In addition to the Spitfires, searchlights, barrage balloons, flak curtains, there was something else. In the United States, popular conjecture worked at large, but electronic scientists and the inner circle of government could pin the answer down. On the British side, there was a similar shrewd understanding of the areas of research which other countries might be exploring. But the intelligence channels which inform one government of another's secret activity run in only one direction. Both countries had every motive for opening up a two-way passage, defense being the common denominator in their policy. Upon instructions from his government, the British Ambassador to the United States, the Marquess of Lothian, broached the matter. The British "would greatly appreciate" it, Lord Lothian said, if the Americans, being given the "full details of any [British] equipment or devices, would reciprocate by discussing certain secret information of a technical nature which [the British] are anxious to have urgently." A startling rearrangement of Atlantic power was even then being composed, under the color of the exchange of destroyers for island bases. What was asked was that the two nations break tradition in another field, in order to exchange carefully guarded technical information. Lothian hoped to avoid the show of a bargain; and, indeed, there was no need for any, because unlike the plan for the United States to take over the strategic defense of the western Atlantic, this agreement would not be submitted to public discussion. In fact, he proposed to the President, "Should you approve the exchange of information, it has been suggested by my Government that, in order to avoid any risk of the information reaching our enemy, a small secret British mission consisting of two or three service officers and civilian scientists should be despatched immediately to this country to enter into discussions with Army and Navy experts." Thus only a few would be party to the vital secret, and of those few, all would be "perfectly open" in telling what they knew, without jockeying for leverage. Some on the American side were suspicious of this; some, even, subsequently felt that they had been required to surrender national advantage. The Army and Navy held back their hearty concurrence. "[The proposal is] aimed at getting full information in regard to our airplane detector, which apparently is very much more efficient than anything the British have," was the Army's point of view, which nevertheless also recognized that the British had their own detector and gun layer, as well as the pip-squeak system for identifying aircraft. Some on the British side were inclined to fume that they had little to learn from the Americans. The relation would be an exchange of British headwork for American handwork. Lothian made it plain that what Great Britain was particularly anxious for was permission "to employ the full resources of the [U.S.] radio industry . . . with a view to obtaining the greatest power possible for the emission of ultra short waves." This statement directed American concern to patent rights and to the demands which might be made upon industry. Its deepest significance, which was contained in the reference to "the greatest power possible for the emission of ultra short waves," was temporarily passed over, not to be understood until the actual discussions brought it out. Both sides had more to learn about the other than they realized. The truth was that probably neither would have brought electronics to the maturity it quickly reached had they not got together. And had electronics lagged in the crucial two years before the free powers joined military forces in Africa, the effect upon the war would have been grave. However much basis existed for misgivings, the circumstances of the moment overrode them. The air was electric with peril. The President therefore lost no time in approving the plan, and, so soon as they could be chosen and prepared, the members of the secret technical mission set out. The mission was given the name of its chief, who was Sir Henry Tizard, rector of the Imperial College of Science and Technology and adviser to the Ministry of Aircraft Production, and the other civilian members were equally close to their country's research effort and to the unnamed equipment which was fending off the Germans. Along with three officers of the Royal Air Force and Navy, this group arrived in the United States late in August 1940. They were scheduled to confer first with the Army (which was to say primarily the Signal Corps) and the Navy, then with the civilian National Defense Research Committee. On September 2 Tizard and Professor R. H. Fowler met the armed forces representatives, in General Mauborgne's office. The principal guest was Maj. Gen. Joseph A. Green, the Chief of Coast Artillery, the branch for which American military radar had been instituted. Maj. Wallace G. Smith, specially detailed there by General Arnold, represented the Air Corps. The Navy had sent three junior officers. The seasoned radar men were in the Signal Corps contingent. It was an extraordinary moment. National security, the most powerful of official taboos, was about to be lifted. Neither the Army nor the Navy had caught up with the unusual circumstances of the Tizard Mission enough to authorize it's disclosure, with the result