In their own words...

[bobbysocks]

Josef Frantisek was born a carpenter's son in Otaslavice near Prostejov on 7 October 1913. After his initial trainingas a locksmith, Josef volunteered for the air force, and went through the VLU Flying School in Prostejov in 1934-1936. He was then assigned to the 2nd "Dr. Edvard Benes" regiment in Olomouc. He was with the 5th observation flight flying the Aero A-11, and Letov S-328 biplanes.

It was during this time Josef's individualistic attitude first showed. He never had a sense of disciplineon the ground. Demoted from the rank of Lance Corporal to Private for late returns to his unit, pub fights and other incidents, Frantisek faced the prospect of being released from service. As an exceptionally talented pilot he was chosen for a fighter course with the 4th regiment, and he stayed with this regiment after completing training. In June, 1938 he was assigned to the 40th Fighter Flight in Praha-Kbely. He was under the command of Staff Captain Korcak, and the pre-war Czechoslovak "king of the air" - Lieutenant Frantisek Novak. Frantisek perfected his flying and shooting skills here, flying Avia B-534 and Bk-534 fighters. During the dramatic events of 1938, the 40th flight was dispatched to several airports around Prague to defend the capital. After the Munich agreement, the flight had to return to Kbely, where it stayed until 15 March 1939, when Czechoslovakia was taken by Germany without a fight. Josef Frantisek wasted no time escaping to neighboring Poland.
On 29 July 1939, preparing to travel to France, Frantisek received a offer to join the Polish Air Force. He arrived at Deblin airbase, and after retraining with Polish equipment, became an instructor with the Observation Training Squadron under the Air Force Officers Training Centre Nr 1. He flew PotezXXV, Breguet XIX, PWS 26, RWD 8, RWD 14 Czapla, Lublin R XIII and other aircraft. On 2 September 1939, Deblin was the target of a huge Luftwaffeair raid. Frantisek had no time to take off with his Potez XXV among the falling bombs. He saw 88 Heinkel He 111s from KG 4 "General Wever" turning the largest Polish airbase into a heap of rubble.

Frantisek then left for Gora Pulawska airfield, where, under the command of Captain Jan Hryniewicz, he helped fly the remaining airplanes away from the advancing Wehrmacht. On 7 September 1939, Frantisek and some other Czech pilots were assigned to an observation training squadron at the Sosnowice Wielkie airfield near Parczewo. The unit, commanded by Lieutenant Zbigniew Osuchowski, had fifteen RWD 8 and PWS 25 trainers. On 16 September 1939, after further retreat, the unit was assigned to General of Brigade Skuratowicz to defend the city of Luck. On 18-22 September 1939, they flew reconnaissance and communication flights.

For all their bravery and determination, Polish resistance was coming to an end. On 22 September 1939, the remaining six planes flew from Kamionka Strumilowa airfield to Romania. Three of these machines were flown by Czechs. Frantisek flew General Strzeminski in his machine. They landed at the Ispas airfield, and went on through Cernovici and Jassa to Pipera. They were interned, but escaped on 26 September. They got to Bucharest, obtained documents and on 3 October 1939, boarded the steamer "Dacia" leaving Constanta for Beirut. They continued to Marseilles on board the "Theophile Gautier", entering France on 20 October 1940.

Frantisek stayed with the Polish Air Force in France, which was part of L'Armee de l'Air. He was retrained at Lyon-Bronand Clermont-Ferrand, where he reportedly test-flew aircraft after repairs. There are conflicting reports regarding his combat activities. Some witnesses claimed Frantisek shot down 10 or 11 enemy aircraft flying with the French. These published reports havenever been disproved; yet official French and Polish documents have neither confirmed the claims. Some witnesses recall that Frantisek changed his name temporarily in April, 1940 to protect his family in Otaslavice from persecution by the Gestapo. His cover name is unknown. As long as this question remains unanswered, Frantisek's French period cannot be closed.

On 18 June 1940, after the fall of France, Frantisek took a Polish ship from Bordeaux to England. He arrived at Falmouth on 21 June. Frantisek was sent to a Polish aviation depot in Blackpool, and on 2 August 1940 left for Northolt airfield, where the 303rd Polish Fighter Squadron was being formed. The squadron was equipped with "Hurricane" Mk. I fighters and coded with the letters "RF". In one of first training flights on 8 August Frantisek belly landed - he forgot to open the gear in his Hurricane before landing... Luckily the pilot was untouched and his fighter (RF-M V7245) got only light damage.
Frantisek scored his first kill under British skies on 2 September 1940. This was very busy day for the 303rd - flying three sorties. In the last one, at 16:35, the Squadron took off with orders to encounter a formation of 'bandits' at 20,000 feet over Dover. In the combat, Frantisek and Sgt. Rogowski scored one confirmed Bf 109 each. The next day, the Squadron took off (at 14:45) and was vectored to Dover, where Frantisek again shot down an enemy fighter for his second kill in the "Battle of Britain". On 6 September 1940, in heavy combat, the 303rd downed 5 Bf 109s, but Polish losses this day were serious: both Squadron leaders (Polish - Mjr. Krasnodebski, British - S/Ldr Kellet) and 2 other pilots were shot down, Frantisek luckily returning in his damaged fighter to Northolt. Three days later, Frantisek was forced to land with a badly damaged "Hurricane". The plane was totally destroyed, but Frantisek got out of it, unscathed. 15th September 1940, was a great day for the 303rd, when its pilots tallied 16 victories against the Luftwaffe, and Frantisek downed one Bf 110 in that action.
In only four weeks, from September 2nd through the 30th, Frantisek achieved 17 certain kills and 1 probable . This was a unique achievement in the RAF for this period - bettered only by F/Lt. A.A. McKellar and W/O E.S. Lock. Each of them both had 20 victories, yet both were killed in the "Battle of Britain".

It is often mentioned that Frantisek's excellent results were due to his lack of discipline in the air. He often left the formation and hunted for the enemy on his own. He also waited over the Channel for returning German planes, who were often flying without ammo, with limited fuel, sometimes damaged, and with tired crews. This was a usual tactic for Allied pilots, but only after completing all mission objectives. After Polish pilot mission briefings, Frantisek often disapeared from 303rd formations just after take-off. Despite higher command warnings, for Frantisek lone-wolf missions were like drugs - and his number of kills grew quickly. As the squadron leader, Witold Urbanowicz was facing an almost insoluble dilemma: either discipline Frantisek (which he attempted several times without success), or have him transferred at the expense of losing squadron pride.

Urbanowicz dealt with this cunningly: unofficially declaring Frantisek a squadron guest, which was acceptable due to his Czech origin. The Poles called his tactics "metoda Frantiszka" (method of Frantisek) while the British spoke of the lone wolf tactics. It is by no means true that Frantisek gained all his victories in individual actions - many kills were scored in group missions.

The 303rd squadron had 126 confirmed kills in the Battle of Britain - the most successful record for a RAF squadron in this period. Frantisek, with his 17 kills was not only the best pilot of the squadron, but also among the elite of the RAF.
Frantisek's sudden death in an 8 October 1940 accident remains incomprehensible, as is the casewith some other excellent pilots. Squadron 303 was flying a routine patrol that morning. Frantisek's machine disappeared from the view of his fellow pilots, and he was never again seen alive. At 9:40 a.m. his "Hurricane" Mk.I R4175 (RF-R) crashed on Cuddington Way in Ewell, Surrey. Frantisek was thrown from the cockpit and his body was found in a hedge nearby. At first glance he had only scratches on his face, and his uniform was slightly charred. But Frantisek's neck had been broken in the impact and he died immediately. There has been no definitive cause in the crach of his plane. Some sources say he failed an acrobatic exhibition in front of his girlfriend's house, other witnesses mentionhis absolute exhaustion from previous fighting. A combination of these two factors is a possibility.

His Polish friends buried Frantisek at the Polish Airforce Cemetery in Northolt on October 10, 1940, where he isstill resting. He stayed with the Poles forever.

Frantisek's 17 kills rank him second among the best Czech aces, right after Karel Miroslav Kuttelwascher's 20 victories.


Here is a left side, color profile, of "Hurricane" Mk Ia "RF-U" P3975 flown by Sgt. Josef Frantisek in the hottest time of Battle of Britan. Note the Czechoslovak national insignia under the cockpit, and that Polish 303rd aircraft during that period were not painted with the white & red checkboards that adorned aircraft later in the war. Instead, planes had only the Squadron insignia, visible on the '126' kill score photo. In my opinon Frantisek's "Hurricane" should carry the typical "Kosciuszko Eskadrille" insignia.

[bobbysocks]

Traian Dârjan - the last to fall.

I first heard of Traian Dârjan when I was about five or six years old. It was also the first name of a Romanian WWII aviator I knew. It was a story about his last mission and dogfight. It was part of a pseudo-historical short stories book published before 1989 (when Romania was under a communist regime). Of course the only true things in it where the fact that Traian Dârjan flew with his unit commander on that last day of his life and that one German airplane was shot down. In rest, pure inventions.

He was born in the Someseni village, close to Cluj (in Transylvania) on 18 November 1920. Traian was the fourth child of the Dârjan family, but all previous ones died very young. His father, who had lost a leg in the Great War, fell sick and died in 1923. Traian remained alone with his mother. In 1934 he finished elementary school in his village and was admitted with a partial scholarship to a high-school in Cluj. But he also had to work in a factory's shop for the extra money he needed for school. In 1939 he couldn't find a job anymore and had to quit high-school and return to Someseni where he worked on the small piece of land they had. Near the village was a military air base and Traian had a passion for airplanes since he was a young boy. So in October 1939 he started flight school at ARPA Cluj and received his license in December. He then applied for the Military Flight School at Tecuci and was admitted in July 1940. He graduated on 11 April 1942 and promoted to the rank of adjutant stagiar (staff sergeant).
Adj. stg. Traian Dârjan remained at the school as an instructor until October 1942, when he was transferred to the 9th Fighter Group, equipped with IAR-80s. During 1943, the group changed to the Bf-109G and was sent to the the front on 23 October of the same year to replace the exhausted 7th Fighter Group. He soon started flying in different missions, but the poor weather didn't allow too much activity. On 20 November, the conditions weren't to good ( clouds at 100 m and a powerful wind), but they flew. Adj. stg. Traian Dârjan, while coming in for a landing, capsized and slid off the runaway into a Ju-52 which was parked on the airfield. However he escaped almost without a scratch.

His first victory, a Yak, came on 22 February 1944 when he was flying as cpt. Popescu-Ciocanel's wingman in a free hunting mission and the second one on 10 March, also a Yak. by this time the front line was on Romanian soil, so air activity intensified in a effort to stop the Soviet advance. On 17 April, cpt. Av. Gheorghe Popescu-Ciocanel was escorting a Romanian Ju-88A formation together adj. stg. Traian Dârjan, when they were attacked by La-5s. In the following dogfight, both Romanian pilots managed to shoot down one VVS fighter each. Traian Dârjan added a Yak-9 to his score on 28 April.

While the 9th Fighter Group was engaged in the bloody air battles on the front with the Soviets in Moldavia, other Romanian fighter units were fighting the USAAF raids, which started on 4 April. They were only allowed to intercept the Americans that were flying in their sector towards airbases in the Soviet Union, until 19 June, when the Luftflotte IV devised the "Sternflug" plan to counter the American attacks. When the enemy formations were detected on radar, the 6 German fighter groups and the 7th and 9th Romanian Fighter Groups (Bf-109G) were all assembled and directed against the attacking force. The Fw-190s were suppose to engage the bombers, while the Bf-109Gs protected them from American fighters. The plan was good in theory, but it did not work very well in practice. One such occasions was on 24 June, when 20 of the group's Bf-109Gs were sent to engage the USAAF aircraft. They stumbled upon a formation of 13 Liberators. In the following attack, three B-24s were shot down, one of which belonged to Traian Dârjan. Thus he became an ace with 7 victories.

The 9th Group continued to carry out missions on the front in Moldavia and also against the 15th Air Force's raids. Adj. stg. Traian Dârjan achieved his next victory on 9 July during an escort mission. He and adj. Constantin Nicoara were protecting a Romanian Stuka formation, when they were attacked by 4 Yaks. These were soon joined by 2 La-5s. The Romanian pilots shot down a Yak each during that dogfight. However, Nicoara's victory remained probable.

The day of 26 July 1944 remained in the group's history as "Black Sunday". 18 Gustavs from the 9th Fighter Group took off to engage a formation of 20 unescorted bombers, as the radar station reported. In fact there were more bombers, which were protected by over 100 P-38s and P-51s. The Romanian pilots scored 11 victories, but the price was very high: 7 airplanes, four dead pilots and two wounded. During the battle, Traian Dârjan joined adj. Iosif Moraru, who had just shot down a P-38 in his attempt to locate his victim (for confirmation of the victory). They were attacked by other Lightnings and adj. Dârjan shot down one of them.

The fights with the USAAF continued until 18 August, when cpt. Serbanescu was shot down. Adj. Traian Dârjan tried to warn him that there were Mustangs on his tail, but it seems the captain's radio wasn't working. He watched with horror how Alexandru Serbanescu was going down and then crashed.

On 20 August 1944 the Red Army launched the Iasi -Chisinau (Jassy-Kishinev) Operation and the air activity on the Moldavian front boomed. On 21, adj. Dârjan was part of a patrol (Schwarm) lead by cpt. Constantin Cantacuzino which was on a free-hunting mission. They encountered a formation of 24 Il-7s escorted by 6 Yaks. They engaged the fighters and shot down three of them. Traian Dârjan got one them. This was his last kill. The second day he was shot down in a dogfight with several La-5s. His radiator was hit, the windscreen was covered with oil and the cockpit filed with smoke. Lt. Gavriliu guided him through radio and he managed to crash land. Here's the rest of the story from lt. Ion Dobran's diary:

"I opened the cockpit and jumped out. Near the crash site there were some trees and I tried to hide there. i didn't have time to because at about 100 m there was a Soviet armored column. Bullets passed near me... I raised my hands and walked towards them...soldiers with submachine-guns were coming after me. They encircled me and wanted to shoot me on the spot. I was covered with mud from head to toe. I had fallen into a swampy field. They took some of my clothes and my boots. Suddenly the circle opened and an officer came there. He started to hit me with his fists and feet. My luck was that at 200 m it was a major tank unit's command post and the general wanted to see me. I was called to him and, with the help of a translator, he started to question me. he asks me to respond to his questions and he will let me go. I replied as well as I could. He ordered to give my clothes back to me and I remained there. The general had a map on which the city Vaslui didn't appear, so he wanted my map. I told him I don't have it (and it was the truth), because we don't take them for such a small sector. He got very angry and threatened to shoot me if I didn't give him the map in 3 minutes. I think my face changed dramatically. I told him again that I don't have it. The seconds passed very slow, like years, and the 3 minutes were up. A soldier stuck a gun to my head. I closed my eyes and waited for the shot. The general shouted: "Give me the map!!!" and I replied that I don't have it. He left me alone and then asked how many victories I had and I answered:"12". "You are good", he said. "There are many others better than me in my group". I asked for permission to smoke and got it and then for some water. A soldier brought it swearing. The general asked me if I didn't want to go with him. Of course I said yes... what I suppose to do... We jumped into a car and headed for Vaslui. North of the city there was an air alarm. We ran into a corn field for cover. There were Romanian Stukas which rained havoc on the armor and troop concentration. [Ironically, lt. Ion Dobran was escorting the Stukas that day] The Russians turned their guns on me and asked if those were Romanian airplanes. They swear. I was lucky that the translator (a nice guy from Odessa) put himself between them and me. After two minutes came German Fw-190s, which continued the Stukas' attack. What can I say? It was horrible! I have never seen or think such a "show". Tanks thrown off the road, overturned, burning... broken hands and feet... the Russians were mad. The General, as he had promised, saved me and set me free. I was forced, however, to go north towards Iasi. I was thinking to go to Nicoara's village. [adj. stg. Nicoara was a comrade from the 9th Fighter Group] On the road I met other Romanian soldiers. A peasant gave us to eat, but was too afraid to take us in and we had to walk on.[...] When we approached Iasi we were stopped by Russian soldiers, arrested and sent to a prison camp north of the city. We were about 4,000 there. They gave one loaf of bread to six men and soup, but I never got to the boiler, because there was a big squash. To make room around it, two Russians whipped the crowd without mercy. After ten days there I was so thin that I could barely walk. We slept on the ground, when we could find a place. Together with two soldiers, I took advantage of the fact that they were moving us to Botosani (and then to Russia) and fled. The guards were few and careless and didn't see us. I got to to Nicoara's village traveling cross-country. His mother took me in for 4 days, until I recovered. She gave me peasant clothes and I left for Tecuci [it was the group's base when he was shot down in August] where I arrived a few days later. There I was well received by my Jews. The Russians treated them as bad as they treated us. Generally, the city hadn't been robbed more than others. Ignatyi Semionovich's family was still there and were concerned because they didn't know what to do: go back to Odessa or stay there. They have heard that there were heavy punishments for the ones that left willingly. They gave a note for you [lt. Dobran], but I lost it. I took a train to Bucharest and went to the Flotilla." He was then sent to the front again and joined his comrades on 30 September, on the Turnisor airfield in Transylvania, were the 9th Fighter Group was deployed in the new anti-Axis campaign.

