A tale of lies, damn lies and dummy artillery is reported by our public deception correspondent Angus Young.
On 25 January 1915 a notice appeared in Hull newspapers under the heading: “Arousing the Public”. It read: “In the event of certain happenings, for which the Germans will be responsible, the public at Hull are to be warned by the shrill blasts of steam whistles, The steam organ valve whistles are being supplied by Messrs. George Clark and Sons, Waterhouse Lane. The type to be used in Hull are 6in diameter.”
It was the first public warning of the prospect of aerial warfare arriving in the city for the first time.
Just over four months later on the evening of 6 June the whistles were sounded. Previous alarms had amounted to nothing but this time they were followed by the sound of a Zeppelin’s engines and a series of large explosions. Between 20 and 30 bombs were dropped by the enemy airship that night. Nineteen people died directly in the blasts, five more from shock and a further 40 were injured. The Zeppelin had flown over Hull without much resistance. The only return fire came from some Royal Navy ships berthed in the docks. Despite the threat of air raids, no specific military preparation had been put in place to defend the city from attack.
Public fury over the raid spilled over into violence and several shops owned by German families were targeted. In a hasty attempt to restore calm and boost morale, the Army came up with a cunning plan worthy of Baldrick in Blackadder. With few anti-aircraft guns available, an idea was hatched to install a dummy gun on a tall building. It would not only trick the Germans and persuade them to steer clear but also fool the people of Hull into thinking they were now much safer from attack than before.
A request was submitted to Charles Downs, managing director of engineering firm Rose, Downs and Thompson, to place a gun on the reinforced concrete roof of his company’s foundry in Caroline Street. Downs agreed but wasn’t told it was to be made of wood. To maintain the deception, the Army took full control of access to the roof with soldiers posted on duty there every night between 8pm and 5am. People who could see them from nearby houses below didn’t realise the only real firepower at their disposal were naval-style flare rockets. If a Zeppelin was spotted, their secret orders were to discharge three rounds of rockets to make it look like the gun had actually been fired. During the day, soldiers would pretend to clean the weapon before re-covering it with a sheet.
This illusion was maintained for just over six months until Downs discovered the gun was actually a fake. Fearing a public backlash if the deception became more generally known in the event of another raid, he asked the Army to remove it. Grudgingly, his request was agreed to. Once again, Hull was left without any anti-aircraft cover.
Just over a month later the city experienced its second Zeppelin raid of the war during a snowstorm. This time 16 people were killed. Two more raids followed in April and August, killing nine and injuring another 20. An anti-aircraft gun used during the April raid succeeded in bringing the Zeppelin down but in August there was no gunfire at all because it had been relocated elsewhere. A contemporary newspaper report stated: “Eager eyes waited to see the searchlights; eager ears awaited to hear the guns. The Zepp could plainly be seen, but no guns, only bombs. There was one searchlight and what was described as a ‘pop gun’.”
This time anger at Hull being left defenceless once again boiled over with local MPs Thomas Ferens and Sir Alfred Gelder raising the issue in Parliament. Both claimed only one faulty searchlight had been operational alongside a small ineffective gun. Observing wartime censorship rules, Ferens referred to Hull as an “important city on the East Coast” in his question to Major John Baird, parliamentary secretary to the Air Board. “Considering what a well-known mark this place is, was one gun sufficient?” he asked.
Major Baird batted off the question politely. “I hope my Honourable Friend will not think me discourteous, but it is most undesirable to discuss it now.” Later questions would provide the real answer. Demand by the Army for weapons and munitions for use in the battlefields of France meant providing adequate hardware to defend cities like Hull from air raids was not a priority.
Eventually, two large anti-aircraft guns were sent to Hull, being exhibited in Paragon Square before being deployed. They saw action in four further Zeppelin raids
The MPs’ intervention was commended by one correspondent who revived the story of the dummy gun by saying he had submitted a mock tender for guns “to conform to the requirements of the new Wooden Gun Department at the War Office”. The tender offered to supply one gun made of “best deal (softwood) painted two coats at 7s 6d per running foot” and another “tin-plated if required, priced at 25 shillings “inclusive of a good hand barrow for touring gun posts.” Both would be guaranteed “take in the public all the time.”