In their own words...

[Lost Apiarist]

Re-posted from http://109lair.hobbyvista.com/articl...er/stigler.htm

This is a sitdown interview with German Ace Franz Stigler, who is perhaps most famous for escorting a wounded B-17 back to safety.

Interview and narrative © Michael Fuller 2003 exclusively for The 109 Lair.

Is that your plane, the big picture?

That was my plane in Afrika…


You know…I really don’t know how to start…I really appreciate you sitting down with me and spending this time. Do you mind if I just start asking you a few questions?

Yeah, go ahead…

You began your career with Jagdgeschwader 27…how did you get involved with them and the Luftwaffe…Had you always wanted to be a pilot?

Well, I was a pilot before, uh…the Air Force...also. At the time…we, uh…became pilots…we had nothing to do, uh…with the Air Force, so we were attached to the Lufthansa, and uh…so we were also…I mean, I was out, uh… of my own training…uh…as a pilot…as a…as a private person, and, uh…then I went to, uh…to train in seaplanes… I had an unlimited seaplane license.

Wow…did you always want to fly as a boy?

Well…I wanted…My father was a pilot in the first world war, my grade 5 teacher was a…a fighter pilot in the first world war…my brother and I…we… joined the flying club with glider planes, you know… when I was 12 years old, my brother was…16 at the time. I think my first glider flight…was a little… between 12 ½ and 13 years.

So you were fairly experienced then?

Oh, yeah…

When did you report to JG27?

I didn’t report…I was reported…and so…in…1942.

Now, the first plane you flew in the Luftwaffe was the 109?

Yeah…

Which was the first Model was it?

F

How did you like it?

I liked it a more than any other one…this is an F model.

(Franz points back to the massive painting behind me)

Cool…it has the tropical filter as well.
Yeah…and where is a G…(Franz looks around date the multitude of painting and photographs)… that is a G model here…(Franz points to another smaller painting, again featuring a G-6 in his original colours)…that’s the last 109 I was flying.

The last one you flew was a G?

Yeah…actually it was a K model, but uh…we used it as a G model, you know…and then I was a…a pilot for the 262 also.


How did you like it? I mean you had so many years as a pilot, and you basically went from a prop driven plane over to a jet. Did your experience flying help with the 262, or did you have to learn over again, being something totally new?

No, no…my flying experience as I said…was with all kinds of - I don’t know how many different types I flew, maybe a hundred...and uh, so…it was something that we flew…same with the flying boat, you know. I flew all kinds of flying boats, you know...up to 4 motors… at the time

From what I understand, the 262 was very dangerous? The engines had a tendency to overheat…

Oh yeah…

…Did you feel safe in it flying?

Oh yeah, oh yeah, very safe you know…our engines were very good, you know… which in the end it helps. No…I… once had an officer in Germany, but uh…

(Franz stopped himself…it sounded like it was quite personal, so I didn’t pry…)

What was you first impression when you first flew the 262?

Well, we…uh…we had only single seaters, you know…there…and then at the first factory where I had learned to fly it, we were 14…the first 14 men, I was one of them. They, uh…stud on the…stood on the wing, you know, we were sitting in the cockpit, and they showed us everything…and so, then they said to us, “this is your speed for take off, and then, uh…that’s your landing speed… now take off!”… you know…

Really! (I start laughing).

…And that’s how we learned to fly it.

Wow…The cockpit in the 262 was much bigger than the 109 wasn’t it?

Yes, big…and comfortable…it was a comfortable airplane and a safe airplane, let’s put it this way, you know. My Number 3 got…2 days before the war was over…a friend of mine… had not a chance to fly the airplane yet, he had so many flights, only he had not very many with it and so I said, “okay, fly it”, you know…he killed himself…on takeoff. (Through research I found out that it was Leutnant Pirchhan. After persuading Stigler to allow him to fly the plane, soon after take-off Pirchhan crashed at Oberweissenfeld, north of the airfield, totally destroying the aircraft and was fatally wounded. He died a few hours later being comforted in Stigler’s arms in a farmer’s field)

On the 109 and the 262, the Revi sights were always mounted slightly to the right…

Yes, uh…on the panel…in front sometimes…but usually they were in the middle.

Why did they sometimes have them to the right?

Uh, usually we were…uh, right handed, you know…and so…on the 109 they were not so to the right…on the 109 they were right in front of you.

Your favourite was the F model, yet the one that was produced the most was the G6…

Yeah…

…But most pilots preferred, like yourself, the F models and the earlier G’s, like the G-2. What was the reason behind that?

The G6 basically had a heavier motor and could fly higher…not more speed, but that’s it…it starts getting heavier every time they put something new in.

Did you ever have the GM-1 boost or MW-50 in any of your planes?

Oh yeah, we used it quite often…in combat you know.

How long did it last?

Uhh…you were not allowed to have it at more than 5 min., you know…if you used it 10 minutes, then motor has to come out.

It makes the engine worse?

It wrecks the motor.

And this was for the higher altitude?

Higher…yes…

And at what speed could you get up to?

Oh boy…I don’t remember…450 or 500 km…

Like you said, you could only use it for 5 min. otherwise you would burn out the engine. How many 5 min. intervals could you use? Did you have to shut it down for a period of time to let the engine cool?

That’s okay…that uh…it didn’t matter. You…but you never used it for five minutes…a minute, minute and a half and that’s it.

The armament, you used on the Messerschmitt…you used the Mk108 cannon…

Yeah we had it in the middle…we had two centimetre…or later a three centimetre Cannon…and then a thirty millimetre on top…two of them.

Was there a fairly big muzzle flash from the cannon?

Oh yeah…oh yeah…(Franz pints to a picture of his Me262). Up there we had four, three centimetre cannons…I shot a wing off a B-17 once...

Did the aircraft move quite a bit when you fired the weapon?

No, no, not at all.

Really? I assumed that because of the large calibre cannon, the plane would move quite a bit.

No, no…only very small…but that’s all.

What about the gun pods…a lot of pilots had the option of these…they found that -

Oh, I never… I hated them!! I never had them on my airplane. As soon as I got a new airplane… I say, “That’s a damn part, off with them!”...Made it sluggish, you know.

Yeah, I heard a lot of pilots hated them…so, if most pilots didn’t like them, as it made the airplane sluggish, poor manoeuvrability, why do you suppose they kept trying to incorporate them?

Just more firepower...

Now, in the F model, you had the automatic Prop Pitch control… I know the early Emils it was all manual. Did you ever switch to manual settings?

You could…have uh, have it not automatic, but uh…as soon as we were off the ground we would put in automatic.

So it just handles the engine better?

Because uh...in the air… you might overrev it, and the motor will start to burn

Okay…so you would only switch it to manual for take off and landing?

Yeah…

I know on your left side you had the throttle and adjustments for prop and the mixture lever.

Yeah…

Where did you adjust the prop?

Oh, you can FORGET about the mixture control!! It’s not like in a…in a…like in an American airplane or British airplane they had their mixture control. Forget about it, we never had to...it was automatic. Like once throttle had a button on…for prop control…and uh…you could shift it like a gear thing and it would make the motor...you just push it and could adjust it and make it more…

And that was on the throttle?

Yes, there was a button and you could switch it. There was a clock there… in the air…on the control panel… that showed you how your prop…and uh, how it works and was condition.

I’ve actually seen pictures of Galland, and it looked like he mounted a telescopic gun sight to the Revi…like a rifle scope. Have you ever seen that?

(Franz laughs) No, never…

Now the view from the Me109…backward was really difficult. Did you keep yourself completely strapped it when you were flying?

Oh yeah..

And how did you compensate for the lack of being able to see behind.

Well you could turn your head hundred-eighty degrees around. We didn’t have any mirrors in like the Spitfire…what you did was when you strapped yourself in, you had your shoulder straps loose…and uh…and not so tight…so you could move…you could put it in autopilot too… you know…

You flew the Me110 as well correct?

Yeah…(Franz makes a “disgusted” face)

Did you ever fly the Focke Wulf 190?

Oh yeah, I flew it for a few hours, but not in combat.

Did you like it?

I liked it very much…but we were all so used to the 109. But uh, Focke Wulf 190 D model, was far better than we had…and the 152 was even so better.

Yeah...the 152 was the final one…How was the view…the canopy was a lot bigger…

Oh yeah,

…Than that of the 109…did you find the view a lot easier?

Oh yeah, it was…but…the landing gear you had to be careful, because we had a narrow landing gear, the FW had uh…a wider one.

So being on the western front, you obvious flew against the Mustang, Spitfire-

P-7 – uh, P-47, Spitfire, Hurricane…the P-38...and no more…some of them I flew, also…the captured ones.

What did you think of the American and the British planes?

Well it, uh…the P-47 and the… P-51 was a…a good airplanes, you know…and depends also who was sitting in it…it’s always this. Did you ever see the Spitfire out in the Vancouver Airport?

No, I haven’t.

It uh…was the Spitfire Fourteen…(Franz leans over and grabs a journal from his desk and pulls out a business card). If you like, you can write the phone number down…Just phone him and he, uh…let you look at it, yo u know... (Franz opens a book containing a wealth of business cards, all aircraft related)

I didn’t know they had one there actually...

Penta…

I look at the business card. “Penta Aviation”.

His name is uh…Bob Jens…he’s just now rebuilding a...a Mosquito…But he has the money… so. Owns two…owns two hangers out there at Vancouver airport…but costs a lot of money…really a lot

So when you were flying, how easy was it to spot an aircraft? Could you recognize it at 500, 1000 meters?

It depends, uh…I could, I had pretty good eyes…and I could see pretty far. Of course that’s what you needed, especially in Afrika, where you could see the enemy before he saw you.

What were the conditions like in Afrika…the weather…did it affect you at all as a pilot?

No, I was uh…I was used to it; I was two years there. We had people who they had to send them to Russia because they couldn’t stand the heat and sun…both sides was the same.

The Trop F model had these odd attachment points for a “Sun Umbrella”. Did you actually use those things?

(Franz laughs) Umbrella? No, no. See, we had also a rifle in there…inside...in the airplane...two shotguns and one rifle. Three barrels, you know…in a box. The only thing was we never used it. But uh, as soon as one airplane belly-landed, the rifles disappeared!

(I laughed) I can imagine…someone taking it for their collection! If you were flying against a Mustang or a spitfire, was it easy to lose sight of them?

That depends, you know…I mean I had a lot of experience…I flew a lot of different airplanes… and I flew the Spitfire XII, V, and IX. I flew. In Afrika the Five, and in Germany the Nine. And this one out there at Vancouver Airport is a Fourteen, the last model…2000 hp, 5 bladed prop.

Yeah, I’ve never seen the 5 bladed one…the 3 and a 4 bladed one for sure...

The last ones. Big Griffon engines. With the engine of 2000hp, they couldn’t build a prop so big, so they made 5 blades.

What plane of the American or British did you fear the most, or show the biggest challenge for you?

…The P-51.

It was one of the fastest.

Yeah… It was one of the fastest and most manoeuvrable.

What was you favourite thing to do…in Afrika…or anywhere on the western front… when you weren’t flying? When you were on leave, what did you like to do as a hobby, what did you like to do for fun?

(Franz smiles quickly)…Play with the girls!

(I laugh)…well that’s a…that’s a good hobby! Actually, I heard a rumour that pilots used to fill their drop tanks with beer, is that true?

Oh yeah…sometimes we used to drink from it…sometimes for transport.

We share a laugh.

…I had a Messerschmitt 108 here in Vancouver…

Yeah, I think I saw a picture of it here.

Yeah…this one here. I had this one for 16 years. I sold it to an Australian.

[Lost Apiarist]

Continued....

You had it painted in the Luftwaffe colours as well.

Yeah…exactly to the replica of the colours I had.

So, what was the 108 used for mainly?

To bring…uh, generals from the rear back to the front also…only for transport.

You have some beautiful pictures here…. Did you ever operate from the same fields as JG 51, JG 53...did you ever meet any of the pilots?

I have…after the war, not uh…during the war…during the war when they were shot down. But after the war I was…I met survived American Fighter aces and a few times invited…you know…up there is Douglas…(points to a picture)…the left one…with 2 wooden legs…and the middle one, was uh…was one of his…Squadron Commanders…

(Looking around he room I see a panel from Galland's F-4) Is this here an original?

This is a side panel from an airplane, you know.

This is an original?

Original, yeah…

Do you mind. If I take a look at it.

Oh yeah, it was taken from uh…the manufacture of the last year of the F... You see that little tag...see that little tag, that’s the manufacture of it. On the bottom left is an original Werk number plate. That was General Galland’s.


Wow! I have to take a picture of it before I go. You had to bail out before and use your parachute…

Yeah, six times…I belong to the Caterpillar Club. Six survived by parachute…it’s an international club.

What was it like the first time you used your parachute? You were obviously trained to use them…

No.

No? Really?

We were not trained, but, uh, when you use…when you HAVE to use them…then you use them - We didn’t give a shit about anything else.

(I start to laugh)

The first time my airplane was on fire…the motor, uh, flames were coming in, and had to get out fast. I still had my hands and my face burnt, you know…but uh…you get out fast.

You didn’t even think, you just pushed the canopy and jumped?

No, you just take…the canopy takes off. You just pull a lever and the canopy takes off…And you threw the…the belts from the airplane because you were tied down… and you just take ‘em off…take the stick… and fly and push it down… if you can still use it, because sometimes you cannot, uh…control the airplane anymore, no. Half a wing missing or both…I jumped six times I jumped...

Did you ever get used to it?

No…I never could get used to it.

When you did lose an airplane either due to a bad landing or enemy fire, how did you get a new one assigned to you when you got back to your airbase? Did you automatically get a new one?

There was always something there, some other airplane there. The Jagdgeschwader Squadron Commander always had 2 airplanes as well...

When new pilots came in…younger pilots….

They had to bring their own airplane with them.

Okay…so when a new models came out…because you had so many missions did you get priority over the newer pilots? Did you get the aircraft first then the younger pilots?

No, we didn’t do that. We didn’t get priority. We didn’t do it. Whoever came in last with the latest model, that’s his airplane, you see. Whoever it was a Corporal or, uh…it was a General it doesn’t matter who it was. We had other pilots, Corporal, Private with us you know, like…uh… the squadron got bigger and in rough shape…with a bunch of youngsters you know, all kinds of ‘em…Lieutenants, and…Sergeants. (Franz points to another photo) These guys together shot down within about 15 minutes, uh…24 B-24’s.