The weather didn't allow very much activity during late autumn and winter of 1944, but every effort was made to help the ground troops in need of assistance. The Luftwaffe wasn't a very common sight in this period, because of the little importance given to this part of the front. Most of the Romanian losses in Hungary and Czechoslovakia were due to the AA artillery and accidents.

On 25 February 1945, the last major ARR (Eronautica Regala Romana=Royal Romanian Aeronautics) offensive of the war was launched. It was aimed at supporting the ground forces which were attacking in the Zvolen area. On his fifth mission that day, cpt. Cantacuzino took off with adj. Traian Dârjan. They encountered 8 Fw-190Fs which were attacking Soviet troops. and engaged. The captain, ARR's top scoring ace of the war, shot down one of them and the others fled. In order to validate the kill, the two Romanian pilots got careless and started to look for the wreck. They failed to see the approaching Rotte of German Bf-109Gs, lead by Helmut Lipfert. Adj. Traian Dârjan failed victim to the Luftwaffe ace, his former instructor at Tiraspol. A 13 mm bullet almost beheaded him. He crashed near the Romanian lines. Cpt. Cantacuzino didn't even notice that his wingman was in trouble. He was also surprised by Lipfert's comrade and shot down. He escaped and returned to the 9th Fighter Group's base with a car from a Romanian division. He told what happened and concluded: "Adj. Dârjan must be dead."

Lt. Dobran remembered, in his diary, that in the moment they left for Hungary, Dârjan's mother started to cry, probably knowing that he may not come back.

Traian Dârjan was the last of the 16 pilots of the 9th Fighter Group to die during WWII. He had scored 11 confirmed and one probable victory and had flown 176 missions.

[bobbysocks]

A note from moderator. I'm trying to avoid portraiting ONLY the brave pilots, aces, heroes of that time - so from time to time in WW II Ace Stories appeard some most controversion pieces of text (see also Poland 1939 - The Diary of Luftwaffe Atrocities). For some, unknown for me, reason, a lot of people don't like to remember about all atrocities of war, but I would like to clearly show also the dark side of war...

The Winter War started on the 30th Nov 1939 as Stalin decided to enforce his will on Finland with force as Finland could not be intimidated into submission. At 06.00 the Red Army crossed the border and Soviet aircraft took off as soon as it was enough light. Soviet Union deployed against Finland 1500 to 3200 aircraft, the sources give different numbers. The Finnish Air Force had initially 36 Fokker D.XXI fighters, 17 Blenheim Mk.I bombers and 31 Fokker C.X dive-bombers. The Anti-aircraft artillery comprised initially 38 pcs 75mm guns, 30 pcs 40mm guns, 49 pcs 20mm guns and 125 pcs 7,62mm machine-guns. The number of guns was roughly tripled by the end of the war.

On the very first day of the war 16 cities and towns in Southern Finland were bombarded by 200 bombers of the Soviet Air Force (VVS). A particularly murderous surprise raid was carried out against Helsinki whose inhabitants did not yet comprehend that they were in war. Nine Soviet SB-2 had according to Soviet sources been searching for the two Finnish Navy monitors "Vainamoinen" and "Ilmarinen", but failing to find them attacked the spare target: the Presidential Palace in Helsinki near the Market Square. The enemy airmen failed to locate that target, too, and the bombs fell in the center of the city near the bus terminal at 14.50 hours, more than one kilometer from the target, causing panic and destruction. 91 people, mainly women and children, were killed and 36 seriously plus 200 slightly wounded. Several houses were destroyed. The anti-aircraft guns shot down three of the SB's, that had been able to surprise the air defence by making use of the cloud cover.

(However, some questions remain. If the Soviet bombers were to attack armoured ships, they should have been loaded with heavy armour piercing bombs. According to Finnish sources, 133 high explosive bombs and 60 incendiary bombs had been deployed. Secondly, the Presidential Palace is prominently situated near the Market Square. Even when disturbed by AA, trained bomber-navigators should have been able to locate it. Suspicion of a purposeful terror attack is strong!)

The strategic objective of the Soviet bombing campaign was to persuade the Finnish government to give up resistance and surrender, maybe even to make the resistance collapse physically, and plain terrorise the civilian population into submission. Strategic raids were carried out against harbours and railways. Tactical raids were carried out in the immediately vicinity of the front line and against air bases.

The result of the strategic raids, however, was counterproductive.

Firstly, the Finnish people did not feel any wish to surrender to a brutal enemy but instead they began to hate Soviet Union even more and hope for a revenge on the enemy. The civilians in the air raid shelters felt that they, too, were fighting for their country.

Secondly, the world's opinion in 1939 was not yet dulled by massive air bombardment of cities, and attacking civilian targets was considered an outrage. U.S. president Roosevelt sent a message to Moscow wishing that Soviet bombers should not be allowed to bomb Finnish cities. Comrade Molotov, the People's Commissar for Foreign Affairs, answered in the honest Soviet style that Soviet bombers have not bombed and shall not bomb Finnish cities, but only air bases, which cannot be seen from America which is 8000 km away. The Soviet propaganda claimed indeed, that the photos of burning houses and killed civilians were taken in 1918. Also, the Soviet Aircraft were said to drop bread for the starving Finnish people, absolutely no bombs. Soon the Soviet fire bomb dispenser pod was nicknamed "Molotov's bread basket".

Stalin had planned to occupy Finland in two weeks, whereafter Molotov's lies would soon be forgotten. The Soviet Union had already set up a puppet government, "the People's Government of Finland" (made up of Finnish -born Soviet Communist party functionaries surviving the purges of '37) and claimed that all military action was only to help that government. There was no war, just action against the "armed bands" of the Helsinki government to help the oppressed people of Finland: this was the official line of the Kreml. The Finnish people, however, tenaciously refused to be liberated by Stalin.

The Soviet commanders learned from their mistakes and in February 1940 concentrated the air raids on the railroad system to disrupt the Finnish army supplies of war material to the front. That was a fairly successful strategy, the trains could run only in the night, and due to te massive schale of the raids the Finnish railway system was on the verge of collapse as the war ended. The repair crews could not keep pace with the damage inflicted at the rolling stock and the rail network. But it was not the VVS that decided the outcome of the war but the masses of the Red Army.

By the end of the 105 day war the 13th of March 1940 the Soviet Air Force (VVS) according to Finnish statistics had raided 690 cities, towns and villages. The Soviet sources state that the Army bombers flew 44041 missions and the Navy bombers some 8000 more. 25000 tons of bombs were dropped.

According to Finnish statistics the VVS bombers had dropped 55000 pieces bombs and 41000 pcs incendiary bombs and the enemy fighters had carried out 440 ground strafing raids against civilians. There may have been some incidents when infuriated civilian mob attacked captured Soviet airmen and lynched them... But these are only rumours. Dead Soviet airmen were unceremoniously buried by local people where found and no questions asked.

The VVS lost 207 aircraft shot down by FAF fighters and 314 to Finnish AA. The share of bombers is not known.

The casualties of Finland's civilian population were - 956 killed, 540 badly wounded and 1300 lightly wounded.

Material losses included (industrial and military excluded) - 157 town houses and 1800 wooden houses destroyed - 99 stone houses burnt out, - 600 town houses and 4100 wooden houses damaged

The Soviet Air Force bombing campaign is best summed up by the following anecdote:

The town of Porvoo was bombarded heavily three times (a fact), and one Soviet airman was taken prisoner as his bomber had been shot down. He was asked why they attacked Porvoo, an undefended small town without any military significance: there was but a shallow harbour and no rail link. The Soviet airman answered:

- Vot, the infamous agitator Runeberg is living there ! (J.L.Runeberg, born 1804, died 1877. He is the national poet of Finland.)

The Soviet airmen were insufficiently and often unsuitably trained, inexpertly led and their morale was not very high. Also the defender had enough AA artillery in the most important targets to force the attacker to bomb from high altitude (about 7000m) resulting in reduced accuracy. Moreover, the bombs were stowed in the SB-2 tail down, and after release the bombs developed an oscillation further reducing accuracy.

From the point of view of modern international law the Soviet attack on Finland was a crime, air raids at civilian targets likewise. But since these deeds and people who committed them have never been tried in court, nobody has any legal right to call them the crimes that they are...

pic 1 This is the famous Molotov's Bread Basket. It has been delivered, there is visible the dent at the bottom. The soldier supporting it is a FAF Lance Corporal. There is one sample "buhanka" inside! When dropped, the winglets in the top folded out and made the "basket" rotate and the centrifugal force scattered the incendiary "loaves".

[bobbysocks]

"Illu" Juutilanen - the Top Ace. (Finnish)

Born on the 21 February 1914 at Lieksa, Finnish Carelia. Later the family moved to Sortavala. The father was a railway worker who lost both legs in an accident.

As a boy Juutilainen read the book by Manfred von Richthofen, "The Red Fighter Pilot" which made him dream about becoming a pilot. (the book in English: http://www.wtj.com/pl/pages/greatwar.htm). Also the vicinity of the Kasinhanta Air Base with its seaplanes and pilots added to the appeal of aviation.

Juutilainen did his military service in Signal Corpsduring 1932-1933 and was trained as a telegraphist.

After having fulfilled his compulsory service Juutilainen acquired a private pilote's licence from the Karhumaki Brothers' Flying School. Then, in 1935, he became an enlisted NCO in the Armed Forces.

Finally, in 1936 he applied for an Air Force NCO pilot course. He was accepted and due to his pilot's licence and telegraphist's skill he was made the elder of the course. Juutilainen did very well, but he spent a lot of time in custody - 27 days in a four-month course. The reason was that as the elder he was responsible for the misdeeds of his course - mostly excessive drinking. Personally he earned only one week for flying too low. After the course was completed, "Illu" had to sit in the "jug" for another week to serve the custody ordered to him.

Juutilainen started his career as a NCO pilot in a Reconnaisance Squadron in Suur-Merijoki in May 1937. He was considered a good and reliable pilot, much liked by the officer-observers. He was married in the same year with Miss Anni Nurmi, and their first son was born in 1938.

Sgt. Juutilainen was transferred to Sqn.24 to fly the Fokker D XXI's in March 1939. In a few weeks he became a good fighter pilot: his shooting skill was excellent. No wonder, hunting with dog and shotgun was his favourite hobby when the season was in. Juutilainen was fit as a professional athlete, he was also a teetotaller and non-smoker, staying like that during the whole of the war and also afterwards.

In the Winter War he flew as the wingman of the 3rd flight commander, Lt. Eino Luukkanen. He scored two proven victories. However, he fired his first angry shots with a pole-mounted Lewis gun from the ground against SB-2 bombers attacking the Immola Air Base on the 1st of December 1939.

The 3rd Flight was commanded to defend the area NE of the lake Ladoga. There, at the front section Kollaa, was fighting "Illu"'s brother, res. Lt.Aarne Juutilainen as a distinghuised infantry company commander. (This other Juutilainen was nationally known as the "Terror of Morocco" because he had served in the French Foreign Legion in N. Africa.)

The Fokker squadron carried out ground strafing raids on the ice covering the Bay of Viipuri against the Red Army columns the 1. to 12. March 1940. Those missions were hard for the Finnish fighter pilots because they really saw the lethal effect of their bullets. The enemy columns were initially without white camouflage clothing, and always marching in tight file formations. Shooting at aircraft was in a sense symbolic, a fighter pilot mostly did not see what happens to the crew of the victim aircraft. Illu did not feel good to see in his sighting scope how defenseless Red Army infantrymen flopped in the snow upon impact of his bullets. But he had to do his duty, the pilots knew that every enemy soldier left on the ice as casualty would relieve the pressure of the Finnish infantrymen defending the coastline. He flew eleven ground attack sorties.

In the Winter War Juutilainen scored two confirmed victories.

When the war against Soviet Union started again on 25 June 1941, Juutilainen was flying a Brewster in the 3st flight of LeLv 24 (Sqn.24). The 3rd Flight became later known as the "Knight Flight" because of the three holders of the Mannerheim Cross serving in it.

In 1941 he scored 13 confirmed victories and in 1942 next 21 victories.

In March 1943 Juutilainen was transferred to a new unit, Fighter Squadron 34, which was equipped with new Messerschmitt 109 G2 fighters. The Me with its 20 mm gun became his efficient tool and now he really began to excel. Less experienced or careless Soviet pilots had little chance when engaged by "Illu". The Soviet intelligence knew him well enough to once contact him via radio...

Finally in 1943 he scored 'only' 19 victories, but the 1944 was most successful recording additional 40 kills!

Illu shared von Richthofen's view: the task of a fighter pilot is to take his guns to an advantageous position in relation to the enemy and shoot him down. For Illu a fighter plane was a flying gun platform, nothing else. If Hasse Wind could be compared with Réné Fonck, so Illu Juutilainen was Georges Guynemer - the calculating tactician. A good example of this is what happened on early March 1944 (the story is in the second file). He attacked alone four La-5 led by Soviet Hero Medvetyev above Suulajarvi AB, despite low fuel.

He always looked back before opening fire, and if the enemy was approaching, he abandoned the target and prepared to meet the new challenge. Never was Juutilainen's fighter hit by enemy fighter fire during his 437 missions. (Once, flying a crucially important reconnaisance mission in June 1944, he was very nearly shot down as the oil tank of his Me was holed by the enemy AA. ) Yet he was an aggressive pilot, but never foolhardy. He had good luck, too. In his memoirs he conveys the impression that he really enjoyed aerial dogfights when flying a BW or a MT, sometimes he even was dissatisfied as an unskillful enemy succumbed too easily.

Illu Juutilainen had a matter-of-factly and professional attitude to war and fighting. He did not hate the enemy. For example on 14th March 1942 he shot up the engine of a MiG-3 at Karkijarvi, Eastern Carelia. The enemy pilot belly-landed on a bush-covered marsh. Juutilainen flew over to check, and saw the Soviet pilot standing at his MiG, waving his hand. The Finnish pilot made another pass and rocked his wings in salute before retreating.