that talk was fenced at the outset. Another result, ultimately of astonishing effect upon the implementation of the Signal Corps, was that, with the British scientists speaking more fully and being unhampered by the necessity to disclose how much of what they were describing existed, a seed of suspicion imperceptibly took firm root. Quite without any Machiavellian intent on any by's part, the impression arose, never thereafter to be dislodged, that Signal Corps equipment was inadequate, insufficient, belated, lamely derivative, and unworthy of any place in the same league with British equipment. Hindsight makes it possible to say what position each was actually in at the time. Both had pulse radar equipment for the ground (although far from enough of it to be emancipated from sound locators) and both possessed the basic types, the searchlight-control, gun-laying, and early warning sets. American searchlight control was probably better than that of the British; neither gun-laying set was good; the aircraft detectors had reached equal, if differing, stages of development. That of the British gave a better definition on the oscilloscope and also indicated the height of the target to some degree. U.S. technicians were still in the process of working out height-finding characteristics, but they had devised lobe switching and antenna tilting, and their equipment was mobile. In airborne radar, both nations, again, had been working in basic types, except that only the Americans had created an altimeter. Apart from the altimeter, these types represented efforts at air-to-surface-vessel detection, air-to-air detection or interception, and identification of friend from foe: respectively jargonized as ASV, Al, and IFF. In the airborne types, however, the Americans had used beat reflection in their experiments. The British had airborne pulse equipment, to which the Americans were just turning after their disappointments in the beat method, at that early stage of imperfect understanding of its possibilities. Moreover, Great Britain had airborne pulse equipment beyond the development stage and actually in operation. The sets were plagued by heavy and cumbersome, like the U.S. experimental models, but they were in service in the war. All in all, therefore, Great Britain and the United States had followed separate routes to approximately equivalent spots, eleven months of touch-and-go warfare having put the British a milestone or so farther along. None of this was precisely assessed at the time, and the of British items made an enormous impression. At the first meeting, both sides began somewhat guardedly, referred to their facsimile, teletype, and speech-scrambling devices, and arrived rapidly at the fact that radio reflection was a mutual secret. It was, as a matter of fact, not a secret at all. The Japanese had just begun to shift from the Doppler method to pulse; the Graf Spee, scuttled so soon after the out break of war, had radar; and the British themselves had shared much of their own work with Frenchmen now subject to German pressures. A very long distance intervened, nevertheless, between the fundamental principle, which was known in so many scientific circles, and the applications of it, wherein secrecy was vital, and wherein lay a victory in a deadly race. When the Signal Corps representatives heard that the British had apparently solved the baffling problem of satisfactory airborne radar, they were immediately impressed. It was air-to-surface-vessel equipment, Tizard disclosed; it worked on the pulse principle, as the Aircraft Radio Laboratory experimenters had believed would have to be true; and, although details would have to be forthcoming from another expert more familiar with them, it used a 200-megacycle wavelength. Two hundred megacycles indicated a wavelength of a meter and a half, with correspondingly long antenna, one of the very things that the Signal Corps had been trying to get away from; nonetheless, the British had about fifty sets already installed and operating, and the equipment had shown that it could find surfaced submarines within a radius of five miles and a considerably larger target like a battleship as much as forty miles away. Such a development had tangibly brought British radar down from the eleven meters of the enormous, fixed Chain Home towers to one and one-half. American radar, which was mobile, had got down as far; but, Mitchell explained, the Aircraft Radio Laboratory "had never tried pulse transmission in the air." Colton interposed that possibly the Signal Corps Laboratories had slighted microwave pulse, but to go up into the superhigh frequencies introduced "extreme difficulties" one of which, Mitchell came in again to say, was a reliable vacuum tube. The problem which they had in mind was that microwaves, which may be expressed also in very short wavelengths - roundly, 10 centimeters - would use proportionately short antennas. To receive an echo from a pulse sent out over a very large antenna mounted on a height or a tower was one thing, but to achieve a good echo from small antenna equipment would be quite another. In the first instance, the transmitting area was big enough to accommodate an outsized tube which could produce outsized power, and send the pulse out hard enough for some of it to be left to be caught on the rebound. In the second instance, everything