Wow, in 15 minutes! Did you always have the same wingman?

Uh, usually, yes…I kept ‘em. We usually flew with 4 people…another 3. Schwarm we’d call it….”Swarm”…it was a…a wingman and then again a leader and this also a wingman.

And you usually kept the same wingman.

Yeah…as long as he was there...

If your aircraft was being repaired, would you borrow someone else’s? I know you said there was always an extra one...

Yeah, if you wanted you could borrow…but let them fly their own airplane. For repairs…change the whole motor was in-fact four-hour job. And, uh, if you had holes in it, you’d just put tape on it to cover the holes. As long as nothing was…destroyed inside, y’know controls and so on…there they had special tools…

Did you fly with Edu Neumann?

Edu Neumann…that was my Gruppe Commander in Afrika... I met him 3 years ago…and he’s in poor shape now...getting old…91 years old…

Do you guys meet when you can…other pilots?

Yeah…I meet some of them…we are not of many left for JG27. We had a…a meeting and they took 3 different units together because there wasn’t too many pilots left…. I am one of the oldest ones - If I’m not the oldest one...except Neumann.

What was he like?

I did not fly with him… he didn’t do much flying though.

What about Gunter Rödel…

Yeah that’s Rödel there. (Franz points to a picture of a black and white officer posing on a desk with a phone on his ear)

Oh here on the left, the one with the phone?

Yeah. He was my, uh…firsts Squadron Commander...and I made my first missions I flew with him.

Did you learn quite a bit from him?

Oh yeah…he was good…

Out of all the pilots you have flown with was there one who made a really good lasting impression on you?

Uh, well…this depends...someone a year or so…I had a Sergeant...and he had a Ritterkreuz. And he, uh…he got shot down…uh…in Germany…over Germany. He had a Cross of Knights and then he got after he was killed...he got the one with oak leaves. He was only non-com (NCO) that had this got one.

What was his name?

Oh…damn…I’m terrible with names…my wife might know the name, she would know his name…

Did you as pilots always have regular training courses on escape and evasion, survival…

Yeah, we had them, but no one gave a shit. You lost everyday you lost a few pilots…everyday…and so…we are sitting there every night writing to a wife or to parents, you know…you’d have half a bottle of cognac besides you…because that’s the only way you could do it, you know. We’d have to write about what a “hero” he was, and so…late in the afternoon there’d be about 6…multiply by…by 2…but, uh…we were sitting out of the evening with all the other men, the liquor and the beer…and we were sitting in the office and writing…and we had to write it by hand…We couldn’t get the…the Master Sergeant to write the letters, no…YOU had to write the letters.

With new pilots…obviously you have better experience with the aircraft like the F and the G…did the new pilots have problems?

You’d put them in the middle…for the first few flights, you know…so they know what is going on. The…the new pilots they hardly could fly the 109…they had seventy or eighty hours of flying time. They had of heck of a time learning to fly the airplane…take off and land, you know. As I said, every pilot came with a plane. They came form the school and then they went to uh…to the manufacture, or someplace where they had the airplanes, and they would come with them…especially in Afrika.

In Afrika, was the tropical filter used just for takeoff?

Yes, for takeoff and landing you close it…because of the sand, you know…after you go about a couple of thousand feet high…and then you open it…

How many times were you out per day flying missions?

Sometimes three a day, three times, yeah…especially in Afrika. And we didn’t waste any time because if the bombers.

How long did it take for fatigue to hit you, tiredness, wanting to take a break?

I don’t know, I don’t remember…we had no time for fatigue.

Out of all the planes you’ve flown in your whole life, including like your 108…what was you favourite plane, from the day you started flying?

My favourite plane?…I had a Heinkel 70 …have you heard of it?

Yeah, it’s big plane.

It was like…looked like a Spitfire…only bigger, it was 6 seater. One pilot in the front, and in the middle down there, the passengers. It was a kind of a…how do you say it…a commuter plane…you bring a pilot from some, uh...airport to the main area…and I had it for…oh, I don’t know how long. I teached my students with it…I visited my girlfriends with it…on the weekend I could fly anywhere I wanted…

So that was your favourite?

Yeah! It was fast, you know. At the time it was the fastest airplane there was.

What year was this?

Uh…43 or 44…No, 33 or 34


There was a gunsite for a Me262 (EZ42)…my friend Roger waned me to ask you about it…

Yeah…on the 262 it adjusted itself for the speed and acceleration, so…it was a Revi too, for all aircraft types it was the Revis…but o the 262 you saw it in the windshield…the reflection.

Did you ever have any dogfights or battles, where you didn’t think you would make it back home, or uninjured?

Oh yeah, it happened quite often, but you don’t even think of it. We…we always uh…in the, the home defence we were always under...under...had less than the other side.

There were lots of American fighters, Germany had lots of fuel shortages and…

I can quite remember a night in ’43 in Afrika we flew over the Junkers 52’s transport planes with fuel and ammunition…and as we came over there, I had 6 airplanes with me…6 fighter planes as escort. We came over there, and the sky looked like a swarm of bees!…P-51s, you know… and uh…uh…Spitfires. Of course we were always short. I always made it home…but not quite…

Did the transport planes make it?

…no…

…Did you ever, just for fun, did you ever fly your plane without permission?

Oh yeah…we had also, uh…aerobatic planes, you know, little biplanes, and we went up and cut loose and just have yourself fun. We had those cloud, those… pillow clouds, and we’d fly around them. Looked like Blanket against the wall, you know.

What were your favourite memories?

I…I don’t know…I…one is I didn’t shoot this guy down… this guy down this B-17…Charlie Brown, I let him get away…I was talking yesterday with him. He might come here to our airshow. They want to make a film down there, I don’t want to. I just want to have my quiet peace, you know…that’s all.

Now…I’ve read the story…(Franz’s cat walks over, meows). If you downed one more plane, you could be nominated for a Knights Cross. It was pretty much illegal not to shoot an enemy aircraft down was it not?

Yeah, more or less. I didn’t do my job, I should have shot him down. If I wouldn’t have not seen a person I would have shot him down. I came from a…I was flying above, and uh...I figured out how to finish him off…I’d say I’d do it the normal way from the rear. And I came from the rear…and I was waited…waiting and gave the tail gunner a chance to lift the guns…the guns were hanging down, you know. And he never lifted the guns. And I came closer and closer…and at about 20 feet…and I saw him lying in there in his blood…so I couldn’t shoot. I flew up…next to his right side...and uh… the plane was bad, you know…much damage. I was surprised it flew even…I tried to get him to land…in Switzerland…because of the damage, I never saw so much… next to him, I flew for many minutes…until he got to the sea…and then I flew home…

Why did you stay with him for so long?

…Because I didn’t want anyone else to get him…

Wow…

Yeah…and it took him forty years to find me. In out Jagr magazine…we have this uh…this pilot magazine…(Franz pulls out a copy of a pilots magazine). He had an ad and…as looking for the pilot who let him go…now we meet every year. Charlie and I meet every year now. Right now I cannot fly I have an asthma you know…so I am not allowed to get insurance…because of the stupid air and air-conditioning in the airplane...it’s dangerous… you know…not too long ago a woman died in an airplane because of it.

So, when you came back from the B-17, were you scared at all, that someone might find out that you didn’t -

- I didn’t tell anybody. No definitely not… I couldn’t tell anyone…I couldn’t…I’d be court-martialled. I shot, on the same day I shot two B –17’s down, you know.

[Lost Apiarist]

Continued...

Was it was it easy to keep formation in the group?

Oh yeah…yeah, you get used to it.

The armour glass was first on the outside of the aircraft, and then they moved it to the inside for the G model. Is that correct?

Yeah…

It was about 2-3 inches thick…even at that thickness, were there times when it didn’t help?

My windshield saved me…I have a hole…from the tail gunner of a B-17...(Franz points to a dent in his head). Through the thick glass in the windshield.

It went right through the windshield?

Yes, it had exact enough power to stick.

When you bailed out, you’d just pull the lever…did you ever have any problems getting out?

Yeah, on the right hand, you had a lever on there…as soon as you pull the lever…the air took off, uh…took the canopy away…

Did it ever get stuck?

No…- oh yeah, once…it was shot in there once by a bullet, it was sitting in there so I couldn’t get it…but you get strong!

Did you choose the camouflage yourself…your own emblem?

Oh yeah, you could put your girlfriends name on…like this one here…that’s my first wife’s name on here (points to a picture of a G-6). But, uh…sometimes you’d change the name so often (Franz smiles)…you’d go to a new airport and have a new girlfriend…and then you would have to put on a new one…

Where did you meet your first wife?

Yeah, I met her…the last time I saw her was 14 years ago. And I knew her parents very well. And I had a girlfriend at that time…and she was coming over…and I was seeing her parents…and then I was there in Afrika, and it was under pressure again…when we were arriving (Canada) I chose, you know…asked her to come over here…she was then twenty-five years old, twenty-four…and we were up in the Queen Charlotte Islands, and we were there for 5 ½ years...And we loved EVERY minute if it. After a year she was so home sick…so then, “you go home”…because everybody begged that she wouldn’t come back (Canada), you know…but after 8 weeks she was back again. And we remained for 47 years.

Wow…all these pictures that are in here, do you paint these?

No, nothing. Somebody else did them for me. This one of a 262, was an artist from the air force in Port, ah…in Portland. This one here, and the top one. He is from Kamloops. The other one is a famous painting…the one in the middle there…is worth about $2000.00 now…signed by Galland.

You have a beautiful room here…there just so much history here.

…There is a picture here…of General Galland in this room here…the little one. Galland was…one of my best friends I ever had. Oh yeah…he came over here, 4 times he was here. I went hunting with him and he got a lot of the moose. In Germany there is no moose, you know. And he shot a good one…a big one!! We went up to the North in a cabin there…and we went and flew around in a Beaver and showed us where…and he shot a REAL big one! He was happy with it.

(Cat jumps on my leg)

Oh get down!

(Franz was talking to the cat by the way J) Do you want me to put her down?

Yeah just on the floor there…

You weren’t in the 262 for very long were you? How may missions?

I had the 262 for over half a year…you know they build ‘em… one down in America.

Yeah! They flew one few months ago!

They got it up…I was there. If the pilot would have done what I told him…he wouldn’t have grounded it...

They wrecked the landing gear didn’t they?

Yeah, the undercarriage collapsed…

What did he do wrong?

What we always did…when we came in for a landing, and we were high yet, we sideslipped so the undercarriage would really lock.

And he didn’t?

It was common that it did that, you know…automatically. We had the same problem. Thing is, if we didn’t get the wheels even, you know, because the airplane exploded right there. Because on the front there was a little gas engine on each side, you know… and the gas tank there, and as soon as it hit the ground…something happened to set the tank off.

The engines over heat a lot?

Yeah, you had to be careful because, don’t forget the engine was a 28 hr. engine…if you made 20 hours you were a hero, you know.

The whole engine was replaced after?

Yeah, replaced…and very fast. But…we were under- powered too…they now in the US had 50% more horsepower then we did, you know…and it’s a 10,000 hr. engine. That’s the problem piloting it… I’ll have to phone ‘em….

I know they were finishing a 2-seater…

Yeah, that was a 2-seater…the second one is a…for the Messerschmitt Foundation…and it’s almost finished. They built 5 of them.

I think one is going to Arizona…

Yeah, some uh…judge bought it.

Very expensive…

…Two million dollars.

So when you rocked the plane side to side to lock the landing gear, did you have to do that for any other plane?

No, no…only on the 262.

It had 4 cannons in the front…

Yeah…four, three centimetre cannons…all in the front there…

How was that?

We would, uh…start normally shoot head on with the 262…but after, we didn’t do it. Well, you’d shoot the wing off a B-17…just like nothing.

I was reading that pilots specifically had a fairly large camaraderie and respect for each other…even against an enemy. Was reading an article on the Finnish Ace “Illu" Juutilanen, and whenever he could, he would sometime fly over the aircraft he shot down to look to make sure the pilot was okay.

In combat you count them…like when I shot a B-17 down…and I…you had a tendency of counting the parachutes, you know…how many parachutes came out, you know…or…when she… she exploded…you felt sorry, you know…same when if you shot a fighter down…and…and most of the time they…could jump…unless you killed him

(There was pause from both of us at this point. It felt like it lasted a couple of minutes). Did you normally shoot a specific area of the plane, like the wing root?

You’d shoot anywhere you can, because you’re position was not always good. You didn’t just shoot at the wing…you shot everything.

With all these tail gunners shooting at you, were you mainly diving, then coming back around, or would you go from behind?

That was…you can’t really say that…because you’d do it all automatically. In the first place you had to be a good airplane pilot…Most of the time we don’t remember what we did…

Did you choose the camouflage yourself…your own emblem?

Oh yeah, you could put your girlfriends name on…like this one here…that’s my first wife’s name on here (points to a picture of a G-6). But, uh…sometimes you’d change the name so often (Franz smiles)…you’d go to a new airport and have a new girlfriend…and then you would have to put on a new one…

Where did you meet your first wife?

Yeah, I met her…the last time I saw her was 14 years ago. And I knew her parents very well. And I had a girlfriend at that time…and she was coming over…and I was seeing her parents…and then I was there in Afrika, and it was under pressure again…when we were arriving (Canada) I chose, you know…asked her to come over here…she was then twenty-five years old, twenty-four…and we were up in the Queen Charlotte Islands, and we were there for 5 ½ years...And we loved EVERY minute if it. After a year she was so home sick…so then, “you go home”…because everybody begged that she wouldn’t come back (Canada), you know…but after 8 weeks she was back again. And we remained for 47 years.

Wow…all these pictures that are in here, do you paint these?

No, nothing. Somebody else did them for me. This one of a 262, was an artist from the air force in Port, ah…in Portland. This one here, and the top one. He is from Kamloops. The other one is a famous painting…the one in the middle there…is worth about $2000.00 now…signed by Galland.

You have a beautiful room here…there just so much history here.

…There is a picture here…of General Galland in this room here…the little one. Galland was…one of my best friends I ever had. Oh yeah…he came over here, 4 times he was here. I went hunting with him and he got a lot of the moose. In Germany there is no moose, you know. And he shot a good one…a big one!! We went up to the North in a cabin there…and we went and flew around in a Beaver and showed us where…and he shot a REAL big one! He was happy with it.