Another time, on 23 September 1943 there was a hard battle over the Sepeleva Lighthouse, 10 Me's against a number of Yak-1, LaGG-3 and La-5. Juutilainen had shot down one of each kind and his 20mm ammo was spent as he was attacked by another La-5 at a low altitude. The Finnish pilot did his standard trick: he pulled his fighter into a tight climbing turn, and kept climbing and waiting until the over-eager enemy pilot would stall his fighter in an futile attept to pull the correct deflection. When the La-5 had stalled and dived to recover manouverability, Juutilainen was already 20 m behind his tail. Both fighters recovered from the dive at wavetops. Juutilainen fired at the enemy, saw holes appear in the fuselage of the La-5 but the 7.9 mm bullets had no other effect. Suddenly the La-5 pulled up, the Me followed but the pilot blacked out. As he recovered, he found himself wingtip to wingtip with the enemy. The two pilots looked each other in the eye. Juutilainen found the situation amusing, he smiled and waved his hand. The Soviet pilot responded and rocked his wings as a sign of truce. The Finnish pilot responed. Again the Soviet pilot waved his hand and flew his fighter below the Me toward Kronstadt. Juutilainen also turned toward Suulajarvi.

In July 1941 he saw his house in the Soviet-occupied town of Sortavala from the air, but as the Finnish troops took the town 24 hours later the retreating Soviets had burnt the house down, among many others. But Illu was not bitter. He told, chuckling, in an televised interview in 1997 : "It is war: if the enemy burns your house down, you go and burn one of the enemy's houses!" He did not burn down any houses, but shot down enemy aircraft. His official score is 94 confirmed victories, but he believes he shot down a total of 120 enemies.

He was decorated with the Mannerheim Cross twice, on 26 April 1942 and on 28 June 1944. He is one of the two pilots thus honoured. (Hans Wind was the other one). Citation in 1942: "Flight Master Juutilainen has displayed exemplary bravery and indomitable battle spirit with excellent skill and resourcefulness in several air battles." In 1944 the citation was " Flight Master Juutilainen's offensive spirit and skill has earned him 73 victories, 15 of which during the present enemy offensive. This is in our circumstances a brilliant military achievement, taking into account that most of the victories have been gained in battle against numerically great enemy superiority".

Juutilainen was promoted as Sr. Sgt. on 31 December 1939 and less than one month later to the rank of Sergeant-Major. He reached the top of his military career on the 1 March 1941, as he became Flight Master (the rank is also known as Air Master Sergeant or Warrant Officer.)

Juutilainen concentrated on flying instead of career. He was offered a chance to study in the Cadet School and become a commissioned officer, but he declined, explaining that during the year spent in studies he would lose his touch in flying. Then any enemy could shoot him down before he would have relearned his skill. Juutilainen loved flying and air battles, and being a husband and father of three sons did not slow him down the least. He was also an outdoorsman, his favourite hobbies were hunting and fishing. His character was extroverted and he was popular with the other pilots due to his witty humour and willingness to give advice. He was radiating vitality and self-confidence, which also rubbed on other pilots thus improving the general feeling in the unit. When "Illu" was asked after the war whether he ever feared, he said that he never felt fear, just urge for action.

For his squadron leader and flight commander he was an exemplary soldier with his good behaviour and high fighting spirit. However, there was one thing that Maj. Luukkanen had to turn a blind eye to: Juutilainen did not obey the standing order to avoid battle during a reconnaisance mission. "Illu" rationalized this by maintaining that the delay in providing the recce data was small (less than half an hour) and the "dual mission" made better use of the limited number of fighters... It did not occur to him that he could have been shot down and the data would be totally lost ! For example...

In the afternoon of the 1st July 1944 as Juutilainen was preparing for a recce mission on the Western side of the Carelian Isthmus with Sgt.-Maj. Antti Tani, they decided that they would meet the enemy during the sortie. Juutilainen flew his trusted MT-457, but Tani's fighter was the new MT-453 that still retained her 20mm wing cannons, and the pilot was most eager to test the triple-cannon firepower.

They carried out their mission, Juutilainen observed the ground and made notes about road and rail traffic and tank, artillery and troop concentrations while Tani covered him. They saw enemy aircraft but Juutilainen ignored them. In the return leg of the mission they flew towards Tali, where heavy ground battle was being fought. To their great satisfaction they found about 40 Il-2's - unescorted! Juutilainen told his wingman to roll his battery in position, and they attacked the rearmost wave of the Stormovik formation. Juutilainen shot down one near Juustila, and Tani wrecked two thanks to his firepower. Then they attacked the following wave ahead, the Stormoviks behind fired at them with their wing guns, but without result. Both pilots shot down one enemy more each at Pakkainen, then they were out of ammo and short on fuel after 10 minutes of engagement. They landed at Lappeenranta and gave their raport to the intelligence officer.

What kind of a man becomes a good fighter pilot? "Eikka" Luukkanen has listed some characteristics:
- Physical: good eyesight, good physical condition, rapid reactions
- Mental: excellent situational awareness, adventurousness

He may have had his top ace Illu Juutilainen in mind when making that list. A good fighter pilot never really grows up, Luukkanen wrote. Illu was one of these happy men. Consider the following incidents:

As Juutilainen was decorated with the Mannerheim Cross in April 1942, the reporter of the Aunus (Olonez) radio came to interview him in the base. The natinonally famous reporter, Pekka Tiilikainen asked in a magnificent voice vibrant with patriotism:

- Tell us, Illu, about your feelings at this great moment?

Juutilainen answered - in a live transmission:

- Well, at the moment I am thinking about the delicious cabbage casserole that my mother used to make.

Humour and practical jokes had a serious purpose. The major part of a fighter pilot's life consisted of waiting for a scramble alarm - life in constant nervous tension. In addition to chatting, reading or card playing practical jokes (for example rigging a tripping wire across the path to the canteen or booby-trapping a toilet door) were a way to relieve stress and think of something else than the next sortie.

Whenever there was a special mission for Juutilainen, the young replacement pilots would literally crowd around him, each one begging: "Illu, take me with you!" They knew: when flying as his wingman they would find action. Moreover, they were sure that the enemy was not able to surprise Illu, and in a dogfight he would save you in case you got in trouble. Consider the following:

On the 1st of June 1944 the 1st flight of Squadron 34 led by Lt. Pokela was scrambled to Teikari Island to intercept enemy ground attack planes. Juutilainen's wingman was Lt. "Saku" Heiskanen, a young pilot. At Teikari the first division (4 Me's) attacked the Stormoviks, and as the escorting six Yak-9's intervened, Pokela ordered the 2nd division at them. The Yak's dispersed, some dived on, others pulled up. Lt. Heiskanen was careless and got one Yak behind his tail. Juutilainen came to rescue, but another Yak was just closing on him. Fortunately for Heiskanen, Sgt. Leino engaged the Yak, allowing Juutilainen to continue his rescue operation. Heiskanen kept climbing and curving, seeing that "white zero"(MT-457) was approaching the enemy. When in close range, Juutilainen fired a burst, and the Yak dived, trailing heavy smoke from her engine...

After the war

In late September 1944 a rare visitor, Soviet Air Force Col.Lt. V.F. Golubev, the commander of 4.GIAP (Guards' Fighter Regiment) came to see the pilots of the Squadron 34 at Utti Air Base.

According to the conditions of the ceasefire treaty Golubev's unit had been stationed for a while at Malmi, the airport of Helsinki. He decided to make use of the opportunity and meet the men he had fought against - with a risk to himself.

When Illu Juutilainen was introduced to Golubev, the Soviet officer said nothing, just shook his hand longer than anybody elses. 60 years later "Illu" said in an interview that the greatest decoration a soldier can get is an acknowlegment given by his enemy.

In May 1947 Juutilainen resigned from the FAF service and bought an old DH Moth from the Air Force surplus stock. Then he had the plane repaired and entered in civilian register. Finally he hired a mechanic and became a self-employed pilot. He toured with his Moth and mechanic around Finland, offering ten-minute flights at rural fairs and small towns. There always were people who wanted to be flown around by the famous ex-fighter pilot, a double holder of the Mannerheim Cross, providing Illu and his family with income.

Juutilainen was selected as one of the six pall-bearers at Marshal Mannerheim's burial on the 4th February 1951. (Four of the men were generals, Juutilainen represented the NCO's and the rank and file were represented by L.-Cpl. Seppanen, a "tank killer". All men were holders of the Mannerheim Cross.) In 1956 Juutilainen's war memoirs were published. The publisher was a small company, and nowadays the original edition is a rarity, but a reprint has been published recently. The author chose to name his opus "As a Nuisance to Red Pilots" which in those days was not p.c. The book was translated in English by a FAF General and a USN Admiral, then published as "Double Fighter Knight" in 1997. (You can check the book review at this site: http://www.hkkk.fi/~yrjola/war/refs/refs.htm/#faf)

Illu Juutilainen is now living on pension in his home, in reasonable good health so far.

Trivia

Winter War planes: FR-106 and FR-108 (one victory with each)
1941-1943 he flew mostly the BW-364 (29 victories)
1943-1944 he flew first mostly the MT-222 (16 victories), then MT-426 (9 victories) and finally MT-457 (18 victories). He did not allow his ground crew paint any "personal emblems" on his fighter, except the victory bars on the BW-364 vertical stabilizer

Victim list:
I-153 -13; I-16 -11; SB-2 -2; DB-3/-3F -5; MiG-1/-3 -5; Hurricane -4; Spitfire -2; LaGG-3 -5; Tomahawk P-40 -1; Lightning P-38 -1; Pe-2 -4; Airacobra P-39 -4; La-5 -11; La-7 -1; Yak-1/-7 -2; Yak-9 -12; IL-2 -7; Mustang P-51 -2; He-111 -1; Li-2 -1.

Sad epilouge...
In end of February 1999, almost at the same moment, when his story landed in Ace Stories, "Illu" Juutilainen 'took off for his last flight' without return... He shall be buried on the 13th March 1999. It's strange, but it's the anniversary of the day the Winter War ended in 1940...

1. Opening of Score

The 3rd Flight of Fighter Squdron 24 was scrambled about 08.00 on the 19th Dec.1939 at the Immola Air Base. Sgt. Juutilainen, flying the FR-108, took off after the others had gone, due to a minor problem in starting his engine. When he was at Antrea he heard a radio report: Three enemy bombers flying from Heinjoki to Antrea. The Finnish pilot looked around, and 30 seconds later he saw three DB-3 bombers with red stars on the wings and fuselage sides flying 500 m below, unescorted as they used to be in the early war.

Juutilainen was in an ideal starting position as he dived to attack. Having seen the Fokker the bombers released their bomb loads in the forest below and turned to South, further enabling the attacker to gain on them.

Juutilainen acted methodically as he had been trained to do. He opened fire at a range of 100 m, killing the gunner of the left wing bomber, then he elimininated the gunner of the leading bomber and finally the one of the right wing bomber. Now he did not have to worry about being shot at anymore.

He approached the leading bomber and fired at the left engine at a range of 20 m. The bomber's engine began to trail smoke, then he fired at the right engine of the same bomber. Next he dealt with each engine of the wing bombers.

But the three DB-3's continued flying, though with slow speed, engines trailing smoke, and Juutilainen had spent all his 2200 cartridges. He followed his targets up to front line, where the leading bomber suddenly went in nosedive and crashed. The wing bombers continued their flight, slowly losing altitude...

Juutilainen had to return, there was nothing more to be done. Thinking about the battle he did not feel anything special, except frustration that he felt seeing another bomber formation while returning to the base... Everything had been like another aerial shooting training mission.

2. Chasing, being chased...

28th Sept. 1941. The 1st Flight of Squadron 24 took off at 0800hrs from the Mantsi Temporary Air Base on the coastline of Lake Ladoga with six Brewsters. Their mission was to cover five Blenheims on their raid against the Suoju river railway bridge. The mission was uneventful until the bombers turned back after dropping their bombs.

Illu Juutilainen saw a MiG-1 approach from below, turned at the attacker and gave her a brief chase. He disengaged having seen that the Soviet fighter was faster. He began to climb to join the rest of the convoy.

Suddenly he felt that something was wrong - he looked back and there the MiG was just behind his tail! The enemy opened fire, Juutilainen dived to the treetops to shake the enemy off. But the enemy pilot was very good at low level flying, carefully avoiding every obstacle.

The engine of the BW-364 began to warn about overstrain. The pilot pulled his fighter gradually to 600m and then took a risk. He pulled a tight curve that the less manouverable MiG could not follow. When the MiG pilot saw that the BW was getting behind his tail, he panicked and committed the error of his life. Instead of using his superior speed he continued to turn.

Now the Finnish pilot had the upper hand. He was flying so close to the enemy that he could actually throttle back, making use of the "draught" of the MiG. Juutilainen checked first his instruments, all the temperatures and pressures of the Wright Cyclone were within normal. The two fighters kept circling a small village at a speed of 240 kmh at treetops. The pursuer fired but the MiG's armour admirably withstood the 0.5" projectiles.

The enemy tightened his curve until he was in the verge of stalling, then he in turn resorted to low-level flight at 400 kmh . Juutilainen followed easily, only at times the backwash of the enemy hit his wingtips, making the BW bank involuntarily. He had no chance to shoot, however, jumping trees, houses and other obstacles, twice even flying under power lines. He had his next chance to fire as they flew over the enemy base at Viitana, but again it was as if the BW's guns had been loaded with wooden bullets.

Now a water tower made of bricks was ahead. The MiG passed it, the BW pulled up. The Soviet pilot lost his pursuer from his view, but the Finnish pilot kept observing his target.

The MiG turned back to the base, banking in the curve. Juutilainen made use of his chance to fire in the cockpit of the enemy from the inside of the curve at a range of 50 m. The pilot was hit and the enemy fighter crashed in the middle of the airfield, disintegrating totally. The victorious Finnish pilot continued over the enemy base in low level flight and took a shot at the enemy personnell before departing.

It was not until he was back in the base, describing the incident to his ground crew, that Juutilainen found that his arms and legs were shaking. His victory was confirmed.

3. Calculated Risk-taking

March 1944, date 7th , 8th or 9th , exactly not mentioned. Flt.Mstr. Juutilainen was on a recce mission in the middle of the day with his wingman Sr.Sgt. Peltola. Their task was to count the number of the enemy aircraft in the airbases of Gorskaya, Levachovo and Kasimovo plus monitor the road and railway traffic North of Leningrad. At Levachovo the enemy had put the fighters in covered bunkers. Defying the enemy AA Juutilainen flew across the base at such a low altitude that he could look inside the bunkers. The aircraft were La-5 fighters.

The two pilots were returning to the base as they heard a report: Four enemy fighters over Perkjarvi at 4500 m - that meant next door to the Suulajarvi base, deep behind Finnish lines. Peltola landed due to engine problem... Juutilainen pulled the stick and let his MT-222 climb. He was not ordered to engage the enemy, actually he should have landed to delivered the reconnaisance data. But his battle spirit, egged by the buzzing of the enemy base, was too strong.

At 5500 m, about six minutes later, he saw four La-5 fighters 500 m below. He dived to approach them from behind.

He just had the enemy leader in his gunsight as the enemy formation dispersed and each La-5 began to climb and turn to get behind the Me. So they had seen him coming all the time! The enemy fighters had white rudders, meaning they belonged to the 10. Gv.IAP, and now Juutilainen heard from his headphones that the enemy leader was Squadron Leader Medvetjev, a double Soviet Hero. - As if that piece of information had helped the lone Finnish pilot!

