Between 1939 and 1945, the world was locked in a nightmarish and ferocious military struggle. When the acrid smoke of the Second World War cleared, bizarre stories of extraordinary armaments began to emerge. In a world gone mad, nothing had seemed too strange to try. This programme uncovers far fetched weaponry dreamed up by inventive Allied scientists. From a battleship made of ice, to a fleet of pigeon-guided missiles, we comprehensively examine the weird weapons of the Allies.

By the end of 1942, a fierce naval battle had been raging in the Atlantic for almost three years. As German U-boats torpedoed Allied convoys transporting vital supplies to Britain and Russia, British scientists desperately searched for a means of creating an unsinkable battleship. Somewhat unexpectedly, inventor Geoffrey Pike arrived upon the idea of constructing a vessel from ice, tar and refrigeration pipes.

The plan was codenamed the ‘Habbakuk Project’, in honour of the following biblical reference: "Be utterly amazed, for I am doing something in your own days that you would not believe if you were told it". (Habbakuk 1:5) Pyke proposed a 2000 foot ice ship with enough refrigeration equipment to repair any damage inflicted by a German torpedo. Although Churchill expressed interest in the idea, the plan was eventually shelved as aircraft technology improved and doubts arose about Habbakuk’s feasibility.

We also delve into the peculiar tale of ‘Project Pigeon’. The unlikely scheme, which was the brainchild of American behaviourist B.F. Skinner, entailed the creation of a ‘pigeon-guided missile’. The birds would be trained to peck at an image of a ship. Then, harnessed inside a missile, they would be able to guide it towards a real target. Although the US military committed $25,000 to exploring the idea, the project was cancelled in 1944 because the military felt that: "further prosecution of this project would seriously delay others which in the minds of the Division have more immediate promise of combat application".

In an even stranger attempt at animal-based warfare, the ‘bat bomb’ – a project endorsed by Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt – was masterminded by an American dentist. The idea of attaching tiny incendiary bombs to bats, and releasing them over Japanese industrial targets, was not as farcical as it first appeared. Because bats instinctively hide in roofs and attics, their bombs could cause widespread destruction and fire when detonated. Yet the project was cancelled in 1944. Compared to the horrific destructive power of the newly developed atomic bomb, this scientific tinkering with pigeons, bats – not to mention large chunks of ice – suddenly seemed like examples of naïve, and even somewhat charming, wartime tomfoolery.