I was reading that pilots specifically had a fairly large camaraderie and respect for each other…even against an enemy. Was reading an article on the Finnish Ace “Illu" Juutilanen, and whenever he could, he would sometime fly over the aircraft he shot down to look to make sure the pilot was okay.

In combat you count them…like when I shot a B-17 down…and I…you had a tendency of counting the parachutes, you know…how many parachutes came out, you know…or…when she… she exploded…you felt sorry, you know…same when if you shot a fighter down…and…and most of the time they…could jump…unless you killed him

(There was pause from both of us at this point. It felt like it lasted a couple of minutes). Did you normally shoot a specific area of the plane, like the wing root?

You’d shoot anywhere you can, because you’re position was not always good. You didn’t just shoot at the wing…you shot everything.

With all these tail gunners shooting at you, were you mainly diving, then coming back around, or would you go from behind?

That was…you can’t really say that…because you’d do it all automatically. In the first place you had to be a good airplane pilot…Most of the time we don’t remember what we did…

So it was all instinct?

Yeah…but...there was too much, uh… combat. You’d combat for half and hour and you’re worn out…up and down…and…

How did the oxygen regulator work when you were fighting at higher altitudes?

You didn’t do anything. You’d put the mask on, and that’s it...that’s all. Yes, you could see…from the meter, how you…when you breathe in.

I brought with me an Oxygen Regulator from a Messerschmitt, because I had some questions about it

Wow, is that German?

Yeah…it’s from a Messerschmitt. (Franz held the Oxygen Regulator and examined it for a couple of minutes).

Oh yeah…if you needed more oxygen, you’d push this button…you’d did the same thing when you uh…are out with your girlfriend…(Franz smiles)…you jump in the airplane for 5 min. and with the heavy breathing…and you’d need the oxygen...

(We share a laugh) The Messerschmitt was a very small, cramped cockpit.

Uhhh, well… we didn’t need a shoehorn to get in, but pretty close. But it was comfortable when we were sitting. Everything is right there. This one had a big uh…cabin (pointing to a pic of a 262)…was also comfortable…it was bigger, we had to get used to it…there was lots of room in there.

Did you ever have to bail out of a 262?

No...I flew home a few times with one engine, you know…but I never bailed out.

You flew home on one engine? That must have been very hard to control?

No… you can change the rudder, uh…the rudder tilt, and the airplane flew still straight, you know…no it wasn’t a problem.

Did you every use flaps only for take off and landing, or did you use them during combat as well for tighter turns?

Not in combat, no…no, never…only for take-off and landing.

How about trim?

Mmm…yeah, perhaps …well…sometimes, yeah… The 262 there was pretty hard on…on pressures… on stick pressure. The control pressure was very high…

It was a bigger control stick, no?

Yeah, yeah…a real long one.

Was that just so you had more movement?

No, you didn’t do much movement, you just had to move the stick a little bit, that’s all.

Were there any tactics that you were trained in using that you thought didn’t work?

…yeah…ahhh, I mean, it didn’t matter…I have 487 combat missions, you know…that’s a lot. You don’t know which one was which. It’s not like the Americans that make thirty missions, and then they go home. As long as you could climb in the airplane, you flew…the reason why we lost so many of the old-timers, you know…they got...worn out and had a very low chance of surviving… (Franz began browsing though the copy of Prien and Rodeike’s I brought with me) I tried to get this book, you know…where did you buy it?

Umm…this one I ordered form the US.

Yeah, it’s a nice book

…It’s called “The Pictorial History of the Me109 F-K series. I got it only about 1 month ago, and it’s very, very good.

(Franz looks through the pictures) Yeah, it’s a German translation…it’s very good…I have some 109 books, you know…(Franz pulls out a few smaller 109 books he has on his massive bookcase)

There’s actually 2 pictures of your plane in this one. (I point out the 2 pics on pg. 128. Franz continues to study the photos). Did you ever have to belly land?

11 times I had to…

In the handbook/flight manual, it says to never release the landing gear…why is that?

You somersault…if there were fairly fair sized fields, you know…then it was never a problem…especially as the glider planes I flew…they were all the same…it was a little faster…

How many planes did you go through?

About 18 maybe...

You said you flew the K-4?

Yeah…I didn’t like it very much because the tail-wheel was retractable, and most of the time I couldn’t get it out anymore… then…you know, we would just not use it…

Did you find the tail wheel caused a lot of problems when it was down though, with wind resistance?

Oh yeah…The first, uh…262’ s we had, had a tail wheel…and when they took off, after you hit a certain speed… shot on the breaks a little bit, and the tail came up, you know.

Do you mind if I take some pictures of your place here? (Of course is where my digital camera decides to mess up on me. Luckily I had a regular camera in the car, but only enough for 4 pictures I later realized).

No, go ahead…

How did you get this, this panel here?

I had it given to me…by Galland…

What do you do in your spare time now?

Now? Oh, I have no spare time…right now I built my bench in my shop out there…I was given a big model of the Go229, I don’t know which one, but you know this airplane? (Franz shows me a picture of the Go229 from one of his many aircraft books) This…omni wing. I flew it only as a glider plane…and one of my pilots, he was testing it…and he killed himself…he was an old fighter pilot too, and he flew all those wingless planes of this sort…

Wow…

…What was left over from this airplane the American’s took with them. At the end of the war there was…there just building a few yet, and…the Americans took them with them…the B-2 was built after this one here…There’s a new one coming out now, a space thing…the Lufthansa designed one…and ah, the Lufthansa…built and designed this airplane which is 7 days around the world with one gas…I met this girl who was flying it…

[bobbysocks]

a cool story of a b 17 crash ..

On the morning of November 15, 1944 a B-17G bomber (AAF Serial Number 42-9772, nicknamed ‘NONE’ of the 301st bomb group, 352nd squadron) crashed over the Austrian Alps. The aircraft and crew of 10 American airmen were returning to Lucera, Italy, following a successful bombing mission of Linz Tank Works, Austria.

http://www.kleinsoelk.at/flugzeugabsturz_eng.html

[Rambo Rich 360]

This is good stuff! Thanks again for posting all this, it is greatly appreciated. Makes for a pretty awesome read.

[bobbysocks]

IT WAS A FORTRESS COMING HOME
They Could Hear It Before They Could See it
By Allen Ostrom

They could hear it before they could see it!

Not all that unusual in those days as the personnel at Station 131 gathered around the tower and scattered hardstands to await the return of the B-17’s sent out earlier that morning.

First comes the far off rumble and drone of the Cyclones. Then a spec on the East Anglia horizon. Soon a small cluster indicating the lead squadron. Finally, the group.

Then the counting. 1-2-3-4-5…..

But that would have been normal. Today was different! It was too early for the group to return.

“They’re 20 minutes early. Can’t be the 398th.”

They could hear it before they could see it! Something was coming home. But what?

All eyes turned toward the northeast, aligning with the main runway, each ground guy and stood-down airman straining to make out this “wail of a Banshee,” as one called it.

Not like a single B-17 with its characteristic deep roar of the engines blended with four thrashing propellers. This was a howl! Like a powerful wind blowing into a huge whistle.

Then it came into view. It WAS a B-17!

Low and pointing her nose at the 6,000 foot runway, it appeared for all the world to be crawling toward the earth, screaming in protest.

No need for the red flares. All who saw this Fort knew there was death aboard.

“Look at that nose!” they said as all eyes stared in amazement as this single, shattered remnant of a once beautiful airplane glided in for an unrealistic “hot” landing. She took all the runway as the “Banshee” noise finally abated, and came to an inglorious stop in the mud just beyond the concrete runway.

Men and machines raced to the now silent and lonely aircraft. The ambulance and medical staff were there first. The fire truck….ground and air personnel….jeeps, truck, bikes…..

Out came one of the crew members from the waist door, then another. Strangely quiet. The scene was almost weird. Men stood by as if in shock, not knowing whether to sing or cry.

Either would have been acceptable.

The medics quietly made their way to the nose by way of the waist door as the remainder of the crew began exiting. And to answer the obvious question, “what happened?”

“What happened?” was easy to see. The nose was a scene of utter destruction. It was as though some giant aerial can opener had peeled the nose like an orange, relocating shreads of metal, plexiglass, wires and tubes on the cockpit windshield and even up to the top turret. The left cheek gun hung limp, like a broken arm.

One man pointed to the crease in chin turret. No mistaking that mark! A German 88 anti-aircraft shell had exploded in the lap of the togglier.

This would be George Abbott of Mt. Labanon, PA. He had been a waist gunner before training to take over the bombardier’s role.

Still in the cockpit, physically and emotionally exhausted, were pilot Larry deLancey and co-pilot Phil Stahlman.

Navigator Ray LeDoux finally tapped deLancey on the shoulder and suggested they get out. Engineer turret gunner Ben Ruckel already had made his way to the waist was exiting along with radio operator Wendell Reed, ball turret gunner Al Albro, waist gunner Russell Lachman and tail gunner Herbert Guild.

Stahlman was flying his last scheduled mission as a replacement for regular co-pilot, Grady Cumbie. The latter had been hospitalized the day before with an ear problem. Lachman was also a “sub,” filling in for Abbott in the waist.

DeLancey made it as far as the end of the runway, where he sat down with knees drawn up, arms crossed and head down. The ordeal was over, and now the drama was beginning a mental re-play.

Then a strange scene took place.

Group CO Col. Frank P. Hunter had arrived after viewing the landing from the tower and was about to approach deLancey. He was physically restrained by flight surgeon Dr. Robert Sweet.

“Colonel, that young man doesn’t want to talk now. When he is ready you can talk to him, but for now leave him alone.”

Sweet handed pills out to each crew member and told them to go to their huts and sleep.

No dramatics, no cameras, no interviews. The crew would depart the next day for “flak leave” to shake off the stress. And then be expected back early in November. (Just in time to resume “normal” activities on a mission to Merseburg!)

Mission No. 98 from Nuthampstead had begun at 0400 that morning of October 15, 1944. It would be Cologne (again), led by CA pilots Robert Templeman of the 602nd, Frank Schofield of the 601st and Charles Khourie of the 603rd.

Tragedy and death appeared quickly and early that day. Templeman and pilot Bill Scott got the 602nd off at the scheduled 0630 hour, but at approximately 0645 Khouri and pilot Bill Meyran and their entire crew crashed on takeoff in the town of Anstey. All were killed. Schofield and Harold Stallcup followed successfully with the 601st, with deLancey flying on their left wing in the lead element.

The ride to the target was routine, until the flak started becoming “unroutinely” accurate.

“We were going through heavy flak on the bomb run,” remembered deLancey.

“I felt the plane begin to lift as the bombs were dropped, then all of a sudden we were rocked by a violent explosion. My first thought – ‘a bomb exploded in the bomb bay’ – was immediately discarded as the top of the nose section peeled back over the cockpit blocking the forward view.”

“It seemed like the whole world exploded in front of us,” added Stahlman. “The instrument panel all but disintegrated and layers of quilted batting exploded in a million pieces. It was like a momentary snowstorm in the cockpit.”

It had been a direct hit in the nose. Killed instantly was the togglier, Abbott. Navigator LeDoux, only three feet behind Abbott, was knocked unconscious for a moment, but was miraculously was alive.

Although stunned and bleeding, LeDoux made his way to the cockpit to find the two pilots struggling to maintain control of an airplane that by all rights should have been in its death plunge. LeDoux said there was nothing anyone could do for Abbott, while Ruckel opened the door to the bomb bay and signaled to the four crewman in the radio room that all was OK – for the time being.

The blast had torn away the top and much of the sides of the nose. Depositing enough of the metal on the windshield to make it difficult for either of the pilots to see.

“The instrument panel was torn loose and all the flight instruments were inoperative with the exception of the magnetic compass mounted in the panel above the windshield. And its accuracy was questionable. The radio and intercom were gone, the oxygen lines broken, and there was a ruptured hydraulic line under my rudder pedals,” said deLancey.

All this complicated by the sub-zero temperature at 27,000 feet blasting into the cockpit.

“It was apparent that the damage was severe enough that we could not continue to fly in formation or at high altitude. My first concern was to avoid the other aircraft in the formation, and to get clear of the other planes in case we had to bail out. We eased out of formation, and at the same time removed our oxygen masks as they were collapsing on our faces as the tanks were empty.”

At this point the formation continued on its prescribed course for home – a long, slow turn southeast of Cologne and finally westward.

DeLancey and Stahlman turned left, descending rapidly and hoping, they were heading west. (And also, not into the gun sights of German fighters.) Without maps and navigation aids, they had difficulty getting a fix. By this time they were down to 2,000 feet.

“We finally agreed that we were over Belgium and were flying in a southwesterly direction,” said the pilot.

“About this time a pair of P-51’s showed up and flew a loose formation on us across Belgium. I often wondered what they thought as they looked at the mess up front.”

“We hit the coast right along the Belgium-Holland border, a bit farther north than we had estimated. Ray said we were just south of Walcheren Island.”

Still in an area of ground fighting, the plane received some small arms fire. This gesture was returned in kind by Albro, shooting from one of the waist guns.

“We might have tried for one of the airfields in France, but having no maps this also was questionable. Besides, the controls and engines seemed to be OK, so I made the decision to try for home.”

“Once over England, LeDoux soon picked up landmarks and gave me course corrections taking us directly to Nuthampstead. It was just a great bit of navigation. Ray just stood there on the flight deck and gave us the headings from memory.”

Nearing the field, Stahlman let the landing gear down. That was an assurance. But a check of the hydraulic pump sent another spray of oil to the cockpit floor. Probably no brakes!

Nevertheless, a flare from Ruckel’s pistol had to announce the “ready or not” landing. No “downwind leg” and “final approach” this time. Straight in!

“The landing was strictly by guess and feel,” said DeLancey. “Without instruments, I suspect I came in a little hot. Also, I had to lean to the left to see straight ahead. The landing was satisfactory, and I had sufficient braking to slow the plane down some. However, as I neared the taxiway, I could feel the brakes getting ‘soft’. I felt that losing control and blocking the taxiway would cause more problems than leaving the plane at the end of the runway.”

That consideration was for the rest of the group. Soon three squadrons of B-17’s would be returning, and they didn’t need a derelict airplane blocking the way to their respective hardstands.

Stahlman, supremely thankful that his career with the 398th had come to an end, soon returned home and in due course became a captain with Eastern Airlines. Retired in 1984, Stahlman said his final Eastern flight “was a bit more routine” than the one 40 years before.