Now Juutilainen decided to keep the enemy engaged until some Me's would arrive to deal with them. Quckly he considered his chances: His fuel was low, down to 20 mins at cruise speed, but he was above his own base. Whatever would happen, he would not be taken prisoner.

The MT-222 still had more speed than the enemy, and she was able to out-climb the La-5's. Only now, at 6500 m, Juutilainen put on his oxygen mask, but he could only bite the rib to hold it on his face. The result was that the humidity of his breathing escaped, condensed and began to frost the cockpit canopy matt white. Meanwhile Comrade Medvetjev called for reinforcements.

The Soviet pilots knew their job. One of them was always behind the Me, and if the Finnish pilot turned to attack, another La would be in a position to shoot. Juutilainen kept dodging, soaking wet of sweat despite the cold air.

As the dogfight had climbed to 8700 m, one more La-5 arrived to the scene, shooting at an hopelessy long range. Juutilainen saw her tracers, turned and dived under the new enemy, then pulled a tight climbing curve. He scraped frantically a peephole in the frost covering the cockpit canopy to see the enemy, now only his windshield was clear.

Juutilainen had a hard time in keeping all his five enemies in sight, but he saw snow swirling about 9 km below: some Me's were just taking off. It would take them ten minutes to climb to his altitude... Now he was told that the 6th La-5 was about to arrive in the scene. The battle had lasted almost 15 minutes now.

He dodged a La-5 attacking at a high speed from above, pushing under her nose, then he dodged another and had a third nearly in his gunsight !

At the same moment his engine coughed and stopped. He was out of fuel. Tracers flew past - one of the enemies was shooting at the "glider".

With is remaining speed Juutilainen dodged and pushed the Me in vertical dive. It was the only thing to do. He hoped that the enemy would not follow him if he exceeded the 950kmh limit - neither the Me nor the La were designed to withstand higher speed. He let the MT-222 fall vertically for 6500 m. The pilot's ears were buzzing like telephone wires, the speed was over 1000 kmh at 2000m altitude. The Me flew rock-steady.

He pulled the stick, which was nearly immobile and used the trim wheel. The Me returned to level flight at the altitude of 150 m, the speed was 900 kmh. No enemies were in sight. The pilot pulled the stick and converted his speed to altitude, then proceeded to make a "normal" landing without power.

The Me had not been damaged, neither in the battle nor in the dive. The enemy retreated before the other Finnish pilots had any chance to engage them.

4. Six-Victory Morning

30 June 1944, Carelian Isthmus, Ihantala Front Section. Finnish Army was fighting a heavy defensive battle against attacking Red Army. The 1st Flight of Fighter Squadron 34 (eight Me 109 G6 led by Maj. Luukkanen) arrived over the battlefield and met an equal number of Soviet P-39 Airacobras. The fighters engaged each other at 10.15 hrs and the Soviet AA stopped firing as a "furball" developed at 3000 m.

Flight Master "Illu" Juutilainen's MT-457 slipped behind a pair of P-39's, which immediately tried to escape by a steep dive. Juutilainen followed and fired in dive at the enemy leader. The taill control surfaces of the P-39 were ripped off and almost hit the Me. The P-39 crashed in the marketplace of Viipuri. The wingman tried to escape towards his base with the MT-457 in hot pursuit. As the Soviet pilot saw that he was in the shooting range of the gray Me behind his tail, he tried to make a tight turn. But Juutilainen's very first salvo turned the enemy plane into a flaming torch which crashed at Sainio.

Juutilainen took altitude and watched how his wingman Sgt. Frantila shot down another P-39, then he saw in the eastern sky something like a black cloud. It was not a cloud but an enemy formation of 100 Pe-2 bombers escorted by at least 100 La-5 and Yak-9. Juutilainen sent a radio message to the combat control center and asked for reinforcements, promising ample targets for everyone.

Five Me's regrouped and began to climb. At 6000 m they were attacked by Yak-9s which prevented them from getting at the bombers. Soviet aircraft could be seen in great numbers in every altitude.

Juutilainen and Frantila engaged the nearest 2 Yaks. The enemies turned toward the Me's, then dived. The Finnish pilots followed 50 m behind the enemy tails. They dived at a speed of 800 kmh, consequently Juutilainen did not fire for fear of colliding with eventual debris. As the Yaks began to pull out of the dive, exposing the vulnerable fuel tank, engine and cockpit, was the ideal moment to shoot. Juutilainen fired at the leader. The Yak-9 took hits and under the strain of the G force her right wing broke off. The enemy dived in a wild spin and crashed at Juustila. His wingman escaped.

The two Me's were climbing to rejoin the battle as a burning Yak passed them in her last dive, then they were attacked by four Yak-9. Due to their lower speed the Me pilots easily manouvered themselves behind the enemy. Again the enemy tried to break off by diving, and the same thing happened as some minutes before. Juutilainen fired at his target as it was pulling out of dive, this time the Yak caught fire before crashing near the previous victim.

Again the MT-457 climbed, this time alone. The Soviet bombers had released their loads at the Finnish positions, nothing could be done about it anymore. The air battle was over for now, but the pilots of the 1st flight saw 12 FAF Ju-88 bombers arrive, escorted by a Messerschmitt flight. The bombers penetrated the AA fire and dive-bombed the Red Army troop and material concentration with 1000 and 500 kg bombs. No Soviet fighters were there to stop the Junkerses, which retreated unpunished. This raid also illustrated the difference of the resources of the two adversaries... But the Soviet Air Force was not able to control the airspace totally.

The smoke and dust of the dual bombardment was still hanging in the air as another hundred -plane Soviet formation arrived over the battlefield. This time the enemies were Pe-2's and IL-2m's escorted by La-5's.

Juutilainen was flying at 5000 m as he saw 5 Pe-2 below. He dived at them, but a La-5 approached him at high speed . firing wildly. Juutilainen pulled a steep climbing curve, the enemy fighter swished past and disappeared. The bombers had escaped, but there was now an escadrille of 9 IL-2M below, busy strafing the Juustila-Tali road with guns and rockets.

Juutilainen attacked the enemy from side and fired at the nearest Il-2 , hitting the cockpit area. The Stormovik crashed in the forest. Again a La-5 attacked the Me. The Finnish pilot evaded the enemy fire by pulling into a tight climbing left-hand turn, well knowing that his MT-457 would out-climb the La-5. The enemy fighter followed, trying to get enough deflection to hit the Me. But the best the Soviet pilot could achieve was to make the nose of his fighter point at the Me. He fired anyway, and saw the Finnish pilot wave his hand. "You missed!"

The two fighters continued climbing, the Me gaining steadily. About four minutes later at 4000 m Juutilainen found himself 100m above the La-5. He half-rolled, flying upside down above the La-5. The Soviet pilot panicked and turned his fighter to a vertical dive to retreat. The Me followed less than 100m behind. After diving 2000 m the enemy pulled up so hard that Juutilainen did not get any chance to aim, then he blacked out. As he regained vision, he found his fighter in a vertical climb behind the La-5 which immediately half-rolled and dived again.

This manouver was repeated several times. Finally Juutilainen took a risk and at the final phase of a pull-up nearly stalled his fighter to shoot at the La-5. His 20mm shells must have hit the enemy fuel tank, because the Soviet fighter dived in flames, trailing black smoke, soon crashing on the coastline N of Viipuri.

The low fuel warning light of the MT-457 was blinking. Juutilainen again took the initiative and called the other pilots of the flight reminding them of the impending fuel shortage. Fortunately seven Me's of the Squadron 24 led by Lt. Karhila just arrived, enabling the 1st flight to disengage the enemy. It was about 11.00 hours.

It was only now that Juutilainen realised he had gained six victories. He landed at Taipalsaari with empty fuel tank and ammunition magazine. He had spent in average about 22 pcs of 20mm shells at each of his victims. He could prove each kill.

In this battle the Finnish pilots scored 17 victories without losses. (Maj.Luukkanen shot down one P-39 and one La-5, so he was busy and not neglecting his duties.)

5. Good shots

31st August 1943. Three Me's of the 1st Flight of Squadron 34 had been alerted to Koivisto to support the Brewsters of Squadron 24 in an air battle. By the time Lt. Pekuri, Ft.Mstr. Juutilainen and Sr.Sgt. Lehto arrived on the scene, the battle was over. Only oil slicks were seen on the surface of the Gulf of Finland.

The enemy sent two speedboats to search for survivors. Juutilainen suggested that they should take altitude and check whether the boats had any air cover. The Me's turned South and began to climb.

Indeed, at 4500 m the Finnish pilots spotted two La-5 below. Pekuri and Lehto attacked, Juutilainen covered them. But Lehto hesitated a second before diving. Pekuri bounced the enemy leader and shot up his engine, then pulled up. Now the enemy wingman got behind his tail. Juutilainen had dived immediately having realised the situation, but due to his high speed he could not shoot the La-5 threatening Pekuri, 50 m behind his tail and gaining. "Illu" pulled a tight curve to decelerate, then approached the enemy again. The Soviet pilot saw the threatening-looking "Messer" as she was 100 m away. Immediately the La-5 pulled up and rolled into a steep dive, in a very quick manouver.

Juutilainen fired a brief burst "off the hip" at the very same moment. The first tracer passed ahead of the spinner of the La-5 but the rest of the projectiles were hits. The enemy continued his dive and crashed in the sea. Pekuri's victim had belly landed in the sea, and the Finnish pilots saw how one of the speedboats picked up the pilot.

Back in the base the armourers found six pieces 20mm cases and 23 pieces 7,9mm cases in the spent case container of the MT-207. It was not worthwhile to reload the magazines...

4th November 1943. Three Me's intercepted a formation of three IL-2m escorted by five La-5 on a Southeastern course over the Gulf of Finland between Seiskari Island and Sepeleva Lighthouse. Juutilainen told the other pilots - Lt. Valli and Sr.Sgt. Lonnfors - to attack the Stormoviks while he would tie the escort fighters.

As Juutilainen approached in climb the five enemy fighters, they retreated by a steep dive. He looked down - the two Finnish pilots had not attacked. They wanted to see whether "Illu" would need help against the La-5's. Illu dived after the Stormoviks, passing his friends in a high speed. The enemy was about to get within the cover of the Soviet AA guns.

Juutilainen approached the three Il-2 from the side at a speed of 600 kmh, which was too much for accurate shooting. He passed them, then pulled a 180 degree turn at wavetops and then began to close in for a firing run. The Finnish pilot approached his targets at a 90 degree angle. He aimed at the wing plane, the range was less than 100m. He also had to bank hard to keep the enemy in his gunsight, and as he pulled the stick for deflection, the engine of his fighter blocked his line of sight to the target completely. Yet he fired.

Valli and Lonnfors saw how the Il-2 dived and crashed on the shoreline, catching fire. With the target out of sight, " Illu" had estimated correctly the deflection and the moment of shooting - the Me109G did not have a gyroscopic gunsight. Moreover, he had hit the vulnerable spot of the IL-2M , which was two square meters in size seen from above. He had spent 10 pcs of his 20mm ammunition.


The Fokker D.XXI fighter of 3./LLv 24, flown by Sgt. Juutilainen in March of 1940.

[bobbysocks]

György Debrődy - The Survivor. (Hungary)

He was born on 1st January, 1921 in Lajoskomárom. Since his young age he was a keen boyscout and he was very interested in flying. After his high school graduation in 1939 he continued his studies at the Hungarian Military Flying Academy in Kassa, and graduated as a 2nd Lt on 18th June, 1942. After his graduation Debrődy was relocated to the 5/I Fighter Group’s 5/2. Fighter Squadron and in December he went to the Eastern Front. At first he flew fighter-bomber missions, and didn’t meet Soviet planes, but this situation changed the next summer: during the battle of Kursk he claimed 6 victories and became ace.

On 25th September,1943 he had a dangerous affair. In that morning he was downed by a Soviet Yak-9 15 km behind the enemy lines. Debrődy had to make an emergency landing near a Soviet AA battery. After an adventurous escape, the next day he dissolved the River Dniepr and achieved the German lines.

On 1st February, 1944 his swarm had a fierce dogfight against 5 GvIAP’s La-5’s, led by Witalii Popkov over the Korssun kettle. One La-5 hit his plane, and the Messer’s engine failed. Debrődy had to make his second belly-landing behind the enemy lines! His best friend, 2nd Lt. Miklós Kenyeres with 19 air victories, downed Debrődy’s attacker, and landed near the dead Messer on the snowy and icy unknown field. Some Soviet soldiers were running towards the Messers, but Kenyeres managed to take off with some PPS machine-pistol hits in his plane. Unfortunately, two days later the Soviet AA fire downed Kenyeres’ plane behind the enemy lines and this brave pilot had to bail out over a forest. Debrődy was desperately circling around his parachute, but he was not able to help his friend, Kenyeres taken POW.

From the 3th of April, 1944 the American 15th AAF attacked Hungary, and the Hungarian military high command ordered home some veteran fighter pilots, including György Debrődy and László Molnár. At tis time Debrődy had 173 combat missions and claimed 18 confirmed air victories on the Eastern Front. 2nd Lt György Debrődy was relocated to the Hungarian 101/3. “Puma” Squadron, based in Veszprém.

His first fight against the Americans was on 14th June 1944. On that day the Hungarian 101th “Puma” Group attacked the 94th Squadron of the 14th FG. The Hungarian fighters downed 5 P-38’s and damaged two of them seriously, and the others minorly while they lost two planes and a pilot, 2nd Lt. Gyula Király, was killed. In this fierce dogfight Debrődy downed 1st Lt Louis Benne’s P-38J (Wr. Nr: 42-104229). The American pilot, who was an ace with 5 kills, got wounded and had to bail out. Benne was taken POW, his plane crashed near Dudar. Two days later Debrődy claimed another P-38J: his victim was 2nd Lt George F. Loughmiller. The American’s plane (Wr.Nr:43-28665) crashed near Kapoly, the pilot was killed. On 2nd July, 1944 18 Hungarian and approx. 80 German fighters attacked the American planes over Budapest. After this fight Debrődy claimed a P-51D over Pilisvörösvár. It was 1st Lt George Stanford, the Assistant Squadron Operations Officer of the 335th FS of 4th FG with 4 air victories. The American pilot taken POW.

Five days later he downed a B-17G (2nd BG, 20BS, W. Nr. 42-97351) near Megyercs, assisted by Ensign András Huszár. Later he flew some unsuccesful sorties and on 27th July, 1944 he downed a B-24 near Mór. This Liberator was one of the 455th BG’s lost planes.

Later the Hungarian fighters reserved their forces against the Red Army, because the Soviet forces appeared near the Hungarian border. On 1st November Debrődy was promoted to 1st Lt. Three days later his Squadron leader, Captain József Bejczy (5 confirmed kills) was killed by Soviet AA fire, and Debrődy was promoted to the new Squadron leader. On the next day, on 5th November, 1944 the last big “Puma” grouped sortie against the 15th AF took place. During this combat mission Debrődy claimed one B-24 (451st BG) shot down.

On 16th November, 1944 he took off his last combat mission as a squadron commander. The 101/3. Squadron attacked SE of Jászberény some La-5’s of the 5th Vozdushnaja Armija (5th Soviet Air Army) and Debrődy downed one Lavochkin. Later he made a frontal attack against a Soviet Yak-9, north of Nagykáta. His series hit the Soviet plane and theYak exploded, but meanwhile some of the Yak’s bullet hit Debrődy’s Messer. The Hungarian pilot get a serious wound: one 20 mm shell punched his belly near his spine, but despite of his terrible wound this tough guy made a successful emergency landing near Hatvan and the doctors rescued his life, but it was his last, 203rd combat mission. Later he was awarded with the Tiszti Arany Vitézségi Érem (Officers’ Gold Medal For Bravery), the highest Hungarian decoration. After the war he emigrated to Spain with his friend, Miklós Kenyeres, and later to Canada, and to the USA. In 1967 the doctors operated him again and eliminated from his body, near his spine a Soviet 12,7 mm bullet – it was a “souvenir” from his last combat.

