Dogfight E-Book

Dr Alfred Price

• Herausgeber: The History Press
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 685

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

Dogfight tells the story of some of the most incredible air battles of modern warfare. Alfred Price's action-packed accounts place you in the cockpit, offering a rare insight into what it was like to face the enemy thousands of feet above the frontline. From operations over the fields of France during the First World War, through to accounts of the indomitable spirit of the RAF during the Battle of Britain, to the horrifying loss of life inflicted by Hitler's Blitzkrieg offensive, when more than 300 aircraft fell in air-to air combat during a single day of fighting; this book details the battles and the men who fought in them. The jet age is also heralded in by accounts of the air force's role in the Vietnam War and the Falkland. The role of reconnaissance aircraft in modern warfare is described alongside the precision of attacking pin-point targets during the Gulf War in Iraq. This book not only uncovers how the tactics of aerial warfare have changed through each major conflict of modern times, but also the dramatic narrative allows the reader to feel like they were there in the skies, flying alongside these incredible pilots.

Leseprobe

DOGFIGHT

True Stories of Dramatic Air Actions

ALFRED PRICE

Front cover: Cody Images/USAF/Edwin H Ryan

Text of this book was previously published as two separate titles:

Sky Battles and Sky Warriors.

Sky Battles previously published by Arms and Armour Press, 1993 and by Cassell Military Classics, 1998, 2000

Sky Warriors previously published by Arms and Armour Press, 1994 and by Cassell Military Classics, 1998, 1999, 2000

This edition first published in 2009

Reprinted 2013

The History Press

The Mill, Brimscombe Port

Stroud, Gloucestershire, GL5 2QG

www.thehistorypress.co.uk

This ebook edition first published in 2016

All rights reserved

© Alfred Price, 1993, 1994, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2009

The right of Alfred Price to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyrights, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

EPUB ISBN 978 07509 8057 9

Typesetting and origination by The History Press

eBook converted by Geethik Technologies

Contents

Part I

Introduction

1 Above the Fields of France

2 The Rise and Demise of the Stuka

3 Only One Came Back

4 Low Altitude Attack

5 Countering the Night Bomber

6 Battle of the Coral Sea

7 Battle of the Bay

8 The Regensburg Strike

9 Reconnaissance to Berlin

10 The Nuremberg Disaster

11 Day of the Sturmgruppe

12 The Jets get their Chance

13 Furball over Hai Duong

14 Low Level Drama in front of San Carlos

15 The Epic of ‘Bravo November’

16 Precision Attack – By Night

17 St Valentine’s Day Shoot-Down

Part II

Introduction

18 By Zeppelin to Africa

19 Battle of Britain Day: 15 September 1940

20 Pre-Emptive Strike

21 Guided Missiles Make Their Mark (1)

22 Guided Missiles Make Their Mark (2)

23 Hard Fight to ‘The Big B’

24 The Great Marianas Turkey Shoot

25 Reconnaissance over Normandy

26 Bombers against the Tirpitz

27 Confound and Destroy

28 New Year’s Day Party

29 Target Hanoi

30 The First ‘Black Buck’

31 Countdown to ‘Desert Storm’

32 Tornado Spyplanes Go to War

Finale

Glossary

PART 1

Sky Battles

Introduction

My aim in writing this work has been to illustrate the actuality of aerial warfare during the past eight decades, by bringing together a series of detailed accounts of air actions spread throughout the period. To portray the multi-faceted nature of the air weapon, the narratives that follow include descriptions of each of the main roles in which aircraft are employed in time of war.

Chapter 1, ‘Above the Fields of France’, provides a rare insight into fighter operations over the Western Front during the final year of the First World War. Major William Sholto Douglas commanded No 84 Squadron equipped with S.E.5A fighters, and the account is based on a tactical paper that he wrote and also on the unit’s records. Following painful lessons learned when the Squadron entered combat, its commander worked out his tactical doctrine almost from first principles. Douglas himself was not a high scorer in combat, but thanks to his tactical leadership his squadron became one of the most effective air fighting units of its time. The techniques he formulated enabled others, notably Captain Andrew Beauchamp Proctor VC, to amass large victory scores while avoiding the risks that eventually claimed the lives of so many successful pilots. No 84 Squadron was continually in action throughout the final twelve months of the conflict, fighting over one of the most active parts of the battle front. Yet, after the first three weeks, the unit suffered relatively few losses.

The Second World War, which began in September 1939, was the first major conflict in which the possession of air superiority allowed one side to impose major constraints on operations by the opposing land and sea forces. Chapter 2, ‘The Rise and Demise of the Stuka’, describes a type of operation that was relatively easy for the side that possessed air superiority and hazardous if that quality had been lost. During the early Blitzkrieg campaigns in Poland, Norway, Belgium, Holland and France, the Junkers Ju 87 ‘Stuka’ dive-bombers attacked targets with pin-point accuracy to support the German armoured thrusts. The Stukas tried to continue their run of successes during the Battle of Britain in the summer of 1940, and although they inflicted severe damage on their targets they suffered heavy losses in the process. Against warships manoeuvring in open water the dive-bombers remained a potent threat, until the vessels were provided with sufficiently strong air cover to make such attacks unproductive.

From time to time an air attack goes terribly wrong, and as a result the raiding force pays a terrible price. Chapter 3, ‘Only One Came Back’, and Chapter 4, ‘Low Altitude Attack’, provide examples of a couple of small-scale actions in which the raiders were all but wiped out.

By the autumn of 1940 the Luftwaffe had come to the realization that the only way it could mount a sustained air attack on strategic targets in Great Britain was to send its bombers under cover of darkness. Chapter 5, ‘Countering the Night Bomber’, describes the first large-scale night bombing campaign in history. Initially the raiders suffered minimal losses, but gradually the night defences improved and by the end of the period they had started to take an increasingly heavy toll.