would require a smaller scale yet the power would have to be as great as ever. Mitchell thought that a small tube developing big power ought to be feasible, but acknowledged that it had not yet been "completely developed." All of this no doubt fascinated Tizard and Fowler. They had brought over a model of just such a tube. British electronic research, goaded by exigency which American research had not yet felt, had turned to and solved the problem with a tube which time later showed to be the greatest single contribution to radar. It was the resonant-cavity magnetron, an electronic vacuum tube, a tube specially ted for a new science. In 1928 the Japanese scientists Yagi and Okabe had discovered that a split-plate magnetron could oscillate at extremely high frequencies, yielding wavelengths as small as 2 1/2 centimeters; but the power output was very low. The same had been in 1931 and 1932 of the Westinghouse 10-centimeter magnetron. But from the split-plate magnetron a research team at the University of Birmingham had now evolved a multicavity magnetron, which only produced microwaves but produced them with force. This resonant-cavity magnetron thus was at hand, internationally, ready to give life to a multitude of microwave radar devices. It was the heart of the transmitter; the klystron tube, which amplified the echoes of the pulse, was the equivalent vital organ in the receiver. On the cavity magnetron, accordingly, the two great powers came electronically together. At their second meeting, this time in Ohio, at the Aircraft Radio Laboratory, both sides showed much less reticence. The Signal Corps had got G-2 clearance to reveal practically all classified technical developments, including homing and instrument-landing methods, means of aircraft recognition, bombing-through-overcast, filter control networks, absolute altimeters, underwater and ground sound ranging, artillery spotting, and everything else in the whole range from wire throwers to "death rays." The British delegates explained that their electronic establishment had made considerable progress with 600-megacycle (1/2 meter) equipment, but this frequency was still not far enough up in the spectrum. Later in the war it turned out that in many uses, the longer radar waves were preferable to the shorter. The 11-meter Chain Home stations, for example, could detect the German rockets of 1944 and 1945 better than microwave equipment could. But both nations had long-wave radar. What they wanted was the microwave applications. The 200-megacycle British air to-surface-vessel detector was limited simply to finding the vessel; a visual bombsight took over from there. Pinpoint bombing would require radar of no more than one tenth that wavelength. The same thing was true of any other form of precision bombardment. Wellingtons, making attacks upon Germany which motion pictures like Target for Tonight suggested were ruinous, actually were dropping two thirds of their bombs at least five miles wide of any worth-while target. Great Britain felt an urgent incentive to work out also an airborne set capable of detecting other aircraft: an Al. Here, the large antennas which they had managed to make the best of in ASV were quite out of the question, for the airplanes to carry Al would not be big patrol bombers. They would be fighters, and small. Anything larger than microwave antennas would also project too broad a beam for this purpose, because the earth would intercept the pulses which one wished to be repulsed only by objects in the air. Radio could never reach variety and flexibility until it could get rid of great weight and length and size, without losing any of the power which went with those qualities. This was a matter of developing a giant's strength in a dwarf's arm. The resonant-cavity magnetron ultimately wrought the feat and revolutionized what was already a revolution. But the magnetron was so new that the blueprints were still wet. Deep anxiety showed in the haste with which the Tizard Mission had been dispatched to obtain mass production of the magnetron in the United States industrial outlay and multiform application of it in the United States fertile research organizations. The newest of these, the National Defense Research Committee, was about to set up a Radiation Laboratory at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology; to this agent would be handed the challenge of microwave radar. The Aircraft Radio Laboratory would limit its own microwave efforts to engineering the equipment; and the Signal Corps Laboratories would keep their research below about 600 megacycles, the area of relatively long-wave radar in which the SCR-268, 270, and 271 had demonstrated the Monmouth laboratories authority. The immediate future of radar, which lay in pulsed microwaves, above all in their airborne applications, became the specialty of Division 14 of the Radiation Laboratory, as well as of its only real rival in the United States, the Bell Laboratories, where the first American version of the British resonant-cavity magnetron took shape in the closing months of 1940. This commercial development was of course a Signal Corps choice; there was no question of the Signal Corps having abdicated its prominence in radar. The ensuing connection between the Aircraft Radio Laboratory and the Radiation Laboratory became extremely and necessarily