He passed away on 2rd February, 1982 in Cortland, USA.

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Clive "Killer" Caldwell - Stuka Party

Clive Robertson Caldwell was born in Lewisham, Sydney on the 28th of July, 1911. Pre war he trained for his civil pilot's licence whilst a member of the Royal Aero Club. He joined the RAAF at the beginning of the war in 1939 and was commissioned as a Pilot Officer in 1940. As he was destined to become an instructor after completing his training, he resigned and re-applied as an air-crew trainee. His commission was reinstated in January 1941, and he was sent to the Middle East where he took up flying duties in Tomahawks with 250 Squadron RAF. Following a short period of operations in Syria and Cyprus, Caldwell and the squadron were relocated to the Western Desert. It was in this theatre that he achieved great success during intensive operations.

By mid-1941, Caldwell had flown about 40 operational sorties, but had only one confirmed kill - a Bf 109. He was perplexed by the fact that he had trouble scoring hits on enemy aircraft. Whilst returning to base one day, he noted his squadron's aircraft casting shadows on the desert below. He fired a burst of his guns and noted the fall of shot relative to his shadow. He realised this method allowed for the assessment of required deflection to hit moving targets. Further experimentation lead him to acquire the knowledge to assess deflection needed for a range of speeds. Within a couple of weeks he had attained four further kills and a half share. Caldwell's method of "shadow shooting" became a standard method of gunnery practice in the Middle East.

On 29 August 1941 Clive Caldwell was attacked by two Bf 109s North-West of Sidi Barrani. One of his attackers was the Bf 109 E-7 "black 8" of 2./JG 27 piloted by one of Germany's top aces, Leutnant Werner Schroer who was credited with 114 Allied planes in only 197 combat missions. Caldwell's P-40 "Tomahawk" of 250 Squadron was riddled with more than 100 rounds of 7.9 mm slugs, plus five 20 mm cannon strikes which punctured a tyre and rendered the flaps inoperative. In the first attack Caldwell suffered bullet wounds to the back, left shoulder, and leg. In the next pass one shot slammed through the canopy, causing splinters which wounded him with perspex in the face and shrapnel in the neck. Two cannon shells also punched their way through the rear fuselage just behind him and the starboard wing was badly damaged. Despite damage to both himself and the aircraft, Caldwell, feeling, as he remembers, "quite hostile" turned on his attackers and sent down one of the Bf 109s in flames. The pilot of the second Messerschmitt, the renowned Leutnant Schroer, shocked by this turn of events, evidently made off in some haste. Caldwell's engine had caught fire, however he managed to extinguish the flames with a violent slip. He then nursed his flying wreck back to base at Sidi Haneish.

Caldwell's most successful day was the 5th of December 1941 when he shot down five Ju 87s in a single engagement during operation "Crusader". Here is the combat report of that action: "I received radio warning that a large enemy formation was approaching from the North-West. No. 250 Squadron went into line astern behind me and as No. 112 Squadron engaged the escorting enemy fighters we attacked the JUs from the rear quarter. At 300 yards I opened fire with all my guns at the leader of one of the rear sections of three, allowing too little deflection, and hit No. 2 and No. 3, one of which burst into flames immediately, the other going down smoking and went into flames after losing about 1000 feet. I then attacked the leader of the rear section...from below and behind, opening fire with all guns at very close range. The enemy aircraft turned over and dived steeply...opened fire [at another Ju 87] again at close range, the enemy caught fire...and crashed in flames. I was able to pull up under the belly of one of the rear, holding the burst until very close range. The enemy...caught fire and dived into the ground." Due to his aggressiveness, exceptional combat skills, and determination to strafe ground targets, Caldwell soon acquired the nickname "Killer" which he apparently was not particularly proud of. The name however stuck and was commonly used in referring to Caldwell. In opinion of Wing Commander R.H. "Bobby" Gibbes (he battled in 3 Sqdn RAAF in North Africa and in the SW Pacific under Caldwell's command): "Clive Caldwell was given the name "Killer" (a name which was not of his choosing or liking) due to his habit of shooting up any enemy vehicle which he saw below when returning from a sortie. Invariably he landed back at his base with almost no ammunition left."

Caldwell was promoted to flight commander in November 1941 and received the DFC and Bar simultaneously on December 26 by which time he had 17 victories. He was promoted to Squadron Leader in January 1942 and took command of 112 Squadron RAF flying Kittyhawks. It was due to his leadership, confidence and daring, his work with a contingent of Polish pilots attached to 112 Squadron, and continued success with this squadron that he received the Polish Cross of Valour (Krzyz Walecznych).

In contrast with the great successes of Skalski's Circus , Polish pilots' endeavours with 112 Squadron weren't as fruitful. A group of 12 Polish ferry-transport pilots volunteered for RAF service on 29 August 1941 and after training they joined "Shark" squadron in February 1942. On 14 February, 1942 the patrolling 112 Sqn RAF and 3 Sqn RAAF encountered a formation of 32 enemy aircraft and Sec.Ltn. Dula downed an MC 200. In combat with 6 Bf 109 fighters from I/JG 27 on 21 February 1942 three "Kittyhawks" of 112 Sqn were downed, two of them piloted by Polish pilots: Sgt. Derma and Ltn. Jander. On 13 March 1942 pilots P/O Bartle (English) and Sgt. Rozanski (Polish) left a formation of 12 "Sharks" in the Tobruk area and they were caught by surprise and attacked by Oberfeldtwebel Otto Schulz (4./JG 27, MIA on 17 June 1942, 42 victories). Both were downed, but Rozanski luckily escaped his crashed, burning aircraft. On the following day Sgt. Urbanczyk together with S/L Caldwell got one Bf 109. On 15 March 1942 112 Squadron was moved from the front line to Sidi Haneish for replacements. Polish pilots didn't return to duty in this unit from 16 April 1942.

Whilst with 112 Squadron, the Australian government asked that he be released to return to Australia to command a Wing in the defence of Australia. This Wing was to consist of 3 Squadrons of "Spitfires", and Caldwell spent some time with the Kenley Wing before returning home to acquaint himself with the new aircraft. The Japanese were threatening Northern Australia, and several Australian towns were regularly being bombed. Caldwell left the Middle East with nineteen individual and three shared confirmed enemy kills, six probables, and fifteen damaged.

On his departure from the Middle East, the Marshall of the RAF Lord Tedder wrote of Caldwell: 'An excellent leader - and a first class shot.'

On taking up his command of No. 1 Fighter Wing based in Darwin, Caldwell again showed his outstanding fighting abilities and claimed a further eight Japanese aircraft by August 1943. Caldwell's tally was twenty-eight and a half by the time he left the Wing in August and for this feat he received a DSO to add to his DFC and Bar and Polish Cross of Valour.

Caldwell returned to operations in April 1944 (after a period commanding an OTU) commanding 80 Wing out of Darwin and Morotai. By this time opposition in the air from the Japanese had waned, and the role of the RAAF in the South-West Pacific had been relegated to a supporting role. 80 Wing was confined to strafing and bombing ground targets which Caldwell and his pilots found wasteful and frustrating. These targets were isolated from the main Japanese forces and the pilots resented being risked in tasks whose results were making no contribution towards winning the war. In April 1945, Caldwell and seven other officers tended their resignations in protest (the so-called Morotai mutiny) against the RAAF's role in the latter stages of the war. This action lead to a command crisis in the RAAF where three senior officers including Air Commodore Cobby (WW1 ace) were relieved of their duties. Caldwell finished the war attached to HQ, 1st TAF, RAAF, based in Melbourne. He resigned from the RAAF in 1946 and was a successful businessman until his death on 5th of August, 1994.

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im really trying hard not to duplicate forgive me if i do per chance.

The first aerial combat on the Eastern Front.

Flying an obsolete I-153 biplane in the hazy morning sky over Ukraine on 22 June 1941, Soviet Air Force Lieutenant Rubstov probably claimed the first aerial victory in the war between Germany and the Soviet Union. In connection with the text are shown a few images from the results of the devastating German air raids on Russian airfields on 22 June 1941: MiG-3's, I-16 and Uti-4 (that last two from 122nd IAP, on Lida airfield)
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n the early hours of 22 June 1941, the Soviet Air Force was totally caught by surprise by the Luftwaffe attack against their airbase system. During the first hours, around 1,200 Russian aircraft were destroyed, more than 800 of them on the ground, according to Soviet figures. But despite the surprise attack and the lacking communications, Russian pilots scrambled at several places. At one airfield, a formation of Russian fighters attempted to take off in the midst of a raid. The bombs fell upon the starting planes and they were all left destroyed, in perfect take-off formation, at the end of the runway. At another airfield, Sergei Dolgushin and his comrades ran towards their I-16 fighters. 'At three o´clock, the alarm went off,' he recalled. 'We all ran towards our airplanes. At 4:20, when the Messerschmitts appeared over the air field, I had to take off. While I was taking off, during that first dogfight, I was hit 16 times.' Quite contrary to the general belief, bitter dogfights raged in the skies all along the front during these early morning hours. In general, the Soviet fighter pilots managed surprisingly well on this first day.

At Kurovitsa airbase, the units under command of the Air Force of Kiev Special Military District (VVS KOVO), were alarmed even before the German bombers had reached this target. However, the pilots of the ground-attack regiment 66 ShAP (Shturmovyi Aviapolk) figured it was a training alarm, and came too late - which resulted in 34 of the regiment´s Polikarpov I-153s and I-15bis being bombed to pieces by the Ju 88s of Kampfgeschwader KG 51 'Edelweiss'. As the bombs fell, the fighter pilots of 164 IAP, who had arrived at Kurovitsa airfield in due time, were airborne, climbing after the enemy in their small I-16s.

In general, the Soviet Air Force material was of terribly low technical quality. The main Soviet fighter aircraft, the Polikarpov I-16 monoplane - the plane with the many names: called Ishak ('Jackass') or Jastrebok ('Young Eagle') by the Russian pilots who flew it, and Rata ('Rat') by the Germans who had adopted this from their allies in the Spanish Civil War, the men on the Republican side in the latter conflict named it Mosca ('Fly'), while it was called Abu ('Gadfly') by the Japanese airmen who met this type over China and Khalkhin-Gol - was inferior to the standard Messerschmitt Bf 109 F fighter in all aspects except maneuverability. According to German fighter pilots´ reports, 'the plane easily caught fire if struck from above or from the side'. Regarding the biplane fighter I-15bis, 'a few rounds fired into the sides were often enough to set them on fire'. (However, it is worth noting that the Polikarpov fighters held one important advantage over the Bf 109: their engines were air cooled. Once the Bf 109 was liquid cooled, a hit in the radiator was enough to send a Messerschmitt down to the ground. Frequently, Messerschmitt 109s hit in the radiator force-landed and were only slightly damaged, not appearing in the German loss lists; this isone of the main reasons to the gap between Soviet victory claims and Luftwaffe loss figures.)


Air-to-air radio - a standard equipment in all German aircraft types - was something of a luxury to Russian airmen; only the unit commanders´aircraft were equipped with radioes, and these were very unreliable, which naturally made cooperation in the air difficult and on several occasions enabled German fighters to sneek behind a Soviet formation and shoot down one plane after another, the last one caught by the same surprise as the first one. But notwithstanding their inferior equipment, once in the air, the Red fighter pilots put up a stiff fight. The I-16 Ishaks of 164 IAP were followed by some of the remaining biplanes of 66 ShAP.

'Skilful and aggressive attacks by Russian fighter units', Wolfgang Dierich´s chronicle of KG 51 comments, 'ensured that the struggle for air supremacy was no easy game.' The first attack was made by Lieutenant P. N. Rubstov of 66 ShAP. He sprayed a Ju 88 with machine gun bullets until it finally caught fire and went down and crashed within sight of the Kurovitsa airfield. Thus, Lieutenant Rubstov probably achieved the first aerial victory in the Russo-German war.

The Polikarpov fighters kept pursuing the Junkers bombers on their return flight to the west. In a matter of minutes, one bomber after another was shot down. The Germans left a trail of white parachutes and blazing flames in the hazy sky. Out of 28 Ju 88s dispatched by IIIrd Gruppe/KG 51, 7 were shot down during this first mission - five of them from the 9th Staffel.


In the middle of all this, the German fighter escort appeared. The fast Messerschmitt 109s came shooting down from above with hammering cannons and machine guns. The first I-16 was shot down by Oberleutnant Robert Oljenik of 1st Staffel, Jagdgeschwader JG 3. As it buried itself into the ground, Oljenik had achieved his sixth out of totally 41 confirmed victories in World War 2 - and probably the first German aerial kill in this conflict. At 04:30, Feldwebel Ernst Heesen of 2./JG 3 destroyed a second I-16 Ishak / Rata. As it went down, the glow from the raging fires at Kurovitsa airfield, 20 miles further to the east, could still be seen in the darkness. A third I-16 fell victim to Feldwebel Detlev Lüth of 1./JG 3.

Even if compared with the number of sorties flown, the losses sustained by the Luftwaffe on the forst day of the war with the USSR were very heavy: 78 combat aircraft were listed as totall losses, with a further 89 damaged. This in fact was an even higher figure than that of the fateful so-called 'Battle of Britain Day', 15 September 1940, when the Germans lost 61 planes destroyed and 11 damaged.

Of the German aircraft destroyed, 24 were fighters, 35 bombers, 7 Zerstörern (Messerschmitt Bf 110), 2 Stukas and 10 of miscellaneous types. Added to these losses were the Rumanian aircraft shot down on this day: 4 Bristol Blenheims, 2 PZL P-37 Los, 2 Savoia-Marchetti S.M. 79B, 1 Potez 633, 1 IAR 37 and 1 IAR 39.

The German bomber pilot Wolfgang Dierich later wrote of the sentiments among the Luftwaffe fliers that evening: 'At midnight, the men went to bed, half-dead of fatigue. Their last thoughts before they fell a sleep were: "What may have happened to our missing comrades? Are they still alive? What will the next day bring us? How will this all end?"'

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Douglas Bader - "personification of RAF heroism during the Second World War."

Few men become legends in their lifetime. Douglas Bader was one of these men. Fighter ace, international sportsman, constant rule-breaker and incorrigible escaper, he spread exasperation and irritation wherever he went. Yet his courage and determination in the face of crippling injuries continue to inspire people all over the world to this day.

Douglas Robert Steuart Bader was born on February 10, 1910, in London, England, son of Frederick Roberts Bader and Jessie Bader. From the start, his life followed no placid pattern. When Douglas was a few months old, his family returned to India, where his father worked as a civil engineer. Young Douglas was left behind because his family thought him too young for India's harsh climate. He did not rejoin them until he was 2 years old, beginning a long life as a loner. The Bader family returned to England in 1913. The following year, when World War I began, Frederick Bader went with the British army into France. It was the last time Douglas saw his father, who died in France of complications from a shrapnel wound in 1922 and was buried near the town of St. Omer. Twenty-one years later, his son would be held prisoner in a hospital not far from where his father was buried. Jessie Bader later married a mild Yorkshire clergyman, Reverend William Hobbs. Throughout his early years, Douglas showed a fierce spirit of independence and nonconformity. He excelled in sports such as rugby football; when he was captain of the rugby team, his natural leadership abilities became apparent.