DeLancey and LeDoux received decorations on December 11, 1944 for their parts in the October 15 drama. DeLancey was awarded the Silver Star for his “miraculous feat of flying skill and ability” on behalf of General Doolittle, CO of the Eighth Air Force. LeDoux for his “extraordinary navigation skill”, received the Distinguished Flying Cross.




The following deLancey 1944 article was transcribed from the 398th BG Historical Microfilm. Note: due to wartime security, Nuthampstead is not mentioned, and the route deLancey flew home is referred to in general terms.

TO: STARS AND STRIPES
FOR GENERAL RELEASE

AN EIGHTH AIR FORCE BOMBER STATION, ENGLAND - After literally losing the nose of his B-17 Flying Fortress as the result of a direct hit by flak over Cologne, Germany on October 15, 1944, 1st Lt. Lawrence M. deLancey, 25, of Corvallis, Oregon returned to England and landed the crew safely at his home base. Each man walked away from the plane except the togglier, Staff Sergeant George E. Abbott, Mt. Lebanon, Pennsylvania, who was killed instantly when the flak struck.

It was only the combined skill and teamwork of Lt. deLancey and 2nd Lt. Raymond J. LeDoux, of Mt. Angel, Oregon, navigator, that enabled the plane and crew to return safely.

“Just after we dropped our bombs and started to turn away from the target”, Lt. deLancey explained, “a flak burst hit directly in the nose and blew practically the entire nose section to threads. Part of the nose peeled back and obstructed my vision and that of my co-pilot, 1st Lt. Phillip H. Stahlman of Shippenville, Pennsylvania. What little there was left in front of me looked like a scrap heap. The wind was rushing through. Our feet were exposed to the open air at nearly 30,000 feet above the ground the temperature was unbearable.

“There we were in a heavily defended flak area with no nose, and practically no instruments. The instrument panel was bent toward me as the result of the impact. My altimeter and magnetic compass were about the only instruments still operating and I couldn’t depend on their accuracy too well. Naturally I headed for home immediately. The hit which had killed S/Sgt. Abbott also knocked Lt. LeDoux back in the catwalk (just below where I was sitting). Our oxygen system also was out so I descended to a safe altitude.

“Lt. LeDoux who had lost all his instruments and maps in the nose did a superb piece of navigating to even find England.”

During the route home flak again was encountered but due to evasive action Lt. deLancey was able to return to friendly territory. Lt. LeDoux navigated the ship directly to his home field.

Although the plane was off balance without any nose section, without any brakes (there was no hydraulic pressure left), and with obstructed vision, Lt. deLancey made a beautiful landing to the complete amazement of all personnel at this field who still are wondering how the feat was accomplished.

The other members of the crew include:

Technical Sergeant Benjamin H. Ruckel, Roscoe, California, engineer top turret gunner;
Technical Sergeant Wendell A. Reed, Shelby, Michigan, radio operator gunner;
Technical Sergeant Russell A. Lachman, Rockport, Mass., waist gunner;
Staff Sergeant Albert Albro, Antioch, California, ball turret gunner and
Staff Sergeant Herbert D. Guild, Bronx, New York, tail gunner.

[bobbysocks]

you always wonder what its like to fly them for real...here a guy got to check out a rata and tells all about it.

Aircraft from the Spanish Civil War 1930’s have always had a special appeal to me. I was particularly intrigued by tales of violent, dangerous close-in dog-fights between early 109’s, Fiat CR32s and the Polikarpov series fighters, Ratas, Chatos and Chaikas.

Of course the pre-war types are impossibly rare. I remember talking with Robs Lamplough soon after one of his warbirds recovery coup’s of the late 1970’s and early 80’s and him telling me about a Rata which had reputedly been belly landed on a remote hillside in Spain and which was still lying there in dilapidated but complete condition. I felt almost desperate with excitement to attempt to retrieve and rebuild this aircraft.

Nearly fifteen reasonably maturing years later, how incredible then to arrive at a high, dusty, mountainous airfield to see a flight of Ratas sitting outside, cockpit doors opened and straps set as if they were ready to take off for one last duel. This was the remarkable and very exciting sight greeting my father and me when we arrived once more at Tim Wallis’ Alpine Fighter Collection in Wanaka, New Zealand.

Tim and his chief engineer, Ray Mulqueen, encountered a great deal of difficulty in fulfilling Tim’s objective in rebuilding six original Ratas and three Chaikas (the gull wing biplane comrade to the Rata) in Russia. But finally after five years of work, here at last were the first half of his Russian squadron.

The Rata looks extremely racy. It is very small and overpowered for its time. Russian pilots more used to biplanes, looked with horror at the tiny wings and lack of flaps (in the later variants). Modern pilots also look at the same features with raised eyebrows and a certain amount of trepidation. These features plus the almost full span ailerons ("must roll like hell"), lack of trimmers, an undercarriage retraction system looking like a winch from a boat, an appalling view forward in a three point attitude, plus not an English caption in sight, all promised a fairly exciting ride ahead.

As you approach the aeroplane and begin a walk round, you immediately notice the ply/beech wooden fuselage which is very well finished and extremely strong. You also notice with some surprise, the fabric covered metal construction of the wings and again the huge ailerons (most Russian aeroplanes roll very well).

Other unusual features are the very delicate looking undercarriage complete with wire and cables for retraction leading up in to the guts of the aeroplane, numerous exhaust stubs emanating all around the cowling, big two bladed propeller with little ground clearance to absorb all the power from the ASh 62 IR 1,000 horsepower motor, cowl flaps are in the front of the cowlings (good for Russia but not needed in New Zealand in early summer). The cockpit is protected by a tiny windscreen and small side doors similar to the Spitfire but on both sides of the fuselage and of course, no canopy.

Climbing on board, the blended wood fuselage is very smooth and you need care to mount the aeroplane in a dignified manner. Once sat down, you are aware that the ground angle is extreme and that the view forwards is very poor. In comparison the visibility over the nose in a Spitfire or a P-51 is fantastic. In fact, in the Rata it is worse than the Me109. The next problem is that if you choose to sit high in order to see out, the small curved cockpit doors are so tight when you close them that you now almost have to sit sideways to fit in! In conclusion, you simply end up sitting low! Having said that, there is a quaint translated note from the Russian test pilot which states "do not be shy or embarrassed to open the side doors in flight prior to landings to help you see out".

Once finally settled in the aeroplane and looking around left to right you see in order, an emergency fuel shut-off cock, "wobble pump", throttle and mixture controls together both working in the conventional sense and a little further forward the carb heat and prop lever co-located.

The main instrument panel is well appointed with all the standard instruments (although there is no artificial horizon). As with most Russian aeroplanes, there are a bank of switches used to ’arm’ systems and to provide electrical power to them (such as fire system, turn and slip indicator, engine instruments etc.). In addition starter energiser and engage switches (on a fly wheel system a bit like the T6), plus primer, gear lights, fuel gauge and an odd pull push handle to make it read. Other peculiarities to Westerners include ASI in km/h, plus boost/manifold pressure in mm of mercury giving 0 boost at 760mm. The pilot’s straps are superb and really keep you firmly glued to the seat.

Starting the Rata is simple. Mixture on, throttle set, wobble a bit - get some fuel pressure, prime five or six shots, energise the fly wheel, noise builds to a high pitch - engage and mags on and she’ll fire. The noise from the multiple exhaust stacks is spectacular and very satisfying. In sympathy, white smoke coughs and belches randomly from the engine. The noise and vibration levels are very similar to the Yak 11. It’s good practice to warm up to 600 to 700 RPM for a minute and then gently increase to 1000 RPM.

The next parameters to look for are 120 degrees cylinder head temperature and 50 degrees in the oil, prior to checking the engine. Once the cylinder head and oil is increasing, you can start a gentle taxi - the brakes are not spectacularly good and taxying is best achieved by power, rudder and judicious amount of forward stick to turn. If you keep the stick back - the elevator grinds the tail wheel hard against the dirt and you will drive along in straight lines all day!

At the hold, with the temperatures and pressures in the green, you stand on the brakes and start to increase power, hoping to get 760mm and about 2000 / 2100 RPM. There is a good chance the brakes will start to slip beforehand - say at 1700 - 1800 RPM, so cycle the prop back and forth slowly once, twice and more quickly a third time. Check the mags - not less that 100 drop per side.

Next the simple pre take-off checks consist of Trim - N/A; Throttle Friction - tight; Mixture - rich; Pitch - full fine; Fuel contents, pressure, primer; Flaps - N/A; Gills - open; Oil cooler - open; Gyros - set; Instruments in the green; oxygen - N/A; Hood - N/A; Harness - tight and secure; Hydraulics - N/A (brakes holding?); Controls - full and free.

It’s time to go - the power can be applied quite aggressively and you can keep it coming to 820mm & 2250RPM. The increase in noise is fantastic and it is possible to lift the tail quickly to vaguely see where you’re going - you need to have the horizon cutting the 10.55 and 1.10 position on the forward cowling. There is very little tendency to swing and she runs pretty much straight as an arrow, although the rough Wanaka grass gives a harsh ride to the hard sprung oleos, the Rata and you!

If you have not figured it out before, it is now that you realise that excellent goggles are a must!! With a ground roll of about 400 yards and the smallest of rotations suddenly she’s airborne and with a quick glance down you see the speed very rapidly at 200 km/h which is both the best climb and gear up speed. The Russian test pilots recommend gear retraction not before 1000 metres!! This is rather conservative - but with good reason - getting the gear up is a bit of an epic.

Power back now to max continuous 2000 & 760mm and holding the nose up to contain the speed at 200 km/h. Holding it down low after take off and snappy gear retractions are not the Rata’s forte. There is warm buffeting air everywhere, but the aeroplane immediately feels right. With a positive rate of climb it is time to sort the gear out. Check the "brake spring" is set - check the handle lock is released (allows the retraction handle to rotate) select another handle for the "hoist" ratchet gear to the up position and then start to crank like mad!! 44 turns later you can see the wheels entering the belly of the aeroplane underneath you - suddenly the handle stiffens, a last turn or half turn and "hurrah" 2 red lights telling you the wheels are up.

By now we’re at 2000 feet and it is noticeably warmer in the cockpit. Power back to 1900 & 680 mm and the speed builds to 350-360km/h. Temperatures and pressures are good, with the oil temperature stable at 75 degrees and the cylinder head temperature at 180. How does she feel? We’re holding a slight push force on the stick (remember no elevator trim) - roll rate is excellent and very positive - about 100 -120 degrees per second. Pitch is also very effective and the Rata is delightful in aerobatics - although as speed increases in the dive, passing 400 km/h the push force on the stick reduces to 0 and then as 430 km/h is reached, a very slight pull force is required - something that needs a little care running in low level for the start of a display. The aeroplane accelerates very quickly in the dive and when seen from the ground, appears extremely fast. Stalling in manoeuvre gives plenty of warning with pronounced tail buffeting before she drops the left hand wing quite progressively and definitely not violently.

The aeroplane delights in reversing from a max. rate turn in one direction rapidly to the other. You can see that this is a superb close in dogfighter. The delightful handling characteristics, plus the open cockpit, vibrations and noise provide a very exciting ride. Rolling requires little rudder input to stay balanced. I have the feeling that you could snap roll the Rata deliberately very precisely. Vertical performance is excellent and with excess energy pulling up and unloading straight up in to the vertical produces spectacular performance.

Stalling clean and dirty, is an interesting experience - below 250 km/h you are holding a pull force which is slightly perturbing until you get used to it. She stalls slower clean than with the gear down! Stall is at about 135-140 km/h and again is very gentle power off with a gentle wing drop that stops immediately when back stick is released.

It is back in the circuit that the work load goes up again. You need to select the gear selector down, release the handle lock, grab hold of the gear crank handle very positively, select up slightly to release the up locks - then very carefully start to crank down. The handle will immediately start to try to run away and you must keep hold of it (it’s not that difficult) whilst the gear, aided by the airflow, comes down through the same 44 turns (only much easier than up).

As soon as the wheels break from the underside of the wings, the through draft of air up through the cockpit starts the same buffeting as before. Finally 2 greens and you are now down wind at 200 km/h, holding a pull force and starting to turn finals. I have to say that it is here that I least like the Rata - landing on Wanaka’s narrow grass, concentrates the mind and the problem is that if you three point the aeroplane - the view forwards is really terrible. It would be fine at Duxford or on a wide concrete strip - but otherwise I am sure you are better off wheel landing the Rata. Definitely not something I expected originally. Basically, you should fly a slightly power on "hot" approach speed bleeding through 180km/h to not less than 160 km/h on very short finals to touch for a tail down wheeler. This seems to cause fairly consistently reasonable landings and the landing roll out is still only 500 yards or so, even not using brake. I have to say that, after only 5 sorties, I’m not exactly the prophet when it comes to landing Ratas - it definitely needs a bit of practice.

How do they compare with other WW2 fighters? Well, I believe, very favourably with some of the other aeroplanes. I had just flown a Hurricane for the first time, a week before the Rata and sorry to Hurricane aficionados, but I was really surprised and disappointed in the aeroplane’s handling and performance (although very interesting and lovely to fly the type). I felt that you would be better off fighting in a Rata. At any rate I felt quickly far more comfortable in it. In air combat against early low powered 109’s, I would suspect that the two aircraft were very comparable. Later variants of the Messerschmitt would easily be able to dictate the fight against the Rata due to the 109’s superior speed and vertical performance.

Considering the Rata was in full squadron service by 1936 and was the first heavily armed, retractable gear, monoplane fighter in the world, it has many merits and surprisingly few vices. It is a real classic in its own right with a European connection and history beyond its combat on the Russian front. I would thoroughly recommend the aeroplane to anyone who would like to own a very reasonably priced exciting example of flying history.

I would like to thank Tim Wallis for letting me fly his Ratas and very much look forward to having a go in the Chaika.
Written by Mark Hanna.

[bobbysocks]

great aviation quotes about combat:

Good flying never killed [an enemy] yet.

— Major Edward 'Mick' Mannock, RAF, ranking British Empire fighter ace of W.W. I. 61 victories.

Once committed to an attack, fly in at full speed. After scoring crippling or disabling hits, I would clear myself and then repeat the process. I never pursued the enemy once they had eluded me. Better to break off and set up again for a new assault. I always began my attacks from full strength, if possible, my ideal flying height being 22,000 ft because at that altitude I could best utilize the performance of my aircraft. Combat flying is based on the slashing attack and rough maneuvering. In combat flying, fancy precision aerobatic work is really not of much use. Instead, it is the rough maneuver which succeeds.