close; and the Signal Corps Laboratories afterward entered the microwave field in connection with Division 14's gun laying set, SCR-584, the hairbreadth hero of the Anzio beachhead. In this summer after Dunkerque, however, with the Luftwaffe and the Royal Air Force building up to the Battle of Britain, urgent attention was settled more upon air devices than ground. While the Tizard Mission remained in the United States, there was much discussion about IFF. Air combat over the British Isles daily demonstrated the need for it. The presence of increasing numbers of airplanes in the sky compounded the risk that friendly ones might be shot down, foes allowed to penetrate. How important it might be to know one from the other, Pearl Harbor would show. IFF could have drastically diminished that disaster. Still an unknown number of months short of a war of their own, the Americans had an identification development in initial stages only; this was the RR, the Navy's interrogator-responsor system of radio recognition. The British had gone from their Mark I model of an IFF to a Mark II version also in initial stages but relied principally and riskily upon a system of direction finders which intercepted a plane's coded radio transmissions, took bearings upon them, and, from a general knowledge of both code and pesition, identified the craft. Both the Mark I and the Mark II of the British IFF involved merely a receiver-transmitter aboard the airplane. Normally in a receiving position, the set commenced to transmit when a radar signal alerted it, returning another signal along with the normal echo. The effect was to intensify the reflection which the airplane itself was making on the oscilloscope of a ground detector. The first order of business after the opening talks with the Tizard Mission was to follow the British example and put pulse equipment, however cumbersome, in the air. The visiting scientists had acknowledged that their own airborne pulse radar had to be "nursed along in order to keep in operation." The Signal Corps had the means to do as much as that. Arrangements promptly got under way for elements of an SCR-268 to be tried out in an airplane. There was no question of including its antennas. "No one ever believed airborne antennas (Yagis) would be feasible at 2 or 3 meters [the SCR-268's antenna length]. Even when the British sets were first received at ARL there was much doubt as to whether anyone would take up a U.S. plane with them." The engineers on the project temporarily rigged up a single horizontal dipole and mounted it on the nose of a B-18. Then, since an airplane could go to the radar set more easily than the radar set could go to the airplane, the engineers had the B-18 flown to Red Bank airport, where they attached the receiving antennas along the sides of the fuselage. There followed a hurriedly designed transmitter, the SCR-268 receiver, a commercial oscilloscope, a modulator to provide 4,000 pulses a second, and a gasoline-powered generator. On October 2, a date coincident with the departure of the mission, preparations at Red Bank were complete. Bad weather prevented test flights there, the B-18 went back to Wright Field for no better luck, and it was the beginning of November before airborne trials could commence. In advance of them, the crew kept the bomber on the ground and shot pulses at a basic training plane five or six miles distant in the air. The results were distinct, for the basic trainer reflected pips upon the oscilloscope. Had the B-18 been flying, this application would have approximated Al. On November 4 it did fly, from Wright Field over Lake Erie. Now the equipment was being tested as an ASV. Up in the air, it surpassed the 6 miles of the ground test and attained 17 against an ore boat, 23 against shore lines and islands. This was only half the distance the British claimed for their ASV, but for a first try it was encouraging. That the patchwork of components worked well at all was proof of the soundness of the SCR-268 and of the engineering skill which had adapted it. The Aircraft Radio Laboratory experimenters were under no illusions about what they had. For practical aircraft use the transmitter, keyer, receiver, indicator and power supply would all need to be completely redesigned mechanically. . . . Until a pulse less than a microsecond is obtained with the [Signal Corps Laboratories] equipment or until equipment modeled after the 500 megacycle [Naval Research Laboratory] pulse altimeter . . . is completed, flight tests on aircraft-detection will be suspended. This was the view of the ARL director. The Air Corps view at Wright Field was more sanguine, with the chief of the Experimental Section declaring that "the results obtained from this equipment were very encouraging and show that a means of detection of surface vessels from airplanes is available. To be made practicable, this equipment needs only to be reduced in size and weight." British ASV arrived at the field within a fortnight of the Lake Erie tests, though; and, inasmuch as it was supposedly ready to be Chinese-copied, it was given right of way over any attempt to modify the SCR-268 for the same purpose. Thus the airborne SCR-268 experiment did not bear fruit as it might have, if it had been tried several months sooner. The Aircraft Radio Laboratory did continue the work, with a number