In 1923, Douglas stayed with his aunt Hazel Bader and her husband, Flight Lieutenant Cyril Burge, who at the time was adjutant at the Royal Air Force (RAF) college in Cranwell. That's when he first became interested in airplanes. In 1927, Douglas decided he wanted to fly in the RAF, despite disapproval of his family. In the summer of 1928 he had won his cadetship. Bader reported to Cranwell in September 1928, and his flight training went satisfactorily. Not all of his flying was regulation and his superiors did not like his rebellious nature. Halfway through the two-year course, when the cadets took progress exams, Bader came out 18th out of 21 cadets. Cranwell's commandant, Air Vice Marshal Halahan , warned him: "You're young, I can understand your trouble, but the air force won't go on understanding. They want men here, not school boys." Bader emerged from Halahan's tirade considerably shaken, knowing the commandant was right. He studied harder, and his flying became better than ever. Bader missed being awarded the sword of honor, which was given to the top graduating cadet, but he came in a close second.

After graduating from Cranwell in 1930, Bader was commissioned a pilot officer and posted to No. 23 Squadron at Kenley Airfield, flying tubby Gloster Gamecock biplane fighters. Soon afterward, 23 Squadron was reequipped with Bristol Bulldog fighters. The Bulldogs were faster than the Gamecocks but heavier and liable to loose height rapidly in low-altitude maneuvers.

On Monday, December 14, 1931, Douglas Bader flew from Kenley to Woodley airfield along with two other pilots from his squadron. In the Woodley clubhouse a young pilot was discussing acrobatics with Bader, the Hendon star, and suggested that he give a demonstration of low flying. Bader refused, citing his inexperience flying acrobatics in a Bulldog. The matter was dropped until Bader and the other pilots were leaving. Someone dared him to do it. In some agitation Bader took off, then turned back toward the field. Flying low and fast across the field, Bader began a slow roll, but in his inexperience with the Bulldog he flew too low. The Bulldog's left wing struck the ground, and the plane cartwheeled quickly into a tangle of wreckage. Both of Bader's legs were crushed, his left leg under the seat, his right tom by the rudder pedal. Bader was pulled from the Bulldog's wreckage by shocked onlookers and taken immediately to the Royal Berkshire Hospital, where he was placed in the care of Dr. Leonard Joyce, one of England's best surgeons. Joyce immediately amputated Bader's right leg above the smashed knee and, several days later, the left leg six inches below the knee. After his second amputation, Bader's condition worsened. None of the doctors expected the 21-year-old pilot to survive. But Bader had great will to live.

After a long, painful recovery, Bader was transferred to the RAF Hospital in Uxbridge in 1932. While there, he became acquainted with the Dessoutter brothers. Marcel Dessoutter had been an aircraft designer until he, too, lost a leg in an air crash. Afterward he started a firm that made artificial legs of light metal alloys like aluminum. Douglas Bader was the first customer to require two artificial legs. Despite the physical impediment, Bader began to remake his life both physically and mentally. After several months of agonizing and determined effort, Bader learned to walk on both "tin" legs. He refused to use a walking stick, saying, "I'm going to start the way I mean to go on." He soon began driving a car again, with the pedals modified to accommodate his tin legs. Bader's thoughts then returned to flying. After a weekend spent with the Under-secretary of State for Air, Sir Phillip Sasson, in June 1932, Bader's desire to fly reached fever pitch. His host, who lived near Lympe airfield, arranged a flight for him in an Avro 504 trainer. Bader's handling of the Avro left nothing to be desired. Later, an RAF medical board found him fit for restricted flying duties. Soon afterward, in April 1933, Bader was informed by the air force that he was to be retired on grounds of ill health, which left him feeling shocked and numb. Within weeks, Bader left the RAF on a total disability pension.

For six years following his retirement from the RAF, Bader worked at a desk job with the Asiatic (now Shell) Petroleum com- pany. His future, at least at the beginning, looked bleak, but he was lucky in his marriage to Thelma Edwards, whom he met while at Uxbridge when she was working as a waitress at a pub called the Pantiles. They married in 1935, and she was devoted to him for 37 years. Once asked how he survived, Bader replied, "I wouldn't have stuck it out without Thelma."

Despite his new life, however, Bader longed to fly again. In September 1939, after the start of World War II, Bader again applied to the RAF for flight duties and was helped in his quest by an old squadron friend, Geoffrey Stephenson, who was posted to the Air Ministry. He attended a selection board headed by his old Cranwell commanding officer, Air Vice Marshal Halahan, who suggested to "give him A1B (flying duties) category and leave it to the Central Flying School to assess his flying abilities." Bader walked out of the Air Ministry feeling that he was picking up life again from the moment he had crashed. Bader's acceptance was conditional on his passing a flying test at the RAF's Central Flying School (CFS) in Upavon.

On November 27, 1939, eight years after his accident, Douglas Bader flew solo again at the controls of Avro Tudor K-3242. Once airborne, he could not resist the temptation to turn the Tudor biplane upside down at 600 feet inside the circuit area. Bader soon moved up into the Fairey Battle, a single-engine, two- seater day bomber, then to the Miles Master, the last step an RAF pilot took before going on to Supermarine Spitfires and Hawker Hurricanes. Two weeks after flying the Master, Bader was delighted to get his chance inside the cockpit of a Hurricane. From the start he felt a part of the Hurricane, which was the most responsive aircraft he had yet flown; after 20 minutes in the air, he made a smooth landing. In February 1940, Bader joined No. 19 Squadron at Duxford. At age 29 he was older than most of the other pilots in the squadron. Two months later he was appointed flight commander in 222 Squadron, another Duxford-based unit, reequipping from Blenheim bombers to Spitfires. Before he took up the appointment, Bader carelessly took off with his section with his Spitfire's propeller set to coarse pitch (used for low rpm cruise) instead of fine pitch that gave high rpm for takeoff power, and he crashed. Bader was uninjured, except for bent legs and a badly dented ego. Shocked by his stupidity, Bader freely admitted his mistake to 12 Group's commander, Air Vice Marshal Trafford Leigh Mallory, who saw it as a one-time mistake and did not cancel Bader's appointment to 222 Squadron as flight commander, or his promotion to flight lieutenant. Bader immediately began training his 222 flight pilots in his own style of fighting, quick to see that the standard Fighter Command tactics were a waste of time. Afterward came hours of dogfighting practice and convoy patrols. Yet nothing happened at Duxford for 222 Squadron until June 1940. The squadron was sent, along with other RAF squadrons, to cover the British and French evacuation from Dunkirk. On one mission over Dunkirk, while leading his flight after some fleeing Messerschmitt Me-110s, Bader sighted four Me-109s approaching his flight. Bader went after the German fighters. "A 109 shot up in front; his thumb jabbed the firing button and the guns in the wings squirted with a shocking noise," wrote Brickhill, Bader's biographer. The 109 burst into flames and spun into the ground - Bader's first kill.

In June 1940, Bader was given command of 242 Squadron. A Canadian unit, the only one in the RAF at the time, 242 had been badly mauled in France, and its morale was low. When Bader first arrived at the squadron's headquarters at Coltishall airfield, most of the squadron's pilots were skeptical of their new legless squadron leader, who, they thought, would lead them from his desk. Bader quickly dispelled the idea by taking one of 242's Hurricane fighters and performing acrobatics over Coltishall for a half hour, deeply impressing 242's pilots. Bader quickly transformed 242 into a tight, tough squadron through his courage, leadership and uncompromising attitude toward his pilots, ground crews and the RAF high command, with whom he soon had a major brush. After taking charge of 242 Squadron, Bader soon discovered that the unit did not have the spare parts or tools to keep its 18 Hurricane fighters operational. After trying to sort out the problem through official channels, Bader signaled 12th Group Headquarters: "242 Squadron operational as regards pilots but non-operational as regards equipment." And he refused to announce his squadron as operational until its lack of tools and spares was rectified. Within 24 hours, 242 Squadron had all the tools and spares it needed, and Bader signaled 12th Group: "242 Squadron now fully operational."

The squadron, however, took little part in the early stages of the Battle of Britain, flying only convoy patrols and going after occasional high-flying Dornier bombers. Bader shot down one of these on July 11 during a rainstorm that prevented him from getting a section of fighters off the ground. Bader took off alone in a Hurricane, found the Dornier despite the bad weather, and attacked it. He killed its tail gunner and saw it disappear into a cloud. Certain it had gotten away, Bader returned to base. Five minutes after he landed, Bader was informed that a ground observer had seen the Dornier crash into the sea. On August 30, 242 Squadron intercepted a group of 30 German bombers and fighters attacking North Weald airfield. Bader shot down an Me-110, and the rest of his squadron claimed 11 kills. It was a respectable total, but Bader believed that if they had had three or more squadrons attacking the huge German formation, all of the attacking planes would have been shot down. Thus, the "Big Wing" concept was born. Supported by Leigh Mallory, Bader was convinced that launching a large number of fighter squadrons against the Luftwaffe armadas was essential for the RAF's success in the battle. Leigh Mallory decided to try Bader's wing in action. He grouped 242 with two other fighter squadrons - 19 Squadron and the Czech 310 Squadron - at Duxford.

Bader led the wing into action for the first time on September 7, 1940, against a large German formation heading for London. "We had been greatly looking forward to our first formation of 36 fighters going into action together," Bader wrote years later, "but we were unlucky." Having been scrambled late, the wing was underneath the bombers and their fighter escorts when they intercepted them north of the Thames. All 242 and 310 could do was attack as best they could while 19 Squadron's Spitfires tried to hold off the attacking Me-109s. The wing managed to destroy 11 aircraft, with only two Hurricanes shot down. Bader himself got a cockpit full of bullets and the right aileron shot off his Hurricane. After several sorties with three squadrons, two more - the Polish 302 Hurricane Squadron and Auxiliary 601 Spitfire Squadron - were added to the so-called Duxford Wing, giving it five squadrons and 60 fighters. "We thus had three Hurricane Squadrons which flew together at the lower level (20,000 feet if we were called in time) with the Spitfires protecting us 5,000 feet higher," Bader said. "It worked like a charm once or twice, and the arrival of this large formation in support of hard-pressed 11 Group squadrons was highly satisfactory." The tactic really paid off on September 15, 1940, when Bader's Duxford Wing helped 11 Group to break up a massed Luftwaffe attack on London.

When the Battle of Britain ended, Bader was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC) and Distinguished Service Order (DSO) for gallantry and leadership of the highest order and became commander of the Duxford Wing, which was later credited with destroying 152 German aircraft with the loss of 30 pilots. The Big Wing's effectiveness became controversial - but not Douglas Bader's leadership of it. In March 1941, Bader, now a wing commander, left 242 Squadron and took over the "Tangmere Wing." Consisting of three Spitfire Squadrons - 145, 610 and 616 - plus a Beaufighter squadron, the wing began a series of air attacks against targets in northern France and the Low Countries. While commanding the wing, Bader introduced the so-called "finger four" formation, where the two pairs of fighters flew beside each other, scrapping forever the unwieldy three-aircraft section. Based on the Luftwaffe's Schwarm formation, the finger four later became standard throughout both the British and American air forces. Bader really came into his own commanding the Tangmere Wing. His teamwork with Wing Commander A.G. Woodhall, the ground controller during the wing's raids, was exceptional. Receiving the broad picture from the ground controller, Bader handled his three squadrons with remarkable dexterity, seemingly able to foresee the critical points in an upcoming engagement. He was able to keep track of events around him to a remarkable degree. "Dogsbody" (the call sign for Bader's wing) became an unwelcome and frequent visitor to the other side of the English Channel. Often, coming back across the Channel after a mission, Bader would flip back the canopy of his Spitfire, unclip his oxygen mask and, while holding the stick between his good knee and his tin knee, light up his pipe. Pilots flying alongside Spitfire DB would sheer off, half in jest and half in earnest, in case Bader's plane blew up. For his brilliant and inspiring leadership of the Tangmere Wing - which he christened "The Bee Line Bus Service. The prompt and regular service. Return tickets only" - Bader was awarded a bar to his DSO.

Bader seemed invincible - but he was not. While leading his wing over France on August 9, 1941, he suffered a mid-air collision with a Messerschmitt Me-109 and captured by the Germans. He would spend most of the war in captivity, including time at the castle-prison Colditz for his escape attempts. Finally, in the spring of 1945, the American First Army took Colditz, liberating its prisoners, including Bader. Once released, he rushed to Paris demanding a Spitfire for one last fling before the war ended. Permission was refused; Bader's personal tally would stand at 22.5 German aircraft destroyed. Bader returned to England and took command of the Fighter Leader School at Tangmere, where he was promoted to group captain. Later that year he commanded the Essex sector of 11th Group at North Weald, and on September 15, he personally led the victory flypast of 300 RAF planes over London. The RAF offered him the rank and seniority he would have enjoyed if he had not been shot down, but Bader felt the peacetime air force would be anticlimactic after his wartime experiences. Shell Oil Company offered him a job in its aviation department, with his own airplane. Bader thought about it for four months, then resigned from the Royal Air Force for the last time.

After leaving the RAF in late February 1946, Bader flew all over the world, often with Thelma, touring Europe, Africa and America. He spent many hours visiting veterans hospitals. In 1976 Bader was knighted by Queen Elizabeth for his services to amputees, "so many of whom he had helped and inspired by his example and character." After Thelma's death, he married Joan Murray, who shared his interest in public work for the disabled. His workload would have been exhausting for anyone, let alone a legless man with a worsening heart condition, but iron willpower drove him on until August 1982, when he suffered a mild heart attack after a golf tournament in Ayrshire.

Three weeks later, on September 5, 1982, after serving as guest speaker at a London Guildhall dinner honoring the 90th birthday of the Marshal of the Royal Air Force, Sir Arthur "Bomber" Harris, Douglas Bader died of a heart attack. He was 72 years old. "He became a legend at first in the personification of RAF heroism during the Second World War," the London Times obituary said.

[bobbysocks]

Michał Cwynar - from the Pilots Diary. (Poland)

My flying adventure started in 1934 during elementary (eliminating) gliding course at Ustjanowa in the Carpathian mount.

For a young beginner, a gliding course was quite a dramatic experience. Never having been in the air before, you were catapuled from the top of the mountain with instructions to glide down into the valley, to land anywhere, meadows or cornfields, but at all costs to avoid electric cables and dwellings.

The glider construction, was basically similar to the craft pioneer Otto Lilientahl had flown almost two hundred years before. The glider's tail was anchored to the ground, the nose’s hook attached to two partly elasticated ropes with rings, four labourers to each rope ran down the hill pulling outwards, diagonally, from the direction of the glider's f1ightpath.

At certain point, the instructor released the tail's anchorqge and one was shot out into the air while the labourers, losing momentum, tumbled down the slopes. The experience is one never forgotten- complete silence with only a slight breeze against one's face, one was gliding like seagull. Gliding course was a most effective way to eliminate those who had no ability or zest for flying.

There were some fatalities.

In the Spring 1935, I went to Elementary Flying School at Sadkow-Radom. In the Autumn moved to No 1 Air Force Base at Okecie, Warsaw. In the training squadron, we were flying Potez XV, Potez XXV, Breguet XIX and reconnaisance aeroplane , the Lublin.R.XIII, adapted for blind flying.

In the Spring 1936, I went to the Advanced Flying School at Grudziadz, where we were segregated to become fighter, bobmber or reconnaisance pilots. We were flying dual fighter trainer P.W.S. 26, single seater, first world war fighters , "Moran Saulnier Spad 6l",o~cL wonderful biplane for aerobatics, the Avia, and finall, a Polish fighter, the P.7.