— Colonel Erich 'Bubi' Hartmann, GAF, aka Karaya One, worlds leading ace, with 352 victories in W.W.II.Jagdgeschwader 52.

Men were going to die in the air as they had for centuries on the ground and on the seas, by killing each other. The conquest of the air was truly accomplished.

— René Chambe, 'Au Temps des Carabines.'

Up there the world is divided into bastards and suckers. Make your choice.

— Derek Robinson, 'Piece of Cake.'

A top World War II ace once said that fighter pilots fall into two broad categories: those who go out to kill and those who, secretly, desperately, know they are going to get killed—the hunters and the hunted.

— General Nathan F. Twinning, USAF

I belong to a group of men who fly alone. There is only one seat in the cockpit of a fighter airplane. There is no space alotted for another pilot to tune the radios in the weather or make the calls to air traffic control centers or to help with the emergency procedures or to call off the airspeed down final approach. There is no one else to break the solitude of a long cross-country flight. There is no one else to make decisions.
I do everything myself, from engine start to engine shutdown. In a war, I will face alone the missiles and the flak and the small-arms fire over the front lines.
If I die, I will die alone.

— Richard Bach, 'Stranger to the Ground,' 1963.

The more mechanical becomes the weapons with which we fight, the less mechanical must be the spirit which controls them.

— Field Marshal Archibald P. Wavell.

I mean, I had fast motor cars and fast motor bikes, and when I wasn't crashing airplanes, I was crashing motor bikes. It's all part of the game.

— Sir Harry Broadhurst, RAF, 12 victories WWII.

I wish to have no connection with any ship that does not sail fast for I intend to go in harm's way.

— Captain John Paul Jones, in a letter to le Ray de Chaumont, 16 November 1778.

The hunters are the ones who go out and kill. Maybe one out of ten good fighter pilots will be one of the hunters.

— Jack Ilfrey, USAAF, 8 victories WWII.

To the aircraft I aim, not the man.

— Francesco Baracca, Italy's leading ace of WWI, in Italian "è all'apparecchio che io miro non all'uomo," the prancing horse emblem he sported on his aircraft was used by Enzo Ferrari on his cars. Corpo Aeronautico Militare, 34 victories WWI.

It was war. We were defending our country. We had a strict code of honor: you didn't shoot down a cripple and you kept it a fair fight.

— Captain Wilfrid Reid 'Wop' May, RFC, 13 victories WWI.

I hate to shoot a Hun down without him seeing me, for although this method is in accordance with my doctrine, it is against what little sporting instincts I have left.

— James McCudden, VC, RFC, 1917.

My habit of attacking Huns dangling from their parachutes led to many arguments in the mess. Some officers, of the Eton and Sandhurst type, thought it was 'unsportsmanlike' to do it. Never having been to a public school, I was unhampered by such considerations of form. I just pointed out that there was a bloody war on, and that I intended to avenge my pals.

— Captain James Ira Thomas 'Taffy' Jones, RFC, 37 victories in 3 months W.W.I.

Fight on and fly on to the last drop of blood and the last drop of fuel, to the last beat of the heart.

— Baron Manfred von Richthofen.

Fighting in the air is not sport. It is scientific murder.

— Captain Edward V. 'Eddie' Rickenbacker, USAS, 'Fighting the Flying Circus.'

The first time I ever saw a jet, I shot it down.

— General Chuck Yeager, USAF, describing his first confrontation with a Me262.

Of all my accomplishments I may have achieved during the war, I am proudest of the fact that I never lost a wingman.

— Colonel Erich 'Bubi' Hartmann, GAF.

It was my view that no kill was worth the life of a wingman. . . . Pilots in my unit who lost wingmen on this basis were prohibited from leading a [section]. The were made to fly as wingman, instead.

— Colonel Erich 'Bubi' Hartmann, GAF.

The wingman is absolutely indispensable. I look after the wingman. The wingman looks after me. It's another set of eyes protecting you. That the defensive part. Offensively, it gives you a lot more firepower. We work together. We fight together. The wingman knows what his responsibilities are, and knows what mine are. Wars are not won by individuals. They're won by teams.

— Lt. Col. Francis S. "Gabby" Gabreski, USAF, 28 victories in WWII and 6.5 MiGs over Korea.

There is a peculiar gratification on receiving congratulations from one's squadron for a victory in the air. It is worth more to a pilot than the applause of the whole outside world. It means that one has won the confidence of men who share the misgivings, the aspirations, the trials and the dangers of aeroplane fighting.

— Captain Edward V. 'Eddie' Rickenbacker, USAS.

And I have yet to find one single individual who has attained conspicuous success in bringing down enemy aeroplanes who can be said to be spoiled either by his successes or by the generous congratulations of his comrades. If he were capable of being spoiled he would not have had the character to have won continuous victories, for the smallest amount of vanity is fatal in aeroplane fighting. Self-distrust rather is the quality to which many a pilot owes his protracted existence.

— Captain Edward V. 'Eddie' Rickenbacker, USAS, 'Fighting the Flying Circus.'

Nothing makes a man more aware of his capabilities and of his limitations than those moments when he must push aside all the familiar defenses of ego and vanity, and accept reality by staring, with the fear that is normal to a man in combat, into the face of Death.

— Major Robert S. Johnson, USAAF.

The duty of the fighter pilot is to patrol his area of the sky, and shoot down any enemy fighters in that area. Anything else is rubbish.

— Baron Manfred von Richthofen, 1917. Richtofen would not let members of his Staffel strafe troops in the trenches.

Anybody who doesn't have fear is an idiot. It's just that you must make the fear work for you. Hell when somebody shot at me, it made me madder than hell, and all I wanted to do was shoot back.

— Brigadier General Robin Olds, USAF.

The most important thing in fighting was shooting, next the various tactics in coming into a fight and last of all flying ability itself.

— Lt. Colonel W. A. 'Billy' Bishop, RCAF.

In nearly all cases where machines have been downed, it was during a fight which had been very short, and the successful burst of fire had occurred within the space of a minute after the beginning of actual hostilities.

— Lt. Colonel W. A. 'Billy' Bishop, RCAF.

You must take the war to the enemy. You must attack and go on attacking all the time.

— Major Willy Omer François Jean Coppens de Houthulst, Belgian Air Service, 37 victories W.W.I..

I fly close to my man, aim well and then of course he falls down.

— Captain Oswald Boelcke, probably the world's first ace.

Aerial gunnery is 90 percent instinct and 10 percent aim.

— Captain Frederick C. Libby, RFC.

I had no system of shooting as such. It is definitely more in the feeling side of things that these skills develop. I was at the front five and a half years, and you just got a feeling for the right amount of lead.

— Lt. General Guenther Rall, GAF.

When one has shot down one's first, second or third opponent, then one begins to find out how the trick is done.

— Baron Manfred von Richtofen.

I put my bullets into the target as if I placed them there by hand.

— Capitaine René Paul Fonck, French Air Service, 75 victories W.W.I..

You can have computer sights of anything you like, but I think you have to go to the enemy on the shortest distance and knock him down from point-blank range. You'll get him from in close. At long distance, it's questionable.

— Colonel Erich 'Bubi' Hartmann, GAF.

I am not a good shot. Few of us are. To make up for this I hold my fire until I have a shot of less than 20 degrees deflection and until I'm within 300 yards. Good discipline on this score can make up for a great deal.

— Lt. Colonel John C. Meyer, USAAF.

Go in close, and when you think you are too close, go in closer.

— Major Thomas B. 'Tommy' McGuire, USAAF.

I opened fire when the whole windshield was black with the enemy . . . at minimum range . . . it doesn't matter what your angle is to him or whether you are in a turn or any other maneuver.

— Colonel Erich 'Bubi' Hartmann, GAF.

As long as I look into the muzzles, nothing can happen to me. Only if he pulls lead am I in danger.

— Captain Hans-Joachim Marseille, Luftwaffe.

Everything in the air that is beneath me, especially if it is a one-seater . . . is lost, for it cannot shoot to the rear.

— Baron Manfred von Richthofen

I started shooting when I was much too far away. That was merely a trick of mine. I did not mean so much as to hit him as to frighten him, and I succeeded in catching him. He began flying curves and this enabled me to draw near.

— Baron Manfred von Richthofen

A fighter without a gun . . . is like an airplane without a wing.

— Brigadier General Robin Olds, USAF.

See, decide, attack, reverse.

— Colonel Erich 'Bubi' Hartmann, GAF.

I'm waiting to be told how cobras, hooks, or vectored thrust help in combat. They're great at air shows, but zero energy is a fighter pilot's nightmare. Shoot your opponent down and his number two will be on your tail thinking it's his birthday — a target hanging there in the sky with zero energy.

— Ned Firth, Eurofighter

So it was that the war in the air began. Men rode upon the whirlwind that night and slew and fell like archangels. The sky rained heroes upon the astonished earth. Surely the last fights of mankind were the best. What was the heavy pounding of your Homeric swordsmen, what was the creaking charge of chariots, besides this swift rush, this crash, this giddy triumph, this headlong sweep to death?

— H. G. Wells, 'The World Set Free,' 1914.

I was a pilot flying an airplane and it just so happened that where I was flying made what I was doing spying.

— Francis Gary Power, U-2 reconnaissance pilot held by the Soviets for spying, in an interview after he was returned to the US.

The Yo-Yo is very difficult to explain. It was first perfected by the well-known Chinese fighter pilot Yo-Yo Noritake. He also found it difficult to explain, being quite devoid of English.

— Squadron Leader K. G. Holland, RAF.

. . . my pilot pointed to his left front and above, and looking in the direction he pointed, I saw a long dark brown form fairly streaking across the sky. We could see that it was a German machine, and when it got above and behind our middle machine, it dived on it for all the world like a huge hawk on a hapless sparrow.

— James McCudden, VC, RFC.

Fighting spirit one must have. Even if a man lacks some of the other qualifications, he can often make up for it in fighting spirit.

— Brigadier General Robin Olds, USAF.

I never went into the air thinking I would lose.

— Commander Randy 'Duke' Cunningham, USN.

Speed is life.

— Anon.

Speed is the cushion of sloppiness.

— Commander William P. 'Willie' Driscoll, USNR.

It is probable that future war will be conducted by a special class, the air force, as it was by the armored Knights of the Middle Ages.

— Brigadier General William 'Billy' Mitchell, 'Winged Defense,' 1924.

Most healthy young men or women from sixteen to forty years of age can be taught to fly an ordinary airplane. A great majority of these may become very good pilots for transport- or passenger-carrying machines in time of peace; but the requirements for a military aviator call for more concentrated physical and mental ability in the individual than has ever been necessary in any calling heretofore.

— Brigadier General William 'Billy' Mitchell, 'Skyways,' 1930.

Their element is to attack, to track, to hunt, and to destroy the enemy. Only in this way can the eager and skillful fighter pilot display his ability. Tie him to a narrow and confined task, rob him of his initiative, and you take away from him the best and most valuable qualities he posses: aggressive spirit, joy of action, and the passion of the hunter.

— General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe.

Aggressiveness was a fundamental to success in air-to-air combat and if you ever caught a fighter pilot in a defensive mood you had him licked before you started shooting.

— Captain David McCampbell, USN, leading U.S. Navy ace in W.W.II.

The smallest amount of vanity is fatal in aeroplane fighting. Self-distrust rather is the quality to which many a pilot owes his protracted existence.

— Captain Edward V. 'Eddie' Rickenbacker.

Fly with the head and not with the muscles. That is the way to long life for a fighter pilot. The fighter pilot who is all muscle and no head will never live long enough for a pension.

— Colonel Willie Bats, GAF, 237 victories, W.W. II.

The air battle is not necessarily won at the time of the battle. The winner may have been determined by the amount of time, energy, thought and training an individual has previously accomplished in an effort to increase his ability as a fighter pilot.

— Colonel Gregory 'Pappy' Boyington, USMC, 26 victories, W.W. II.

The experienced fighting pilot does not take unnecessary risks. His business in to shoot down enemy planes, not to get shot down. His trained hand and eye and judgment are as much a part of his armament as his machine-gun, and a fifty-fifty chance is the worst he will take — or should take — except where the show is of the kind that . . . justifies the sacrifice of plane or pilot.

— Captain Edward V. 'Eddie' Rickenbacker.

There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, which specified that a concern for one's own safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind . . . Orr would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn't, but if he was sane he had to fly them. If he flew them he was crazy and didn't have to; but if he didn't want to he was sane and had to.

— Joseph Heller, Catch 22, 1955.

Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.

— Muhammad Ali (nee Cassius Clay).

A good fighter pilot, like a good boxer, should have a knockout punch . . . You will find one attack you prefer to all others. Work on it till you can do it to perfection . . . then use it whenever possible.

— Captain Reade Tilley, USAAF.

He must have a love of hunting, a great desire to be the top dog.

— Sergei Dolgushin, Russian Air Force, 24 victories WWII.

Know and use all the capabilities in your airplane. If you don't, sooner or later, some guy who does use them all will kick your ass.

— Dave 'Preacher' Pace, USN.



You fight like you train.

— U.S. Navy Fighter Weapons School, TOPGUN.

Fight to fly, fly to fight, fight to win.

— U.S. Navy Fighter Weapons School, TOPGUN.

The first rule of all air combat is to see the opponent first. Like the hunter who stalks his prey and maneuvers himself unnoticed into the most favourable position for the kill, the fighter in the opening of a dogfight must detect the opponent as early as possible in order to attain a superior position for the attack.

— General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe.

If you're in a fair fight, you didn't plan it properly.

— Nick Lappos, Chief R&D Pilot, Sikorsky Aircraft.

The British were sporting. They would accept a fight under almost all conditions.

— Gunther Rall, Luftwaffe, 275 victories.

It's just like being in a knife fight in a dirt-floor bar. If you want to fix a fella, the best way to do it is to get behind him and stick him in the back. It's the same in an air fight. If you want to kill that guy, the best thing to do is get around behind him where he can't see you . . . . and shoot him.

— Captain William O'Brian, 357th Fighter Group, USAAF.

A squadron commander who sits in his tent and gives orders and does not fly, though he may have the brains of Soloman, will never get the results that a man will, who, day in and day out, leads his patrols over the line and infuses into his pilots the 'espirit de corps.'

— Brigadier General William 'Billy' Mitchell, USAS.

