Product Description

The traditional view of the Battle of Britain is of brave RAF Hurricane and Spitfire pilots thwarting the Luftwaffe's efforts to seize control of the skies over Britain as a prelude to invasion. Yet, the individual bravery and skill of these pilots and the fighting qualities of their aircraft would have been in vain if they had not been part of a highly complex and sophisticated air defence system based on radar. The development of the system in just five years is one of the most remarkable scientific and technological accomplishments of the 20th century. While the battle has been subject to numerous studies, the creation of the radar defences has been somewhat overlooked. Many of the studies of radar have focused on the development of the technology, with little attention given to the creation of the much larger system for integrating radar into the nation's air defences. This work seeks to relate the develoment of radar with the diplomatic and air policy concerns of the period. The study shows how a small group of scientists, engineers, airmen and politicians accomplished this technological miracle. The author also offers a revisionist appraisal of Chruchill's role, showing that his influence was more often than not counter-productive to the development of effective air defences.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #455978 in Books
• Published on: 2001-05-24
• Format: Illustrated
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 224 pages

Customer Reviews

A well-told tale of boffins and bureaucrats
This is a very enjoyable book whose subject matter is familiar enough to attract more than just the technically-inclined reader: anyone interested in how science helped win the Battle of Britain will find it difficult to put down. David Zimmerman has chosen a very definite furrow to plough, one that is aimed squarely between science and warfare. He has turned up a story well worth the telling: how Britain between the wars sought to use science to protect itself from the threat of aerial bombing.
The story involves ongoing showdowns between scientists and politicians, and shows Churchill in particular to have played a rather less than heroic role. One of the book's strengths is its fair and level-headed assessment of the famous dispute between the Air Ministry's key scientific advisor Henry Tizard and the critical, cranky physicist Frederick Lindemann. In this battle of wills Zimmerman sides firmly with the government scientists Churchill and Lindemann try to portray as inefficient and obstructive. We see many presentiments of the later, war leader Churchill, with his 'action this day' imperatives - but also that Tizard and his stuffy scientists are as on top of the job as it is possible to be, having gained the trust both of the bureaucrats and the airmen.
This is, though, perhaps above all, a story of committees and how they deal with scientific ideas. The danger of such a book - one that deals primarily neither with detailed science nor the fighting of a battle - is that it will lack the both the fascination of the former and the thrill of the latter. It is often claimed that Britain undervalues science, and that governments are slow to appreciate, and even slower to fund, scientific research. Yet here is an engrossing account of how the chalk and cheese of Britain's dynamic inter-war scientific community and its bureaucratic governmental processes were made to rub along together and produce, in an astonishingly short time and despite many distractions both scientific and political, the literally life-saving technologies not just of radar itself but of the whole command and control system without which successful interceptions of bombers by fighters could not have been made.
The book is, nevertheless, sometimes too short on science; a few more diagrams would have helped a lot in this respect. There is not even a map of the Chain Home radar system, though we do get one of those comically posed 1940s pictures of a bunch of pipe-smoking boffins, only one of whom is identified. For a story involving so many committees, with frequently overlapping membership, an appendix would have helped keep track of them. It is a pity, too, that the book appears hardly to have been proof-read at all: there are far too many errors, many of which go beyond typos and tenses into more annoying instances of lost threads, and surname-only references to people last mentioned dozens of pages before.
Nevertheless, the book gives a genuine sense of the frictions and serendipities of one of the first, greatest and perhaps most instructive examples of the military use of modern electronic technology.

Excellent history of the first days of radar.
This book describes in detail the origins of radar and it's history up the "Battle of Britain". The personality clashes between the intelligensia involved are quite entertaining with Winston Churchill threatening to throw a spanner in the works at any moment but at the same time chivvying them into concerted action. Professor Lindemann is on hand to annoy or inspire depending on one's point of view. In all most readable, some technical knowledge helps but is not essential. The sense of urgency is well conveyed though a time-line would help as the narrative does hop about a bit. Also a small glossary of the various acronyms and abbreviations would not go amiss. The proof reading was sloppy and leads to some oddities, "protectors" for "protractors", "master contractor" which I feel sure has to be "master contactor". The research for this book must have been daunting but has resulted in a very fine list of sources for further study. The book stands by itself but if Professor Zimmerman could be persuaded to continue the story perhaps including the work of R.R.D.E as well as T.R.E. I don't think you could ask for more!.

A well-told tale of boffins and bureaucrats
This is a very enjoyable book whose subject matter is familiar enough to attract more than just the technically-inclined reader: anyone interested in how science helped win the Battle of Britain will find it difficult to put down. David Zimmerman has chosen a very definite furrow to plough, one that is aimed squarely between science and warfare. He has turned up a story well worth the telling: how Britain between the wars sought to use science to protect itself from the threat of aerial bombing.
The story involves ongoing showdowns between scientists and politicians, and shows Churchill in particular to have played a rather less than heroic role. One of the book's strengths is its fair and level-headed assessment of the famous dispute between the Air Ministry's key scientific advisor Henry Tizard and the critical, cranky physicist Frederick Lindemann. In this battle of wills Zimmerman sides firmly with the government scientists Churchill and Lindemann try to portray as inefficient and obstructive. We see many presentiments of the later, war leader Churchill, with his 'action this day' imperatives - but also that Tizard and his stuffy scientists are as on top of the job as it is possible to be, having gained the trust both of the bureaucrats and the airmen.
This is, though, perhaps above all, a story of committees and how they deal with scientific ideas. The danger of such a book - one that deals primarily neither with detailed science nor the fighting of a battle - is that it will lack the both the fascination of the former and the thrill of the latter. It is often claimed that Britain undervalues science, and that governments are slow to appreciate, and even slower to fund, scientific research. Yet here is an engrossing account of how the chalk and cheese of Britain's dynamic inter-war scientific community and its bureaucratic governmental processes were made to rub along together and produce, in an astonishingly short time and despite many distractions both scientific and political, the literally life-saving technologies not just of radar itself but of the whole command and control system without which successful interceptions of bombers by fighters could not have been made.
The book is, nevertheless, sometimes too short on science; a few more diagrams would have helped a lot in this respect. There is not even a map of the Chain Home radar system, though we do get one of those comically posed 1940s pictures of a bunch of pipe-smoking boffins, only one of whom is identified. For a story involving so many committees, with frequently overlapping membership, an appendix would have helped keep track of them. It is a pity, too, that the book appears hardly to have been proof-read at all: there are far too many errors, many of which go beyond typos and tenses into more annoying instances of lost threads, and surname-only references to people last mentioned dozens of pages before.
Nevertheless, the book gives a genuine sense of the frictions and serendipities of one of the first, greatest and perhaps most instructive examples of the military use of modern electronic technology.