In the Autumn, back in Warsaw, 113 Fighter Squadron, Warsaw Fighter Brigade comprise of 111, 112, 113 and 114 squadrons. 1938. May to December - flying the PFL XIC, as a member of the select fighter unit comprising seven pilots and machines, to a landing ground at Sarny, on the Polish/Soviet border to guard the Polish eastern fortifications (being built). From the high life of Warsaw to the Godforsaken outback.

The Commanding Officer of the group was Wladyslaw Szczesniewski, who became the Commanding Officer of 315 squadron at RAF Northolt, England, in 1941. His deputy from 114 squadron was A. Gabszewicz, who again, later became Commanding Officer of 3~6 Squadron at Northolt.

1939. End of August. Four squadrons of Warsaw Fighter Brigade were dispersed to advance landing ground near the Polish capital.

September 1. I shot down one JU 87 Stuka on the west side of Warsaw. The Junkers 87 were dive bombing our permanent air base at Okecie.

September 4. I engaged a Messerschmitt 110 or rather was attacked by him, from the sun. Tracer bullets from his two cannons passed my starboard side. The way he pulled up, climbing to line up for a second attack, emphasised the frightening disparity of our comparative speeds. Instinctively I decided to stay put and defend myself using the agility of the PZL by turning into his diving path, under him.

As the Me110 began to dive and fire from too far away, again I turned under him and then, as he started to climb, turned, starting to fire at him. I was on the tail of my "gegner" (enemy).

Unfortunately, the increasing distance between us allowed him to pull up again to repeat the attack.

Emboldened that I had a chance, I flew at right angles to his dive and then, again under him and up giving long bursts of machine gun fire.

His port engine started to smoke and he went into a dive towards intermittent clouds in a northerly direction towards the East Prussian border. I started to dive after him, his port engine now belching smoke. Again the disaprity in speed between us was so great he pulled away between the clouds.

Years later, at Northolt, while studying the performance of German machines, I realised why I had survived that encounter and managed to get some hits. The Messerschmitt 110 had good fire power but very poor manoeuvrability. There was no comparison with the British Mosquito or the French Potez 63.

September 10-12. With a German Panzer Division advancing on Warsaw we flew to a landing ground near Mlynow in the south-east of Poland.

September 17. We left Poland and landed at Bucharest airport in Romania. I was interned at a place called Urziceni, north of Bucharest.

Those days everybody in Romania could be bribed and our internment barracks Romanian police chief received a present - a pair of first class riding boots.

With his tacit agreement, every morning about thirty of us internees left by local bus for Romania's capital. To avoid the risk of being discovered with firearms in my possession, shortly before the coach left I went into a nearby hayfield, slipped behind a haystack and pretending to satisfy my physiological needs, pushed an empty Polish pilot's revolver, the "VLS", deep in into the hay.

There was, however, one item I was not going to part with, whatever the risk, my Polish fighter pilot's insignia, wings - original "Knedler's" of Warsaw. A flying Eagle carrying a green wreath in his beak, a symbolic tribute to fallen colleagues.

Then it was back to Bucharest and the Polish Embassy. With false passports - mine as a civilian mechanic - we travelled by train to Romania's Black Sea port of Constancia.

We boarded an overcrowded Greek boat, the Patria, luckily had a calm sea crossing to what was then French Syria and Beirut (now the Lebanon). We were sent to an army barracks with Senegalese soldiers, deloused, and the next day were put on a French boat, the Strasbourg bound for Marseilles.

1939. December. Arrived at Armee de L'Air base at Bron, near Lyon.

1940. January - March. We converted to French fighters, the Caudron 714 C. and the Morane-Saulnier 406.

In April Polish fighters were posted to various French fighter groups in sections of three pilots. Our section - W Baranski, our C/O from 113 squadron Warsaw, his deputy J. Borowski and myself, were posted to 3/6 Grouppe de Chasse station at Le Luc, south of Dranguignan. The Grouppe were flying Morane Saulnier 406's.

Within one week of our arrival at Le Luc, all pilots of this Grouppe, thirty-six of us, were sent by train to Toulouse. At the south aerodrome nearby, hundreds of the latest French fighters, Devoitine 520's, were ready to be collected.

We took off singly and landed on the north side of Tou louse Armee de L'Air base). At the south aerodeome where the Devoitines has been assembled, "Concorde" was to be built three decades later in the Seventies.

The following day we flew back to Le Luc. Within a week or so I had done lots of flying in this wonderful aircraft.

What happened one day, only Kafka could have dreamed up, it was such a missed chances scenario.

3/6 Grouppe was a very friendly, democratic set up. All the pilots were billeted in private homes at Le Luc and our C/U had commandeered the town's best restaurant for our dining. With long, rectangualr tables, the C/O at the top and the pilots, officers and non- commissioned officers mixed around, we indulged in traditional French style two hour lunches and evening meals.

My section leader, Pierre, a reservist more interested in fishing the nearby river than warfare, and I were in "readiness" to take off in the event of an emergency to defend our airfield and the nearby naval base of Toulon.

When on "readiness" duty the section remained at the aerodrome whilst the others climbed into a lorry and travelled the five kilometres to Le Luc for lunch. On this particular occasion, section leader Pierre convinced out group's CO there was no point in him staying on dutry because one Warrant Officer from "A" eskadrille was at that time patrolling in a Devoitine near Toulon.

When reminded that there were over seventy aircraft scattered around the airfield (including the now de-commissioned Morans 406), Pierre shrugged his shoulders and said: "Ca va!" The Commanding Officer told him so.

Meanwhile at a restaurant in Le Luc, we sat around a table. Before the C/O had a chance to stand up and raise a toast to the "Republique" we heard the noise of aircraft, in fact an Italian Fiat CR42 biplane of twelve, lining up in echelon starboard to strafe our base. We ran out into the garden and stood watching in disbelief at what was happening.

There was no point scrambling into our truck to drive back to the base. It was too late.

However, French honour was, to a degree, preserved. As the Italians started the first round of straffing, our W/O Pierre, le Gloan "A”, made a timely return to the base. As he approached the last bi-plane in the Italian formation began to open fire. He came in so fast he almost overshot the Italian and had to "kick" left and right on the Devoitine's rudder to slow down and place himself behind, “line astern”.

Right on the Italian's tail, he first short burst of 20mm cannon and the small bi-plane, presumably mainly a wooden structure, blew up, the pilot bailing out.

One by one was attacked by our W/O P. le Gloan.

He had downed six before the other Italians realised what was happened and scattered, fleeing towards the Italian border.

Back at the restaurant we were agonising over what damage the Italians had managed to inflict on our brand new Devoitines.

But when we arrived at the airfield we were pleasantly surprised. All the Devoitines were intact. Only three de-commissioned Morans 406 had been slightly damaged.

In April, before we had left Lyons for Le Luc, having learned that I no longer had a guitar having lost one back in Poland, my section colleagues, Baranski and Borowski, helped financially to procure a new one. They bought a nice "Selmer", the same model used by my idol, Django Reinhardt.

Now we were told we were to fly the next day to Perpignan and then on to Algiers. I decided to fly my precious possession in the Devoitine's fuselage right across the Mediterranean.

Behind the pilot's seat space, I took off a side panel and carefully tied the guitar to the longitudinal spars on the upper fuselage with string. Absorbed in my taks it was a short time before I noticed my section leader Pierre, watching as he puffed away on his pipe. I shrugged my shoulders and with an innocent smile, asked: "Ca va?" Without saying a word he walked away.

He was soon back carrying a largish bundle wrapped in black cloth and asked if I could fit his fishing equipment in to his Devoitine's fuselage. Fishing in Algiers City? Maybe in the Casbah!

The following day, 3/6 Grouppe flew to Perpignan near the Franco- Spanish border at the foot of the Pyrennes.

It was a muddy landing ground, cluttered with French machines -Morrans, Blochs, Potez light bombers and many other types. Only the landing slip was clear and we came down in single file. The Grouppe Commander summoned all the pilots together and said:

"Michal! You are in charge and responsbile for turning all thirty six aircraft fuselage tanks 'on' (the one's behind the pilot's armoured plate) and supervising re-fuelling for tomorrow's long flight across the Mediterranean."

The other pilots left for Perpignan's bistros.

Why me? Ah Yes! Pierre must have told our CO about the flying guitar.

Back in 1933, at Bydgoczcz Flying School, I had met my guitar partner, Jan Musial. He was born only twelve kilometres from my native village; he was tall and handsome, of gypsy stock. In that region there were many Hungarian gypsies.

We were both influenced by their music, their zest for life that poured from their violins and guitars. Jan was the Polish incarnation of Django Reinhardt. At the end of three years we asked to be posted to the same Air Force base at Warsaw, Jasio with 112 Squadron and I with 113.

Mustang Mk III and pilots of 315th in spring of 1944. From left: Haczkiewicz, Cwynar, Schmidt (Stefankiewicz?), Sztramko, ? on wheel, Wunsche.

At night, glued to the radio with music sheets beside us to copy certain phrases, we listened to Django Reinhardt and Stephane Grappelli's Quintet de France, on English radio broadcasting from Daventry, Peter Kreuder from Hamburg, Helmut Zacharias from Bremmen and Georges Boulanger from Bucharest.

We were completely taken, enthralled by the innovate improvisations of Django.

He once told an American visitor to Paris who tried to impress him with elaborate improvisation: "You are farting too many notes."

In Romania and France, Jasio and I lost touch. Later, in England at Northolt, when he was with 316 and I with 315, we resumed our musical partnership.

At the Sergeant's Mess dances we played with sergeant Reginald Dickson who was at the piano. (He later went on to thrill millions of visitors to Blackpool with his skilful mastery on the Tower Organ.

On the 13th of February, 1942, Jan was leading a section of three in a squadron of Spitfires climbing through the clouds to attain rendezvous height with a bomber formation. He was hit on the back of the head by his wingman's wing tip.

He, Jasio, must have remained conscious because his Spitfire was found in a field, neatly landed with the undercarriage "up". My dear friend was sitting in the cabin as if he was asleep.

In my flying album, I have a photograph with the caption: "Michael after the religious ceremony at Northolt's hangar, carrying Jasio's coffin on to the lorry's platform and then to Northwood Cemetery, GB, Grave No. H-21O"

The following day, Jasio's squadron commander A. Gabszewicz came to 315 dispersal and gave me my dear colleague's guitar…

At Perpignan the following morning we were briefed before flying to Algiers.

We had only one map of North Africa between us and it was in the possession of one of the Grouppe's pilots who had flown for a French civil airline between Marseilles and Algiers before the war.

We took off singly from the muddy airfield, Pierre one before last, and I following. He was in a left hahd circle but could not "lock" the Devoitine's undercarraige "up" because of mud on the wheels. He kept trying the undercarraige lever, "up and down11, "up and down", circling round Perpignan airfield.

I noticed that the rest of our Grouppe had flown away but I stuck with him.

Eventually Pierre managed to "clear" the mud and the Devoitine's undercarriage "locked up".

For a few minutes we flew along the Spanish coast then turned south towards the Balearic Island of Ibiza. As we approached at a height of about 1,500 metres, the Spaniards greeted us with artillery fire. We turned south on course 170~ on our estimated two hour flight to Algiers. We did not have any "MaeWests".

The Devoitine's engine, a 12Y Hispano-Suiza, purred nicely as we flew into the unknown. I was aware that it would be my last flight in this wonderful machine. It was comfortable and spacious inside, smooth in aerobatics and had first class armaments with a propeller synchronised 20 mm cannon and four 75 mm machine guns but we had no chance to take on the Germans. If only we had had a chance to fly Devoitine 's over Warsaw the previous September.

Weather conditions were very good with puffed cumulus clouds indicating high pressure in the region. After one and a half hours flying, we spotted dark land at "eleven o'clock" and changed course to about 1600 only to find it was a cloud, darkened by the reflection of a westerly sun.

We went back to 1700 and after two hours and fifteen minutes flying, we reached the North African coast. Pierre, rightly turned to starboard and soon, following the coast, we reached Algiers air base.

Once again there were so many aircraft on the airfield, there was hardly any space to land. After coming down singly, at the end of outrun, we had to year left then right, to avoid hitting parked aircraft.

I took out my small personal belongings, extracted my guitar, and stroked the Devoitine's fuselage, as if it were a living creature. To me-it was!

For most of our French colleagues, the war was over. My section leader went back to his beloved France to fish in the Garonne and Dordogne rivers near Bordeaux.

For we Poles, our tortuous quest to regain our country was to continue from the only free country left in Europe, Great Britain. Free French Forces were going to fight on against tyranny. Our brave and sagacious W/O Le Gloan, who had shot down six Italian Fiats CR42, along with another young officer, did not want to have anything to do with the Vichy Government. They refuelled their Devoitines and planned ostensibly to fly to Malta! It was a deliberate deception! French did not want us, Poles, to know theirs real intentions.

Our Polish Commanding Officer, W. Baranski, located us in hotels in the town. From there, with other fellow countrymen already in Algiers who had arrived by boat from Marseilles and Toulon, we organised our journey to Casablanca and from there on to Gibraltar.

In oppressively hot weather, it took two days by train through Oran and Fez to reach Casablanca.

There, in North Africa as a young man, I could not stand the hot, oppressive climate. That's why, now on Albion's soil, I have never complained about the British weather. As far as I am concerned, English and Scottish dampness suits me fine.

We spent the few days waiting on our boat for Gibraltar lounging in the room of our suburban Casablanca lodgings because of the heat. I shared the room with a colleague from Warsaw's 113 squadron, Kazik Sztramko.

One cool night we went into Casablanca, a modern town, and met our CO and his deputy in unexpected - or rather "expected" - places. We pretended not to notice each other.

Returning to our lodgings, Kazik, a harbinger of bad tidings, entered our room first and said: "Michael. I've got bad news for you. Your guitar has been stolen."

From Gibraltar, in a large convoy of merchant boats and a British Navy escort, we sailed wet into the Atlantic.

After nine days we landed at Liverpool. We boarded a train and sped off somewhere during the night. At dawn, we stopped at a large railway junction. It turned out to be Carlisle. We were travelling north, to Scotland.

We arrived in Glasgow and were accommodated in Kelvinhall church halls. There was a friendly gesture from the Lord Provost of Glasgow, Patrick Dollad. We Poles were allowed to travel free of charge on the City's tram network.

From Scotland we went south again to Blackpool's Polish depot, under British jurisdiction.

I was hoping to be posted to the South of England to take part in the Battle of Britain but, instead, after a number of weeks with many other experienced pilots, I went to N15FTS, Carlisle.

In town, I was accommodated with a charming, retired English couple, Mrs and Mrs McCubbing.

And with a bit of financial help from my flying colleagues, I bought a new guitar.

At 15FT5, our instructor was, to we Poles, a God-like figure, a Polish chief test pilot from PZL Warsaw, Kpt Orlinski. At the end of a short course, flying Fairey-Battles, I decided to try some aerobatics.

In the safest place, not to be seen by anyone including the Observor Corps, was way out west over the Solway Firth. To execute a straight slow roll on that ungainly light-bomber, one had to work very hard.

On the return flight to Carlisle, I crossed.to the Scottish side of the Firth flying along the Galloway Hills. Flying east I passed the majestic mountain, Criffel, on my left but hardly glanced at the town nestling farther north by the river's meandering estuary.

After four years of hostilities and 123 operational flights across the English Channel, it was in that town, Dumfries, which I had just perfunctorily looked on from above, I was to settle. Amongst the solid, pragmatic Scots, found personal happiness: "All this and heaven too!"