The greater issues were beyond us. We sat in a tiny cockpit, throttle lever in one hand, stick in the other. At the end of our right thumb was the firing button, and in each wing were four guns. We aimed through an optical gunsight, a red bead in the middle of a red ring. Our one concern was to boot out the enemy.

— Group Captain Peter Townsend, RAF.

Victory smiles upon those who anticipate the change in the character of war, not upon those who wait to adapt themselves after the changes occur.

— Giulio Douhet, 'The Command of the Air.'

I saw the lightnings gleaming rod.
Reach forth and write upon the sky
The awful autograph of God.

— Joaquin Miller, 'The Ship In The Desert.'


We were stripped down, even the turrets were removed. You were light and real fast, though. Our 12th squadron motto was 'Alone Unarmed Unafraid.' As you can imagine, this actually translated into something more like, 'Alone Unarmed and Scared Shitless.'

— Theodore R. 'Dick' Newell, Korean War pilot, 12th TAC Reconnaissance Squadron, on flying the reconnaissance version of the B-26.


Yea though I fly through the valley of the shadow of death... I fear no evil ... for I fly the biggest, baddest, meanest, fastest motherf***er in the whole damn valley.

— Anon.

In blossom today, then scattered:
Life is so like a delicate flower.
How can one expect the fragrance
To last forever?

— Vice Admiral Ohnishi, Kamikaze Special Attack Force

No guts, no glory. If you are going to shoot him down, you have to get in there and mix it up with him.

— General Frederick C. 'Boots' Blesse, USAF.

I don't mind being called tough, because in this racket it's the tough guys who lead the survivors.

— General Curtis LeMay, USAF.

Watching the Dallas Cowboys perform, it is not difficult to believe that coach Tom Landry flew four-engines bombers during World War II. He was in B-17 Flying Fortresses out of England, they say. His cautious, conservative approach to every situation and the complexity of the plays he sends in do seem to reflect the philosophy of a pilot trained to doggedly press on according to plans laid down before takeoff. I sometimes wonder how the Cowboys would have fared all this years had Tom flown fighters in combat situations which dictated continuously changing tactics.

— Len Morgan, 'View from the Cockpit.'

Everything I had ever learned about air fighting taught me that the man who is aggressive, who pushes a fight, is the pilot who is successful in combat and who has the best opportunity for surviving battle and coming home.

— Major Robert S. Johnson, USAAF.

I think that the most important features of a fighter pilot are aggressiveness and professionalism. They are both needed to achieve the fighter pilot's goal: the highest score within the shortest time, with the least risk to himself and his wingman.

— Colonel Gidi Livni, Israeli Air Force.

The aggressive spirit, the offensive, is the chief thing everywhere in war, and the air is no exception.

— Baron Manfred von Richthofen

Eyesight and seeing the enemy first, or at least in time to take correct tactical maneuvers was very important. However, most important is the guts to plough through an enemy or enemies, and fight it out. There are no foxholes to hide in . . . there is no surrendering. I know of no Navy fighter pilot in the war who turned tail and ran. If one did, he would lose his wings and be booted out of the service for cowardice.

— Richard H. May, USN

There are only two types of aircraft — fighters and targets.

— Doyle 'Wahoo' Nicholson, USMC.

Do unto the other feller the way he'd like to do unto you, an' do it fust [sic].

— E. N. Westcott, 'David Harum.'

The essence of leadership . . . was, and is, that every leader from flight commander to group commander should know and fly his airplanes.

— Air Vice-Marshal J. E. 'Johnnie' Johnson, RAF.

A speck of dirt on your windscreen could turn into an enemy fighter in the time it took to look round and back again. A little smear on your goggles might hide the plane that was coming in to kill you.

— Derek Robinson, 'Piece of Cake.'

There are pilots and there are pilots; with the good ones, it is inborn. You can't teach it. If you are a fighter pilot, you have to be willing to take risks.

— General Robin Olds, USAF.

Today it is even more important to dominate the . . . highly sophisticated weapon systems, perhaps even more important than being a good pilot; to make the best use of this system.

— General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe.

An excellent weapon and luck had been on my side. To be successful, the best fighter pilot needs both.

— General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe.

One of the secrets of air fighting was to see the other man first. Seeing airplanes from great distances was a question of experience and training, of knowing where to look and what to look for. Experienced pilots always saw more than the newcomers, because the later were more concerned with flying than fighting. . . . The novice had little idea of the situation, because his brain was bewildered by the shock and ferocity of the fight.

— Air Vice-Marshal J. E. 'Johnnie' Johnson, RAF.

Only the spirit of attack borne in a brave heart will bring success to any fighter aircraft, no matter how highly developed it may be.

— General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe.

The man who enters combat encased in solid armor plate, but lacking the essential of self-confidence, is far more exposed and naked to death than the individual who subjects himself to battle shorn of any protection but his own skill, his own belief in himself and in his wingman. Righteousness is necessary for one's peace of mind, perhaps, but it is a poor substitute for agility . . . and a resolution to meet the enemy under any conditions and against any odds.

— Major Robert S. Johnson, USAAF.

To be a good fighter pilot, there is one prime requisite — think fast, and act faster.

— Major John T. Godfrey, USAAF.

Mark Twain said, "Courage is the mastery of fear, resistance to fear, not the absence of fear." At times the nearness of death brings an inexplicable exhilaration which starts the adrenaline flowing and results in instant action. The plane becomes an integral part of the pilot's body, it is strapped to his butt, and they become a single fighting machine.

— R. M. Littlefield, 'Double Nickel — Double Trouble.'

Being a stealth pilot is one of the most labor intensive and time constrained types of flying that I know. We have very strict timing constraints: to be where you are supposed to be all the time, exactly on time, and that has to be monitored by the pilot. For example, during a bomb competition in training in the US, I dropped a weapon that landed 0.02 seconds from the desired time, and finished third!

— Lt. Col. Miles Pound, USAF

Two phrases are stamped on the key ring that every new 'Bandit' (a pilot who has soloed in an F-117) receives:
Stealth Equals Death.
When it absolutely, positively has to be taken out overnight.

Ode To The P-38

Oh, Hedy Lamarr is a beautiful gal, and Madeleine Carroll is too,
But you'll find if you query, a different theory amongst any bomber crew
For the loveliest thing of which one could sing (this side of the pearly gates)
Is no blonde or brunette of the Hollywood set -
But an escort of P-38s.

Yes, in the days that have passed,
when the tables were massed with glasses of scotch and champagne,
It's quite true that the sight was a thing of delight us,
intent on feeling no pain.
But no longer the same, nowadays is this game
When we head north for Messina Straits
Take the sparkling wine-every time,
just make mine an escort of P-38s.

Byron, Shelley and Keats ran a dozen dead heats
Describing the views from the hills,
of the valleys in May when the winds gently sway
In the air it's a different story;
We sweat out our track through the fighters and flak
We're willing to split up the glory
Well, they wouldn't reject us, so heaven protect us
and, until all this shooting abates,
Give us courage to fight 'em - one other small item -
an escort of P-38s.

— Frederic Arnold, 'Kohn's War.'

I didn't turn with the enemy pilots as a rule. I might make one turn - to see what the situation was - but not often. It was too risky.

— General John C. Meyer, Vice-Chief of Staff, USAF.

It is generally inadvisable to eject directly over the area you just bombed.

— USAF Manual

Nothing is true in tactics.

— Commander Randy 'Duke' Cunningham, USN, first American ace in Vietnam.

We were too busy fighting to worry about the business of clever tactics.

— Harold Balfour, RAF. W.W.I fighter pilot and British Under-Secretary of State for War.

Beware the lessons of a fighter pilot who would rather fly a slide rule than kick your ass!

— Commander Ron 'Mugs' McKeown, USN, Commander of the U.S. Navy Fighter Weapons School.

For most of the time carrier aviation is more challenging than flying in a spacecraft

— Astronaut James Lovell

Fighter pilots, above all else, know who among their peers are hunters and who are hunted. They absolutely will not fly into a tough combat situation with a wingman they don’t trust and not all men make the cut. Where we work is a vicious place. I’ll attempt to describe it, but the full comprehension comes only in a sky full of hot metal and smart missiles that all seem to be looking at you. You’re in a machine that is so fast and powerful that you intuitively know that if death comes, it will be full of hot fire. Frail human that you are, you will be shredded to pieces. Worst of all, you’ll be alone in a fierce place where your comrades cannot hold you while you die. That is the real environment of a fighter pilot.

— Jerry R Caddick

The ordinary air fighter is an extraordinary man and the extraordinary air fighter stands as one in a million among his fellows.

— Theodore Roosevelt

... a fighter pilot must be free to propose improvements [in tactics] or he will get himself killed.

— Commander Randy 'Duke' Cunningham, USN.

When I took over my wing [in Vietnam], the big talk wasn't about the MIG's, but about the SAM's ... I'd seen enemy planes before, but those damn SAM's were something else. When I saw my first one, there were a few seconds of sheer panic, because that's a most impressive sight to see that thing coming at you. You feel like a fish about to be harpooned. There's something terribly personal about the SAM; it means to kill you and I'll tell you right now, it rearranges your priorities ... We had been told to keep our eyes on them and not to take any evasive move too soon, because they were heat-seeking and they, too would correct, so I waited until it was almost on me and then I rolled to the right and it went on by. It was awe inspiring ... The truth is you never do get used to the SAM's; I had about two hundred fifty shot at me and the last one was as inspiring as the first. Sure I got cagey, and I was able to wait longer and longer, but I never got overconfident. I mean, if you're one or two seconds too slow, you've had the schnitzel.

— General Robin Olds, USAF.

Every day kill just one, rather than today five, tomorrow ten . . . that is enough for you. Then your nerves are calm and you can sleep good, you have your drink in the evening and the next morning you are fit again.

— Colonel Erich 'Bubi' Hartmann, Luftwaffe.

The closest modern equivalent to the Homeric hero is the ace fighter pilot.

— W. H. Auden

To become an ace a fighter must have extraordinary eyesight, strength, and agility, a huntsman's eye, coolness in a pinch, calculated recklessness, a full measure of courage—and occasional luck!

— General Jimmy Doolittle

The most important thing for a fighter pilot is to get his first victory without too much shock.

— Colonel Werner Moelders, Luftwaffe. He got his first victory, and 114 others.

It is true to say that the first kill can influence the whole future career of a fighter pilot. Many to whom the first victory over the opponent has been long denied either by unfortunate circumstances or by bad luck can suffer from frustration or develop complexes they may never rid themselves of again.

— General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe.

It is wonderful how cheered a pilot becomes after he shoots down his first machine; his morale increases by at least 100 percent.

— Captain James Ira Thomas 'Taffy' Jones, RFC, 37 victories in 3 months W.W.I..

I gained in experience with every plane shot down, and now was able to fire in a calm, deliberate manner. Each attack was made in a precise manner. Distance and deflection were carefully judged before firing. This is not something that comes by accident; only by experience can a pilot overcome feelings of panic. A thousand missions could be flown and be of no use if the pilot has not exchanged fire with the enemy.

— Major John T. Godfrey, USAAF.

As a fighter pilot I know from my own experiences how decisive surprise and luck can be for success, which in the long run comes only to the one who combines daring with cool thinking.

— General Adolf Galland, Luftwaffe.

The most important thing to a fighter pilot is speed; the faster an aircraft is moving when he spots an enemy aircraft, the sooner he will be able to take the bounce and get to the Hun. If you have any advantage on him, keep it and use it. When attacking, plan to overshoot him if possible, hold fire until within range, then shoot and clobber him down to the last instant before breaking away. It's like sneaking up behind someone and hitting them with a baseball bat.

— Duane W. Beeson, P-51 pilot, 4th Fighter Group.

Months of preparation, one of those few opportunities, and the judgment of a split second are what makes some pilot an ace, while others think back on what they could have done.

— Colonel Gregory 'Pappy' Boyington, USMC.

How this can happen is a mystery to us.

— Lieutenant-General Ray Henault, Canada's Chief of Defence staff, regards the friendly fire deaths of four Canadian soldiers by a USAF F-16 in Afghanistan, 18 April 2002.

Success flourishes only in perseverance — ceaseless, restless perseverance.

— Baron Manfred von Richthofen

If he is superior then I would go home, for another day that is better.

— Colonel Erich 'Bubi' hartmann, GAF.

If I should come out of this war alive, I will have more luck than brains.

— Captain Manfred Baron von Richtofen, in a letter to his mother upon being decorated with the Iron Cross.

I was struck by the joy of those pilots in committing cold-blooded murder . . . Frankly, this is not cojones. This is cowardice.

— Madeleine Albright, US Ambassador to the UN, 1996, regards Cuban fighters shooting down unarmed American Cessnas.

I scooted for our lines, sticky with fear. I vomited brandy-and-milk and bile all over my instrument panel. Yes, it was very romantic flying, people said later, like a knight errant in the clean blue sky of personal combat.

— attributed to W. W. Windstaff, an alleged pseudonym of an American pilot flying with the British RFC.

There’s something wonderfully exciting about the quiet sing song of an aeroplane overhead with all the guns in creation lighting out at it, and searchlights feeling their way across the sky like antennae, and the earth shaking snort of the bombs and the whimper of shrapnel pieces when they come down to patter on the roof.

— John Dos Passos, letter written in Bossano, Italy while serving in the American Red Cross Ambulance Service to his friend Rumsey Marvin. 18 February 1918.

It was no picnic despite what anyone might say later . . . . Most of us were pretty scared all the bloody time; you only felt happy when the battle was over and you were on your way home, then you were safe for a bit, anyway.

— Colin Gray, 54 Squadron RAF, W.W.II.

There is no question about the hereafter of men who give themselves in such a cause. If I am called upon to make it, I shall go with a grin of satisfaction and a smile.

— Lieutenant David Endicott Putnam, America's first 'Ace of Aces,' in a letter to his mother. He was shot down by German ace Georg von Hantelmann. 12 September 1918

Won't it be nice when all this beastly killing is over, and we can enjoy ourselves and not hurt anyone? I hate this game.

— Captain Albert Ball, RFC, in letters to his father and fiancée. Ball was the first British ace idolized by the public, 44 victories when killed in action. 6 May 1917.

After a scrap I usually drink my tea through a straw.

— Derek Robinson, 'Piece of Cake.'

The heavens were the grandstands and only the gods were spectators. The stake was the world, the forfeit was the player's place at the table, and the game had no recess. It was the most dangerous of all sports and the most fascinating. It got in the blood like wine. It aged men forty years in forty days. It ruined nervous systems in an hour.