of sets under the nomenclature SCR-519; one of these utilized the lobe-switching technique of the SCR-268, but none of them materialized. The first ASV and Al radars to see service in the Air Corps were copies of British designs. Great Britain had first experimented with putting radar aboard aircraft in 1937. The Signal Corps had radar by then. What were the obstructions which had so long blocked the Americans? Lack of free communication must bear part of the responsibility. No doubt can remain that with a readier flow and exchange of knowledge, American Army radar would have had a much shorter infancy. "The 268 projects were kept so secret that few at ARL knew of them. I did not," was the remark of Col. William L. Bayer, one of the half dozen who first tested the SCR-268 components over Lake Erie. Lack of funds, absence of basic research, unflagging Air Corps attempts to absorb the Aircraft Radio Laboratory also contributed barriers. But the main reason why nobody up to this point had got pulse radar up into the air was doubtless that nobody had thought of it - a reason which directs admiration toward the British scientists. "It is easy to say now that the weight and size limitation might have been overcome but it would not have been easy to visualize the 268 as flyable. How the British [imagined] it still baffles me . . ." Bayer's tribute came from a man who knew the problems. Assessing the relative progress of British and American radar is a matter of balancing one extreme against the other. In the first place, radar research in the two countries differed significantly in origin, and this difference may be assumed to have advanced airborne radar rather more in the United Kingdom than in the United States. British radar was developed from the first for Royal Air Force uses. In the Signal Corps development the interests of the air had been secondary, if not in determined at least in point of time. No radar undertaking specifically for the Air Corps d begun until after the Coast Artillery the SCR-268, had shown itself to be good. Then, although expressing itself vigorously in favor of the work, Air Corps policy had made little more room for electronics than for radio. This observation is no sooner stated than it is overmatched by other, which must also be taken within the context of the era. Research and development for the Air Corps which was carried on in other branches was no more hampered than in the Air Corps itself; the list of airplanes with which the Air Corps entered the war suffered even more by comparison with foreign design than did many other categories of equipment. And this exception must in turn be excepted to. No part either of the Army or of the public thought to fight the sort of war which called for the impossible, at once - a war fought close to the shores and thousands of miles away; an air, ground, and sea war; a high-, middle-, and low-altitude war; a tropical war and an arctic war; a long war and a succession of short wars. It could not justly be expected that everybody would be ready for everything, everywhere. The Germans were not, even after half a dozen years head start. Neither were the British. If British scientists suggested that Britain was advanced in all forms of electronics, they were drawing a long bow. If the members of the Tizard Mission talked about what they were going to have as if they already had it, they did so possibly because, being scientists, they thought of the blueprint as the end product. In the field, in action in the Battle of Britain, "radio-location was in its infancy," "the teething troubles with radar were enormous, it was bitterly disappointing," "the S.L.C. radar sets, designed for searchlight work, were not due to come forward until the end of February [1941]," and so on. Hard on the heels of the Tizard Mission's arrival in the United States, American observers left for Great Britain. They reported with conviction on what they saw. In the extreme of Signal Corps Laboratories opinion, gullibility and superficial knowledge misled some of the observers, especially in the Air Corps, into seeing more in British radar than actually existed or would be suitable to the very different needs of the United States. The Laboratories radar men came to this conclusion after they learned that the Chain Home's range was less than they had at first understood, that its height-finding qualities were rough, and that the whole gear sacrificed mobility. Against any line of argument which might have belittled British accomplishment simply in order to exalt the U.S. achievement stood not only the fact that the British had radar much farther in use but also the fact that they had it more efficiently in use. The Telecommunications Research Establishment represented a pool of scientific knowledge from which Army, Navy, and Air alike might draw. British methods of research and development were sometimes more flexible and appropriate than American methods. Their scientists did not carry the laboratory work on a project too far or continue it too long. When a Mark I had emerged, they cut short further development, and the interested arm or service tried out the equipment, incomplete though it was. Meanwhile, the laboratory would start working on a Mark II, incorporating changes in it as the tests of Mark I showed the need for them. Mark III would presently succeed