From Carlisle, I was posted to No 10 Bomber & Gunnery School RAF Unit at Heathhall, Dumfries. For a short time I was flying Fairey-Battle, two seater light bombers, towing drogues along the Solway coast.

The two hourly flights were monotonous so once the operator had retracted the drogue into' the aircraft~ fuselage, I indulged in some low flying - "cutting the grass" - to the south side of Criffell, skirting the trees and buzzing the train in the glen.

Soon after I was posted to the newly formed 315 Polish fighter squadron to RAF Speke. Later, South of England 11th Fighter Group "real" flying took place. I was to fly Hurricanes, Spitfires II, V and IX and Mustangs until the end of hostilities in Europe in 1945.

In 1945, while I was CO of 316 City of Warsaw Fighter Squadron flying Mustangs out of RAF Coltishall, one pilot told me that, when on antidiver patrol he ran out of ammunition. To bring down a flying bomb, he flew close to the VI and with his Mustang's wingtip, lifted - "tapped" -its wing upwards. The gyroscope, the main instrument that kept it flying, went haywire and the doodlebug dived into the ground.

Having some personal experience of "tapping" colleagues' wings while in formation aerobatics, I thought to touch a vibrating, jerky flying bomb was indeed a courageous thing to do....

In the early spring of 1938, while I was with 113 squadron, Warsaw Fighter Brigade, flying PZL X1/2's, news circulated amongst the pilots that a unit of seven aircraft was going to be sent for a period of at least six months to the Polish/Soviet border. Operating from a prepared landing ground, the unit's task would

be to guard the fortifications being built along the Soviet border. The unit would patrol along the northern side of the river Pripiec, near Pinsk, to the south of the ancient Polish Podole town of Krzemieniec Podolski.

From the high night-life of Warsaw, we were being sent to the God forsaken outback of the Polish eastern border. With trepidation we awaited our sentence.

Wladek Szczesniewski, CO of 113 squadron was to lead the unit; his deputy, from '114 squadron, Aleksander Gabszewicz; and the other pilots, Jan Borowski, Hieronim Dudwal, Mietek Kazmierczak, Kazik Sztramko and Michal Cwynar.

On the 6th of May we landed on s sandy strip in a clearing in a pine forest near the smalltown of Sarny.

During the following months, patrolling along the border in sections of two aircraft, we occasionally "strayed" into Soviet territory for ten to fifteen minutes, flying low, to have a look at the Soviet huge, expansive rectangular fields were under cultivation. Groups of men and women toiled away, never looking up, when we flew over. We saw tractors and cultivators, sometimes sitting in the middle of fields, covered in rust, seemingly abandoned after breaking down.

"Kulaks" - dispossessed Russian farmers now working on collective farms - seemed to have ploughed those huge fields in circles, ignoring the corners. Back in the Carpathian foothills where I came from, every stretch of field that a spade's blade could dig was tenderly cultivated. Flying over that waste I though of my second brother, Franek, a farmer who could make a few hectares of precious arable ground from just the four wasted corners in one field.

In that forgotten outback, apart from flying, there wasn't much else to do. Our CO Szczesniewski, a brilliant aerobatic pilot, decided we should regularly train in formation aerobatics. He alloted the six of us permanent (in an inverted "V" shape) positions. Mine was last on the port side or, to use the old football vernacular, outside left!

Upside down in zenith position, to counter-act the downward speed lag, one tended to overtake the colleague in front, trying to maintain close formation. On one occasion there was a hell of a bang. I had "tapped" my colleague's outer wing and his radio antenae mount had made a round hole in my wing!

I could see him in the PZL Xl's open cockpit angrily gesturing, his head left-right-left. He broke off formation; I followed; we both landed.

"It-was your fault." "Oh No. It was your fault.” CO Szczesniewski: "Both of you are to blame. Three days confinement to quarters. Both." It was only a token gesture, there was nowhere to go anyway!

Our sojourn on the eastern border was to end with the first snows in early December. On our return to civilisation, over our Warsaw base, we planned to demonstrate formation aerobatics, first with the most difficult manoeuvre, looping in line-abreast", then in a "V" shape, and third with an "arrow”.

On the 6th December, with the ground already covered by the first winter snow, we left Sarny. But for the past seven months during which there were many flying hours, our Bristol-Mercury VIS2 engines (built under licence in Poland) had not had a major service. They had had enough.

On the return flight, four pilots landed with engine failure. Only three of us landed at Okecie base in Warsaw.

This is what happened to the "Banished Seven".

Wladek Szczesniewski, the second commanding officer of 315 Polish fighter squadron, flying out of Northolt in late 1941, was shot down over northern France. He spent most of the wartime years in the notorious Stalag Luft III prisoner of war camp along with the first and third 315 squadron commanders Pietraszkiewicz and Janus, and B Flight commander Mickiewicz. After the war Szczesniewski returned to Warsaw where he was arrested by the Communists. Later released, he bought a dilapidated lorry and scratched a living on the east bank of the Warsaw-Praga. He died in the late Seventies.

Aleksander Gabszewicz became commanding officer of 316 Polish fighter squadron at Northolt in 1942. Later he became a wing commander and station commander and settled in England where he died in the late Eighties. His wish to return to a free Poland came true. During the week the Polish Air Force Standards were returned to Warsaw from London, on 9th September, 1992, Aleksander's ashes were scattered over Poniatow, 113 and 114 squadron's landing ground during the first days of the 1939 September campaign. The Gabszewicz family and a Guard of Honour were on board the Polish Air Force Helicopter at the time.

Jan Borowski; mathematician; ballistics expert; our "intellectual" from Sarny, who, following orders from "on high", always led our "excursions" into Soviet territory, was in England in 1941 with 302 Polish fighter squadron as a flight commander. Returning from an operational mission over France, he hit London's balloon barrage in bad weather and was killed.

Hieronim Dudwal, 113 and 114 squadrons' most successful pilot during the September, 1939, campaign, shot down four German aircraft - an ME11O, He 111, JU 86 and an HES. 126. He was killed in action in the spring of 1940 while flying with a French Grouppe de Chase.

Mietek Kazmierczak, my "wing tapping" colleague, was killed in action during the 1939 September campaign. 113 and 114 squadrons were flying west to attack a German panzer unit near the town of Sochaczew, outside Warsaw, when we intercepted a large formation of JU 52 bombers. Kazmierczak dived under the formation attacking the leading bomber and shot it down in flames. He kept firing on other 30 52's and then, sudenly, dived into the ground himself. Later, he was found to be shot. Presumably by air gunners. He rests near Warsaw.

Kazik Sztramko, my dear friend, a flying colleague for so many years and at times the harbinger of bad news, taught me in Sarny how to drink 90% proof spirit, yet to avoid setting ones gullet on fire. In France, 1940, we were separated flyoing with different Grouppe. Both of us had flown across Mediteranean, and met again in Algiers-Casbah! In 1944, strafing airbase hangars near Hannover, I was “shot-up” and slightly wounded. Kazik escorted me “tenderly” back to safety od our base in Brenzett. With his charming Polish wife Wanda, settled in Hamilton, Ontario, and raised a family. Died ion December 1995.

Six of “Banished Seven” formation have flown to eternity. Outside-left (the seventh) is bracing himself up to cross the river Styx.


Spring 1944. Pilots of 315th are 'riding' on "Mustang"... Second from left Michał Cwynar.

[bobbysocks]

Heinz "Pritzl" Bär in competition with Gollob.

Heinz Bär was born on 21 March 1913 in Sommerfeld near Lipsk. By 1935, he had been trained to fly Luftwaffe bombers and then was posted to transport duty, flying Ju 52/3m. In the beginning of 1939 Heinz completed fighter training and was posted to JG 51. On 25 September of that year, Bär opened his killboard, shooting down a French Curtiss H-75 A-2 of GC I/4. During the French campaign of 1940, he scored seven more kills: 3 French and 4 British planes. In the Battle of Britain, while ten enemy fighters fell prey to his guns, Bär's Bf 109 returned to base heavily damaged a few times. On 2 September 1940 he experienced 'swimming' in the Channel's cold water, having been shot down himself...

1941 brought the relocation of JG 51 to the Eastern Front. Here Bär's score rose quickly. On 2 July 1941 he was promoted to Leutnant and awarded the Knight's Cross, having totalled 27 kills. When he reached 60 victories, on 14 August 1941, Bär was decorated with the Oak Leaves. On one day, 30 August 1941, Bär scored 6 Soviet planes. From the beginning of 1942 Bär took command of IV/JG 51, and in mid-February he was awarded by Swords, having achieved 90 kills. In the spring of 1942, Bär was to face significant new challenges - - the heavy air battles in the southern part of the Russo-German Front, the Kerch Peninsula area.

"In these days, two of the Luftwaffe 's top aces arrived to command positions in JG 77 in the Crimea: Hauptmann Gordon Gollob, whose score stood at 86, was sent from the Test Centre at Rechlinto take over as Geschwaderkommodore , and Hauptmann Heinz Bär with 91 victories to his credit was sent from IV./JG 51 on the Moscow front to take charge of I./JG 77. Both were highly awarded - Bär with the Swords to the Knight's Cross with Oak Leaves while Gollob carried the Oak Leaves. These two men were however had diametrically opposed personalities. "Pritzl" Bär, the notoriously undisciplined Lepiziger who simply refused to fly on combat missions whenever he didn't feel 'inspired' and the harsh Nazi follower MacGollob of old Prussian military style definitely would have clashed, had not Bär's I./JG 77 hastily been transferred to the Mediterranean area a few weeks later. However, during the last two weeks of May 1942, Bär and Gollob practically 'took over' the air over the Kerch - Taman area.

On 16 May, Heinz Bär proved his skills by shooting down two LaGG-3s - his 92nd and 93rd victories. Next day, Gollob followed by destroying three R-5 light bombers. He there after attacked a Yak-1 piloted by Sergeant N. K. Chayka. He hit the Yakovlev, saw it go down and returned home, reporting it as his 93rd victory (claiming it as a LaGG-3). Not caring much about the war in general, Gollob started competing with his subordinate in the cynical manner that characterized many of the Luftwaffe fighter aces during World War II. The fate of his last victim didn't bother the ambitious Gollob the slightest. Having suffered severe wounds from the machine guns and automatic cannon in Gollob's Messerschmitt Bf 109 F, the young Sergeant Chayka struggled at the controls of his damaged Yakovlev fighter. He managed to bring it back to the Khersones airfield, but lost control of it during landing and crashed into another Yak-1. Both planes were destroyed and Chayka was killed.

Having returned to base, Gollob learned that Bär meanwhile had bagged three MiG-3s. Hauptmann Gollob continued to strive for successes, picking easy targets during the following days. In contrast to the common fighter tactic of attacking from above, Gollob preferred to sneak up from ground-level, to be surethat no-one tried to attack him from the blind spot beneath. An anonymous pilot of JG 77 wrote the following account of Gollob's way of fighting:

'Gollob flew from Kerch together with his wingman. They positioned themselves at a low altitude beneath a Russian formation. Then they started climbing in spirals, carefully maintaining their position beneath the enemy formation. Before the peacefully flying Russians had even suspected any mischief, the two planes at the bottom of their formation had been shot down and the two Germans were gone.' (Prien: JG 77, p. 1018.)

On 18 May, another three obsolete R-5 bombers fell prey to Gollob's private ambitions, raising his kill score to 96. Yet again he was surpassed by Bär, who got involved in a combat with twelve Soviet fighters over the Tamanskaya Sound and shot down two LaGG-3s. The same day, Heinz Bär's I./JG 77 was visitedby his personal friend, Jagfliegergeneral Adolf Galland . A detail in this context is that a deep animosity eventually would develop between Galland and Gollob. Having sacked Gollob from his post as fighter plane expert due to lacking competence in 1944, Galland as Jagdfliegergeneral soon found himself targeted by Gollob's plotting (in house arrest early in 1945, Galland was informed that Gollob collected material against him regarding his private use of Luftwaffe cars, his gambling and his notorious womanizing).

On 19 May, Gollob and Bär both were in action. The former managed to bring down three R-5s again, but the magical '100th victory' slipped away. Meanwhile, Heinz Bär shot five Ishak fighters from the sky, for which he was mentioned in the OKW bulletin on the following day:

' Hauptmann Bär, the Gruppenkommandeur in a Jagdgeschwader, achieved his 99th to 103rd aerial victories yesterday. The total victory tally of Jagdgeschwader 77 has increased to 2,011.'

Next day, Gollob lurked along the Caucasus coast and managed to bring down a DB-3 bomber - being the tenth German fighter pilot to surpass the 100th victory score - followed by an unhappy LaGG-3."

This text is an excerpt from the manuscript of a book "Black Cross/Red Star; German and Russian Fighter Pilots in Combat 1941-1945" dealing with the air war on the Eastern Front 1941-1945, which Christer Bergström is working on at the present. This book will give the most thorough-going account so far presented of aerial combat between the Luftwaffe and the Soviet Air Force during World War II. By carefully comparing German and Russian sources, Christer Bergström has arrived at many astonishing and hitherto unknown facts.

Soon after this exciting point in the irrivalry, in June of 1942, Bär's JG 77 was moved to MTO area. While leading I./JG 77, 'Pritzl' downed several British fighters over Malta . On 13 October 1942 his victims were three "Spitfires" (two of 185 Sgn and one of 1435 Sqn RAF). Another "Spitfire" was shot down four days later (17 October 1942) near La Valetta. Then Heinz Bär took part in combat missions in the hot African sky. In Tunisia, he scored his next 61 Allied aircraft victories (Nos 118-179). But the density of air activity from the start of the war combined with the hard battle conditions in Africa to seriously undermine Bär's fighting spirit, and exhaust him both physically and mentally. In effect, this famous ace was removed from command and sent back to Germany for 'rehabilitation'.

The spring of 1944 saw Major Heinz Bär back in active duty as commander of the II./JG 1 in defense of the Reich. His first victory after so long a break, Bär's 200th, was scored flying FW 190A-7 'red 23' on 22 April 1944. A week later, on 29 April 1944, he took off with another personal FW 190 A-7, WNr 431007 'red 13' (see profile bottom). On this morning 28 fighters from his II./JG 1 were vectored against a USAAF bombers. "Pritzl" shot down a P-47 "Thunderbolt", for victory No. 201, and a few minutes later flamed a B-24 "Liberator" for No. 202. In 1944, he downed three Allied planes more, achieving 205 kills.

In the beginning of 1945 Heinz Bär was moved to command the jet fighter school III./EJG 2 ( Lechfeld Schule ). In March of 1945 this school was reformed to an operational unit equipped with Me 262s. On 19 March 1945 'Pritzl' scored his first 'jet' victory - a P-51 "Mustang". In the hands of an expert the Me 262 proved it self a most deadly weapon: on 21 March "Pritzl" claimed a B-24, and three days later his victims were another B-24 and a P-51 (Nos 208-209). Until 23 April 1944, when Bär arrived at Galland's JV 44 he was credited with 13 'jet' victories. With the "jet experten" of JV 44, Bär downed two P-47s on 27 April. The final victory of "Pritzl" Bär in WW II was a P-47, downed over Bad Aibiling on 29 April 1945.

With total of 221 victories Heinz Bär is ranked 8th among the Luftwaffe's top guns and with 16 Me 262 kills, he's the 3rd ranking 'jet' fighter ace of WW II.

It's interesting to note that Bär was very fortunate - while achieving those victories, he was shot down 18 times himself! Bär's good fortune in the air left him on 28 April 1957, when he was killed in light plane accident in Braunschweig, Germany.