— Elliott White Springs, 13 victories WWI.

. . . It is as though horror has frozen the blood in my veins, paralyzed my arms, and torn all thought from my brain with the swipe of a paw. I sit there, flying on, and continue to stare, as though mesmerised, at the Cauldron on my left.

— Ernst Udet, ‘My life as Aviator,’ 1935.

I counted them all out and I counted them all back.

— Brian Hanranan, carefully worded broadcast regards the number of British aeroplanes involved in (and potentially lost in) the raid on Port Stanley. BBC news, 1 May 1982.

I suppose I'm as good as the next guy, but that's about all. Only reason I'm still flying while a lot of other great guys are gone is because I've had the breaks so far. I believe though, that the breaks are going to continue my way. The minute a flyer gets the notion that his number is up, he's finished. I start out, and know I'm coming back, and that's all there is to it.
Fear? You bet your life. But it's always on the way up. Then you get to thinking about a lot of things, but that all leaves you as you reach combat. Then there's a sense of great excitement, a thrill you can't duplicate anywhere. Then there can be no fear, no thought of life or death, no dream of yesterday or tomorrow.
What you have at that moment is — well, it may sound strange, but it's actually fun. The other guy has his chance, too, and you've got to get him before he gets you. Yes, I think it is the most exciting fun in the world.

— Lt. Col. Robert B. "Westy" Westbrook, USAAF, one of the leading aces of the Pacific, 'Los Angeles Examiner,' 20 June 1944.

It got more exciting with each war. I mean the planes were going faster than hell when I was flying a Mustang, but by the time I got to Nam, it scared the piss out of a lot of guys just to fly the damn jets at full speed. Let alone do it in combat.

— Brigadier General Robin Olds, USAF.

He who has the height controls the battle.
He who has the sun achieves surprise.
He who gets in close shoots them down.

— anon.

Dicta Boelcke

Try to secure advantages before attacking. If possible, keep the sun behind you.

Always carry through an attack when you have started it.

Fire only at close range, and only when your opponent is properly in your sights.

Always keep your eye on your opponent, and never let yourself be deceived by ruses.

In any form of attack it is essential to assail your opponent from behind.

If your opponent dives on you, do not try to evade his onslaught, but fly to meet it.

When over the enemy's lines never forget your own line of retreat.

For the Staffel: attack on principle in groups of four or six. When the fight breaks up into a series of single combats, take care that several do not go for one opponent.

— Hauptmann Oswald Boelcke, 1916. Germany's first ace, died in 1916 with 40 victories.

Whatever Boelcke told us was taken as Gospel!

— Baron Manfred von Richthofen

I will be like Boelcke.

— German pilots' motto

Ten of My Rules for Air Fighting

Wait until you see the whites of his eyes.
Fire short bursts of 1 to 2 seconds and only when your sights are definitely 'ON.'

Whilst shooting think of nothing else; brace the whole of the body; have both hands on the stick; concentrate on your ring sight.

Always keep a sharp lookout. "Keep your finger out"!

Height gives you the initiative.

Always turn and face the attack.

Make your decisions promptly. It is better to act quickly even though your tactics are not the best.

Never fly straight and level for more than 30 seconds in the combat area.

When diving to attack always leave a proportion of your formation above to act as top guard.

INITIATIVE, AGGRESSION, AIR DISCIPLINE, and TEAM WORK are words that MEAN something in Air Fighting.

Go in quickly - Punch Hard - Get out!

— Flight Lieutenant Adolphus G. 'Sailor' Malan, RSAAF, August 1941.

Because operators are based thousands of miles away from the battlefield, and undertake operations entirely through computer screens and remote audio-feed, there is a risk of developing a 'PlayStation' mentality to killing.

— Philip Alston, United Nations special rapporteur on extrajudicial killings, report to the UN Human Rights Council, 2 June 2010.

[bobbysocks]

Dicta Boelcke ( expanded )


1. Try to secure advantages before attacking. If possible keep the sun behind you.


*'Advantages' for WWI aircraft included: speed, height, surprise, performance and numbers.

Speed - the pilot with the faster of two machines has control over the combat. He has the choice to break off combat and retire. The slower machine can not catch him. The pilot of a slower machine must stay on the defense. He can not run to safety. A fast moving aircraft can perform elaborate manoeuvres, giving its pilot many options. A machine flying close to its stall speed can do little beyond wallowing in a more or less straight line. Aircraft engines available in 1914 and 1915 provided just enough thrust to keep machines airborne at 80 mph, and not much more. Level flight was fine, but climbing to a higher altitude took several minutes and cut air speed nearly in half. Diving, on the other hand, could add half again to a plane's top speed. By 1916, engine power and speed increased. By the end of the war, aircraft were operating regularly at speeds over 130 mph. Speed was critical.

Height - From the advantage of flying above his opponent, a pilot had more control over how and where the fight takes place. He could dive upon his opponent, gaining a sizable speed advantage for a hit and run attack. Or, if the enemy had too many advantages, numbers for instance, a pilot fly away with a good head start. On average, WWI aircraft climbed slowly. Altitude was a hard earned 'potential energy' store not to be given away capriciously.

Surprise - getting the first shot before one's opponent is prepared to return fire was the 'safest' and preferred method for attack. Most air victories were achieved in the first pass. Without all-seeing devices like radar, a pilot could approach his foe stealthily, using clouds, haze or even using the enemy aircraft's own wings or tail to conceal his approach. The glare of the sun, especially, provided an effective hiding spot.

Performance- Knowing the strengths, weakness and capabilities of your own aircraft, and that of your foe, was also critical. Who was faster, who could turn tighter, how many were there, etc.? He argued against foolish acts of 'heroism.' If he could not 'secure advantages,' he would not attack. One of Boelcke's pupils, Manfred von Richthofen, learned this rule very well and became the war's top scoring ace.

A documented example of Boelcke 'securing advantages' took place on 17 September 1916. Boelcke and his pilots intercepted a flight of bombers and fighters crossing the lines. He chose not to attack right away, but had his Jasta climb higher above the bombers, keeping themselves between the bombers and the sun. There they circled and waited. When the bomber pilots, observers and fighter escort pilots were preoccupied with the destruction they were causing on the ground, Boelcke signaled for his pilots to attack. Several enemy aircraft went down and Jasta 2 lost no one.*


2. Always carry through an attack when you have started it.


*Rookie pilots would start a fight, but instinct (fear) would convince them to break it off and run. This inevitably presented the rookie's tail to his opponent's guns, making the rookie an easy victory for his enemy. Boelcke learned that it was far better to stay and continue mixing it up -- waiting for his opponent to make mistakes or flee -- than to break and run. To turn tail and run was to surrender most, if not all, of the advantages a pilot might have had.

As an example, when Manfred von Richthofen met British ace Lanoe Hawker in November 1916, each persisted in trying to get on the other's tail. Both stuck to Boelcke's second dictum. When their endless circling had brought them down near the ground behind German lines, Hawker had to chose between landing and capture or fleeing. He chose to flee. Richthofen was then able to get behind him and shot him down.*


3. Fire only at close range and only when your opponent is properly in your sights.



*A common rookie's urge was to start blasting away upon sighting his first enemy machine. Shots taken at ranges of 1000 yards stood little chance of hitting their mark. The rattle of machine gun fire would alert the intended target and gave them time to react.

The machine guns available for aircraft during the Great War were not highly accurate at longer ranges. Add to that the difficulty of aiming from a moving, bouncing gun platform at a fast moving target and it is a marvel that anyone ever hit anything. Boelcke preferred to fly to within 100 yards or less before firing, to ensure hitting what he aimed at with his opening burst. Once the rattle of his guns was heard, the advantage of surprise was gone, so it was best to make that first shot most effective.

Another aspect of making each shot count was the limited supply of ammunition carried in WWI aircraft -- usually only several hundred rounds. This could amount to less than 60 seconds of sustained fire. Reloading in the air varied from dangerous to impossible. Spraying the sky with lead in hopes of hitting something, eventually, was not an option. Shots had to be chosen carefully. Early in the war, when a sense of chivalry still held sway, some men allowed their opponents to depart if they were out of ammunition or had jammed guns. Total war did not allow such courtesies to last for long.*


4. Always keep your eye on your opponent, and never let yourself be deceived by ruses.


*The first part, 'keeping your eye on your opponent,' sounds obvious enough, but it needed to be stated. In the hustle and bustle of an air fight it was easy to lose sight of your adversary. A restatement of this rule might be: never assume you know where your opponent is or will be. If a pilot 'lost' his foe, the advantage shifted to the foe. A successful pilot did not allow himself to be distracted from his opponent.

Ruses. It was not an uncommon practice for a pilot to feign being hit, going into a supposedly uncontrolled spin or dive, in order to exit a fight that was not going well. This practice traded on the chivalry of their opponents. To continue hammering a man who was already going down, was thought unsportsmanlike. Boelcke recognized that too many enemy were being allowed to escape and return to fight another day. War for national survival was not sport. He taught against the accepted notion that once a machine began to spin down, that one could move on. If it was a ruse, the enemy pilot would pull out at the last moment and either escape or return to attack, perhaps now having gained the advantage of surprise. Boelcke wanted his pupils to follow their opponent down. Make sure they were out of the fight or resume the fight if necessary.*


5. In any form of attack it is essential to assail your opponent from behind.


*Firing at a machine flying across one's path required 'leading' the shot -- aiming ahead of a moving target to compensate for its speed. While a few pilots were adept at the mental calculations necessary and good areal marksmen, most were much less adept. The velocity of a moving gun platform, the speed of bullets plus the speed and direction of a moving target could be a lot to consider in the heat of battle. Furthermore, in deflection firing, the target could cross the stream of fire whose bullets were 200 feet or more apart. Such crossing gave less exposure to the bullets.

Head-on attacks or head-to-tail attacks required little or no calculated deflection in aim. Head-on attack, however, exposed one directly to the enemy's guns. Far safer and more effective to have one's target and bullet stream all traveling in more or less the same direction. This required little or no 'leading,' and exposed the target to a greater concentration of fire.

Because of the prevalence of attack from the rear, aircraft design adapted to allow for rear firing guns in two-seaters and larger bombers.*


6. If your opponent dives on you, do not try to evade his onslaught, but fly to meet it.


*This rule is related to dictum #2 above. The instinctive reaction of many rookies was to turn and flee from an approaching attacker -- especially a diving one. This simply presented their tail to the attacker, usually with disastrous results. Boelcke taught that a pilot had to conquer that instinct. Turning to face the attack could force the attacker onto the defensive, or at least keep the situation unsettled, which was far better than presenting your tail. Even though climbing to meet an attack would reduce speed, it was better to try to bring one's own guns to bear than flee.*


7. When over the enemy's lines never forget your own line of retreat.


*If a pilot chose to flee a superior force, or was coming down with damaged machine, it was critical to spend what little time he might have going in the right direction. This rule sounds as though it is stating the obvious, but Boelcke found it necessary to include. More than a few pilots came down behind enemy lines because they got confused and lost their way. In WWI, areal navigation was done mostly by sight. Taking regular note of landmarks helped a pilot get his bearings quickly, perhaps making the difference between safety and captivity.*


8. For the Staffel: Attack on principle in groups of four or six. When the fight breaks up into a series of single combats, take care that several do not go for one opponent.


*In the first year or so of WWI, air combat was more of a one-on-one affair. The early aces, like Pegoud, Garros, Boelcke and Immelmann, hunted the skies alone. Later in the war the sheer number of machines in the sky increased. Several reconnaissance machines traveled together for mutual protection, further protected by escorting fighters. Boelcke recognized that the days of the lone hunter were over. Many young pilots, however, still came to the front expecting to dash valiantly into battle alone as an errant knight, only to be quickly overwhelmed by multiple enemies.

Boelcke tirelessly lectured his pupils on the need for teamwork -- sometimes scolding them for acting too independently. Attacking in a group allowed the leader to concentrate his attention exclusively on his target, while his 'wingmen' protected his tail.

Air battles later in the war could involve dozens of aircraft from each side at the same time. The sky could become a swirling tangle of machines. When 'your' side was at a numerical disadvantage, it was especially important not to double up on one opponent. The concentrated fire was of dubious value, since you were just as likely to get in each other's way as hit the enemy. Doubling up also left an enemy machine somewhere unbothered and free to tail one of your side's machines. Later in the war, teamwork became the primary key to success and survival.*

[bobbysocks]

Ilmari Juutilainen - Finland's Ace of Aces

In two wars, Ilmari Juutilainen and his fellow pilots helped preserve their country's independence and taught the Soviet Union a lesson: "If you threaten Finns, they do not become frightened--they become angry. And they never surrender."

Ilmari Juutilainen scored more than 94 victories in two wars, flying Fokker D.XXIs, Brewster B-239s and Messerschmitt Me-109Gs.

Neither Jossif Stalin nor Adolf Hitler regarded their nonaggression pact of August 1939 as anything more than a postponement of inevitable hostilities between the Soviet Union and Nazi Germany. After they had divided up Poland between themselves in September, Hitler became embroiled in a war against Britain and France, while Stalin grabbed what he considered strategic territories adjacent to Russia. One concession Stalin sought was part of Finland's Karelian Isthmus on which he wanted to build air and naval bases. (Stalin`s real plan was to occupy the entire Finland just like the Baltic countries, see Edvard Radzinski`s book "Stalin". FTA remark) When Finland refused to give up her lands the Soviets bombed Helsinki and launched and invasion on November 30, 1939.

The ensuing conflict, known as the Winter War, ended on March 13, 1940, with the Soviet occupation of 10 percent of Finnish land, but not before the Red Army had suffered several humiliating defeats at the hands of the Finns. The Voyenno Vozdushny Sily (Red Army air force, of VVS) had suffered even more disproportionate to the outnumbered but highly skilled pilots of the Suomen Ilmavoimat (the Finnish air force).

Epitomizing the elan and training that made the Ilmavoimat so formidable was Eino Ilmari Juutilainen, whose 94 official victories made him the Finnish ace of aces. In an exclusive interview with Military History editor Jon Guttman, "Illu" Juutilainen described his most notable exploits during the Winter War and in the Continuation War, as Finland called her participation in World War II as a co-belligerent rather than a formal ally of Germany.