Mark II. In this way, a series of improved versions might come out rapidly, logically, and with a minimum of instrument understanding between technicians who might otherwise grow too remote from immediacy and users who might be oblivious both of the problems and the difficulties of solution. The actual military organization for aircraft detection in Britain was highly effective also; it showed few of the shortcomings which often left the impression, especially in 1941 and 1942, that the American equipment, rather than its operation, was inadequate. Moreover, although the Germans attacked the Chain Home from the beginning, the stations were hard to damage. General Chaney, a special observer of the Battle of Britain, visited one of the CH sites a day or two after an attack which had knocked out two legs of a tower, burned some of the buildings, and killed several girl operators. The station still functioned, guy wire holding up the tower, and there were wooden dummy towers adjacent, both to confuse the enemy and to serve in the event of further emergency. Chaney was an Air Corps officer, one of several who became devotees of British radar. Major Edwards, a Signal Corps representative, also liked British design and recommended immediate purchase of the IFF and ASV equipment, as well as of the very high frequency command radios which the Royal Air Force used. By far the most important sizing up was a quick trip undertaken jointly by Maj. Gen. Delos C. Emmons of the Air Corps and General Strong, the chief of the War Plans Division of the General Staff. Emmons and Strong found an England which everyone presumed would be invaded and which some feared would succumb. They were therefore all the more impressed by the evidences of order, system, and progressive refinement which they saw in the British defenses and scientific establishment. The design, construction, and organization of the command posts which formed the corpuscles of Britain defense struck them particularly. The secret of the success of the operations [there, they noted] is rapid, reliable and accurate channels of communications. The British have installed a very elaborate system of communications, consisting of the telephone, the teletypewriter and the radio. This must have been extremely expensive and required years, but it is the framework upon which the defenses of Britain are built. If England successfully resists an invasion it will be because of this. . . . The fact that an airplane can be picked up by a radio watchman and its position, direction of flight, and so forth reported to a fighter station in a matter of seconds is illustrative of the care with which this system has been designed and of its value. Emmons and Strong also learned of the AI and ASV, respectively the air-to-air detector and the air-to-surface-vessel detector. They did not see an Al, and the British confessed that it was "in limited use at the present time." Actually, the first one had just been ordered. They saw the pip-squeak method of identification, with its use of a visual signal, a plume of smoke shot from the tail of the fuselage when the airplane was coming over a friendly anti-aircraft battery or wanted to signal that it about to attack. And above all, they saw the three principal sets, roughly corresponding to the three which the Signal Corps had developed. They liked all three, and urged that the Signal Corps delay not an instant in dispatching a man to learn from the British book. Thus one of the most significant Signal Corps involvements of World War II began. In less than two months time from the arrival of the Tizard Mission, Signal Corps research had forsworn the sands pit isolation where it had wielded its own radar and had been irrevocably committed to full participation in a world conflict. Departing from the United States to return to England, Tizard said: From our point of view our visit has been a great success, and I hope it has also been of value to [the Americans]. The British Government are only too anxious to have as full as possible cooperation in all scientific and technical developments and I hope the interchange of important technical information will not cease or diminish on our departure. It did not. Under the example of the leaders of the two nations, President Roosevelt and Prime Minister Churchill, cooperation was the order of the day in all enterprises, an order unchanged year after year. The Tizard Mission and the simultaneous Minerva-birth of the National Defense Research Committee (Dr. Vannevar Bush was Jupiter) had pointed up one form of co-operation aside from the international. This was the desirability for collaboration between soldiers and civilians. Englishmen associated from the beginning with the Telecommunications Research Establishment have not hesitated to say that its great work could never have brought so many victories had the Air and War Ministries not recognized their dependence upon civilian intellectuals who were following what often seemed undisciplined courses of thought. Science had advanced by the cooperation of scientists, and military science could advance only by encouragement of the same freedom of investigation and intercourse. At the least, the double collaboration between science and army, Great Britain and the United States, rescued millions of persons from agonized prolongation of the war.