Military History: Could you tell us about your prewar background?
Juutilainen: I was born in Lieksa on February 21, 1914, but I spent my childhood in Sortavala. As a teenager I was a member of the Volunteer Maritime Defense Association and we had a fine time sailing at the Laatokka Sea.

MH: What inspired you to take up flying?
Juutilainen: There was an Ilmavoimat base in the middle of our town, and it was a permanent source of interest for all of us youngsters. Many of us became pilots later - for example, my Winter War flight leader and Continuation War squadron commander, Eino "Eikka" Luukkanen. One important inspiration was a book about the Red Baron; Manfred von Richthofen, which my older brother gave me. I remember sitting by the upstairs window, dreaming about aerial maneuvers. I began my national service as an assistant mechanic in the 1st Separate Maritime Squadron from 1932 to 1933, then got a pilot's license in a civilian course. I then joined the Ilmavoimat as a noncommissioned officer and got my military pilot training in the Ilmasotakoulu (Air Force Academy) at Kauhava from 1935 to 1936. I had the opportunity to choose my first assignment, and on February 4, 1937, I went to LeLv (Lentolaivue, or air squadron) 12 at Suur-Merijoki Air Base near Viipuri. In 1938 I went to Utti Air Base and got one year of really tough fighter flying and shooting. Then, on March 3, 1939, I was assigned to LeLv 24, a fighter unit equipped with Dutch-built Fokker D.XXIs, at Utti Air Base.

MH: What was training like in the Ilmavoimat?
Juutilainen: The international trend in the early 1930's was to use a tight, three-plane formation, or "vic", as a basic fighter element. The fighter pilots in Finland knew that they would never get large numbers of fighters , and they considered the large tight formations ineffective. From studies conducted between 1934 - 1935, the Ilmavoimat developed a loose two-plane section as the basic fighter element. Divisions (four fighters) and flights (eight aircraft) were made of loose sections, but always maintaining the independence of the section. The distance between the fighters in the section was 150 - 200 meters, and the distance between sections in a division was 300 - 400 meters. The principle was always to attack, regardless of numbers; that way the larger enemy formation was broken up and combat became a sequence of section duels, in which the better pilots always won. Finnish fighter training heavily emphasized the complete handling of the fighter and shooting accuracy. Even basic training at the Air Force Academy included a lot of aerobatics with all the basic combat maneuvers and aerial gunnery.

MH: What were your feelings when the war broke out on November 30, 1939?
Juutilainen: I was mentally ready, because the signs had been so clear. Still, it was hard to believe that it was really true when we took off on our first intercept mission. I think in general the people were angry. We knew, of course, of Stalin's demands that we give the Soviet Union certain areas to improve Leningrad's security. And our answer was clear enough: No way! The nation's reaction to the war was not analytical - it was emotional. The feeling was, "When I die, there will be many enemies dying, too."

MH: What sort of preparation occurred?
Juutilainen: As the international situation worsened, our defense forces started so-called extra exercises in early October 1939. All fighters and weapons were checked, more ammunition belts loaded, and maintenance equipment and spare parts packed on the lorries to be ready to move. On October 11 we flew from Utti to Immola Air Base, which was nearer the border. Shelters were built for the fighters and we kept flying combat air patrols - careful to stay on our side, so that we didn't provoke the Soviets. The younger pilots got additional training in aerial combat and gunnery. During bad weather we indulged in sports, pistol shooting and discussions about fighter tactics. Our esprit de corps was high despite the fact that we would be up against heavy odds. We were ready.

MH: What was the Fokker D.XXI like to fly?
Juutilainen: It was our best fighter in 1939, but the Soviet Polikarpov I-16 was faster, had better agility and also had protective armor for the pilot. I flew later a war booty I-16, and it did 215 knots at low level and turned around a dime. I liked that plane. In comparison, the Fokker could make about 175. The D.XXI also lacked armor, but it had good diving characteristics and it was a steady shooting platform. I think that our gunnery training made the Fokker a winner in the Winter War.

MH: Can you describe your first fight?
Juutilainen: December 19, 1939, was the first real combat day after a long period of bad weather. I had some trouble starting my engine, and so I got a little behind the rest of my flight. When I was close to Antrea, I got a message of three enemy bombers approaching. After about half a minute, I saw three Ilyushin DB-3s approaching. I was about 1,500 feet above them and started the attack turn just like in gunnery camp at Käkisalmi. The DB-3s immediately dropped their bomb loads in the forest and turned back. I shot the three rear gunners, one by one. Then I started to shoot the engines. I followed them a long way and kept on shooting. One of them nosed over and crashed. The two others were holed like cheese graters but continued in a shallow, smoking descent. I had spent all of my ammunition, so I turned back. There was no special feeling of real combat. Everything went exactly like training.

MH: What were the circumstances of your 1/6 shared victory on December 23?
Juutilainen: At that time, Soviet bombers flew without fighter escort, and that was a typical situation when our flight attacked a formation of Tupolev SB-2s. Several of us shot at several targets, and the kills were then shared, because it was impossible to distinguish a decisive attack. Later, I stopped counting those shared cases and always gave my share to the younger pilot.

MH: What about your first encounter with an I-16 on December 31?
Juutilainen: That was a classic, old time aerial duel. I was initially in a very good position behind that Red pilot, but he saw me and started a hard left turn. I followed, shooting occasionally, testing his nerves. Our speed decreased as we circled tightly under the cloud deck, which was as low as 600 feet. My opponent's fighter was much more agile than mine, and he was gradually gaining the advantage, so I decided to pull a tactical trick on him. As he was getting into my rear sector, I pulled into the cloud, continuing my hard left turn. Once inside it, I rolled to the right and down, out of the cloud. I had estimated right - I was again behind my opponent. When he next saw me, I had already closed to a range of about 100 yards. He apparently decided to outturn me, as he had done before. I put the sight on him and squeezed the trigger. My tracers passed a few yards in front of him, and I eased the stick pressure to adjust my aiming point. My next burst struck his engine, which began to belch smoke. I continued firing, letting the tracers walk along the fuselage. Then once more I pulled hard, taking a proper deflection and shot again. There was a continuous stream of black smoke as the target pitched over and went into the forest.

MH: What other missions did you carry out besides interception?
Juutilainen: Our reconnaissance aircraft were obsolete, so they had to carry out their missions at night or in bad weather, while we flew many daytime reconnaissance missions in our fighters. We also occasionally carried out some ground-attack missions until the last days of the war, when the enemy tried a flanking offensive over the ice of the Gulf of Finland at Viipuri Bay. Those were decisive operations, but for us fighter pilots they were also the most miserable missions of the war, for the Soviets massed their fighters to cover the ground troops. We could achieve surprise by using the weather conditions and coming from different directions every time, quickly attacking over the ice, then fighting our way back to base to rearm and refuel for a new mission. During those missions, I personally fired some 25,000 rounds into the Red Army.

MH: What were your feelings when Finland was forced to accept Soviet terms in the end?
Juutilainen: I was disappointed. We had been able to stop the Soviet offensive, they had gained only a limited land area, and we had inflicted heavy losses on them. Thanks to small losses and deliveries of new Gloster Gladiators, Fiat G.50s and Morane-Saulnier MS 406s, our fighter force was stronger than it had been at the beginning of the war. We felt ourselves winners, but now we had to give them some areas that were firmly in our hands. Later, when the economic situation became clearer, the decision was more understandable. Sweden was neutral, Germany was hostile and support from France and Britain proved to be inadequate. Finland simply did not have enough resources to continue a prolonged campaign alone. Ultimately, the important thing was Finland's independence. We had been fighting to save that, and we had indeed saved it. I think we also taught a lesson to Stalin and company: If you threaten Finns, they do not become frightened - they become angry. And they never surrender.

MH: What did you do between March 1940 and June 1941?
Juutilainen: At the end of March 1940 we flew from our last wartime base, Lemi (which was on the ice of a lake) to Joroinen, where our fighters were overhauled. Then we gave our Fokkers away and began to familiarize ourselves with a new fighter, the Brewster B-239. Some of those planes had already arrived in the last days of the Winter War ( see Brewsters to Finland), and now they were picked up from Trollhättan, Sweden, where Norwegian mechanics were assembling them after sea transport. American test pilot Robert Winston acted as his company's representative in that process. The Brewsters were flown to Malmi Air Base near Helsinki, and our squadron started to operate there. On June 14, 1940, two Soviet bombers shot down one of our airliners over the Gulf of Finland, shortly after it had taken off from Tallinn, Estonia. I was searching for the plane with my Brewster, and I found a Soviet submarine in the middle of aircraft debris, obviously looking for diplomatic mail. In August 1940, we moved to a new base at Vesivehmaa, north of Lahti. There, we tested the Brewster's performance and gunnery characteristics and found both to be quite good. Many pilots put all their bullets in the target. On June 17, we got and order to stay at the base, in continuous readiness, so we guessed that we would be at war rather soon.

MH: What were your impressions of the B-239?
Juutilainen: I started my Brewster flights in the beginning of April 1940, doing all the aerobatics maneuvers, stall and dive tests. I was happy with my Brewster. It was agile, it had 4,5 hours endurance, good weaponry - one 7,62 mm and three 12,7 machine guns - and an armored pilot's seat. It was so much better than the Fokker that it was in another category. If we had had Brewsters during the Winter War, the Russians would have been unable to fly over Finland. It was also a "gentleman's traveling plane", for it had a roomy cockpit and room in the fuselage, as we used to say, for a poker gang. We unofficially transported mechanics, spare parts, oil canisters etc. in our Brewsters. Once, though two pilots went a little too far - a flight sergeant was flying, and in the fuselage was a second lieutenant, his friend, his dog and a lot of baggage. Upon landing the plane went off the runway and the suitcase came out. Both pilots were punished. Humorously, the lieutenant's sentence started with:"As the commander of the crew of a single-seat fighter.."

MH: What was the situation in Finland at the time of the German invasion of the Soviet Union on June 22, 1941?
Juutilainen: It was rather problematic after the Winter War. The Soviet Union continued its pressure, and Vyacheslav Molotov (Soviet commissar for foreign affairs) during his visit to Germany in November 1940 demanded Finland as Russia's share of their 1939 pact. France and Britain were at war, and it was very difficult for Finland to improve her defenses. Then, rather unexpectedly, Germany's hostile attitude toward Finland changed. During its preparations to invade the Soviet Union, Germany saw Finland as a useful partner. Finland did not like a political alliance with Nazis, but military cooperation with Germany was the only option to counter the Soviet threat and it presented an opportunity to get back the stolen land areas. Preparations for war were complete when Germany invaded Russia, but Finland joined the war only after the Soviets had made several air raids against Finnish targets on June 25, 1941.

MH: Can you describe your first victory of the Continuation War?
Juutilainen: We were at Rantasalmi Air Base on July 9, 1941, and we received information that Soviet aircraft were coming to attack our army troops early in the morning. We took off at 4 a.m. and after about half an hour's waiting, we saw the first enemy aircraft - Polikarpov I-153 "Chaika" (gull) biplane fighters. The battle started at 13,000 feet, just west of Huuhanmäki railway station. I had already made a couple of attacks when I saw some movement below, against the surface of the lake. There were enemy fighters trying to escape. I dove after them and quickly caught up with one of the Russians, who was flying right at treetop level and who obviously thought he was safe down there. At a range of about 20 yards I squeezed the trigger. I had to pull my plane up to avoid a collision, and the Chaika crashed right into the forest. At that point, my engine started to sputter, while at the same time a Chaika was approaching me from directly ahead and above. I set up for an emergency landing in a small field near the village of Miinala. Just as I was about to land, my engine came back to life. The Chaika apparently didn't see me and passed directly overhead. I turned quickly after it.

After a while, I saw a new target, which seemed to be joining the plane I was chasing. They flew over Sorola Island and, after getting to the Laatokka Sea, turned and headed for their home base. At that point, I rammed the throttle full power and went for them. Aiming carefully at the wingman, I fired. Maybe the enemy pilot suspected danger, because he broke away at the same moment. But it was too late - my bullets had done their work. I had no time to fire at the other airplane because he broke away at the same time and disappeared among the small islands. I was tempted to go after him, but my rough-running engine deterred such thoughts. Partly unsatisfied about the unfinished work, I flew home. Esprit de corps at the base was high. This had been the first real, large aerial engagement of the war, and our squadron had destroyed nine enemy aircraft

MH: What about the circumstances of your downing three I-16s on August 18, 1942?
Juutilainen: We had come to the Gulf of Finland area. On the evening of August 18, an alarm came in, and the entire flight hurried into a big air battle near the Soviet Island of Kronstadt. Planes were coming from all directions - I-16 "Ratas" (rats), Hawker Hurricanes and even a Petlyakov Pe-2 was dashing into the fray. I got one Rata in my sights, approaching it from above and behind. I put some metal into his fuselage. The airplane went down and very nearly took a comrade with it. I pulled up in a very tight turn to keep my back clear. I flew amid the anti-aircraft fire of eight guard ships, which happened to be on the sea below me, until I got back in the melee. I had time to notice more enemy fighters taking off from Kronstadt to join our merry-go-round.

At one point we estimated that there were about 60 enemy planes in the furball. One Rata attacked me from straight ahead and below. I rolled inverted and simultaneously pulled back hard on the stick. I aimed quickly, fired into his fuselage and his airplane spun, crashing into the sea. Again I had to climb in that anti-aircraft fire. I was dodging one diving enemy fighter when another flew right in front of me. Staying tightly behind the target, I fired a long burst and began to think I would run out of ammunition. Finally, it fell in flames into the sea. By then it was becoming so dark that it was very difficult to determine friend from foe, so both sides began to retire. One of our pilots, 2nd Lt. Aarno Raitio, had bailed out and died in the stormy sea that night. The enemy lost 16 aircraft.

MH: Do you recall any other memorable combats in the B-239?
Juutilainen: Yes, there was another engagement over the Gulf of Finland that was rather peculiar. We had just attacked a formation of MiGs and Supermarine Spitfires on September 20, and I was just about to shoot a Mikoyan-Gurevich MiG-3 when my propeller transmission broke and my engine power decreased. I reported my status and asked for help, if anybody could afford to do so. One of the enemy fighters was moving into a good firing position a little below me. I quickly rolled my fighter inverted above him. My unexpected maneuver apparently frightened him, because he broke off and dove away. I sighed with relief, then tried to make my way back to base while carefully watching the enemy aircraft above me. Sure enough, a Spitfire came in from behind and above, expecting an easy kill. I tried to look as though I didn't see him.

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