At sea, one notable development during the Second World War was that the aircraft carrier ousted the battleship as the primary instrument of surface naval power. When opposing carrier forces went into action against their own kind the result was a complex interplay between air and naval forces, and the first such encounter, in May 1942, is described in Chapter 6, ‘Battle of the Coral Sea’.

Another air campaign that had features quite unlike any other is described in Chapter 7, ‘Battle of the Bay’. ‘The Bay’ was the Bay of Biscay, and the actions were between submarine-hunting aircraft of Royal Air Force Coastal Command on the one side and German U-boats on the other. During this campaign air crews logged vast numbers of flying hours but only rarely did they see anything of their enemy. In parallel with the air-sea battle there ran an equally important struggle between the opposing sides’ technicians, with each trying to outwit the other. During the summer of 1943 the strategic bombardment of targets in Germany by US heavy bombers entered its critical phase, with the action described in Chapter 8, ‘The Regensburg Strike’. Then it became clear that the defensive firepower from formations of heavily armed Flying Fortresses was insufficient to deter attacks from a determined and well-equipped enemy fighter force. The answer was to push ahead with the development of the long-range escort fighter, with results that will be observed in later chapters.

Reconnaissance is a vitally important aspect of air power. Yet, because it involves single aircraft which seek to avoid combat, there is usually little action and the subject receives less attention than it deserves. Without effective pre-attack reconnaissance, an air commander will lack the information he needs to use his force to greatest effect. And unless he has prompt post-attack reconnaissance, he cannot determine whether or not an attack has been successful. Chapter 9, ‘Reconnaissance to Berlin’, illustrates the skills and the special kind of bravery needed to fly, alone, deep into enemy territory in an unarmed aircraft.

As has been said, the German ‘Blitz’ on Britain in 1940 and 1941 was the first-ever large-scale night bombing campaign. Yet this campaign was soon being dwarfed by that mounted by RAF night bombers against targets in Germany. Usually the cloak of darkness shielded the bombers from the ferocity of the German night fighter and gun defences, but on 30/31 March 1944 events conspired to strip away that safeguard. The resultant action is described in Chapter 10, ‘The Nuremberg Disaster’.

By the spring of 1944 the US heavy bombers had protection from strong forces of escorting fighters all the way to and from their targets. The cumulative effect of these attacks was the devastation of major parts of the German war economy and in particular the synthetic oil industry. Reich Air Defence fighter units found themselves locked into a losing battle of attrition against the American fighters, in which they suffered heavy losses in aircraft and pilots. The history of warfare provides many examples of actions where a few courageous men overcame a numerically superior foe. The Luftwaffe sought such an outcome when it introduced the novel attack methods described in Chapter 11, ‘Day of the Sturmgruppe’.

The appearance of the Messerschmitt Me 262 jet fighter in action in the autumn of 1944 brought a huge advance in combat performance and firepower compared with anything that had gone before. These are important attributes for a fighter aircraft, but they are not, by themselves, sufficient to bring about the defeat of a well-resourced and well-trained foe. Chapter 12, ‘The Jets get their Chance’, reviews the problems of bringing the revolutionary Messerschmitt 262 fighter into action in sufficient numbers.

During the late 1930s the accepted wisdom of the time was that manoeuvring combat between fighters was a thing of the past. The RAF Manual of Air Tactics, 1938 Edition, solemnly stated that ‘Manoeuvre at high speeds in air fighting is not now practicable, because the effect of gravity on the human body causes a temporary loss of consciousness, deflecting shooting becomes difficult and accuracy is hard to obtain.’ Apart from the first of those statements, the others were (and, indeed still are) true. The effect of gravity on the human body during high-speed manoeuvres does cause temporary loss of consciousness, deflection shooting does become difficult and as a result accuracy is hard to obtain. When the matter was subjected to the acid test of combat in the Second World War, however, it soon became clear that although deflection shooting was ‘difficult’ and accuracy was ‘hard to obtain’, these were not insurmountable obstacles. Although manoeuvring combat was difficult and tiring, with determination it was certainly possible.

Following the introduction of swept-wing jet fighters able to exceed the speed of sound in a dive, in the late 1940s, it was again fashionable to sound the death-knell of fighter-versus-fighter combat – until the Korean War taught people otherwise. The notion was resurrected a decade later with the emergence of Mach 2 fighters armed with air-to-air missiles – until the air war over North Vietnam laid that particular ghost to rest for all time. The largest dogfight of that period is described in Chapter 13, ‘Furball over Hai Duong’.

The action over Hai Duong demonstrated that fighter pilots are sometimes forced to fight on terms quite different from those for which they had trained in peacetime. Another example of this occurred during the Falklands Conflict in 1982, when Sea Harrier pilots defended the amphibious landing operation at San Carlos against attacks by the far larger Argentine Air Force and Navy. Chapter 14 ‘Low Level Drama in front of San Carlos’, describes the heaviest day of air fighting during that conflict.

Air transport is yet another aspect of air warfare that is possible only if one’s opponent does not possess air superiority over the operating area. In Chapter 15, ‘The Epic of “Bravo November”’, the Falklands War provides an example of how a single large helicopter, handled with skill and resolution, had a considerable effect on a land campaign.

The Vietnam War spawned two families of air-to-ground weapons that have brought unprecedented accuracy to attacks on land targets: the laser-guided bomb and the electro-optically guided bomb. During the final years of ‘The Cold War’, the US 48th Tactical Fighter Wing equipped with F-111Fs perfected the techniques for delivering these weapons. Chapter 16, ‘Precision Attack – By Night’, describes the unit’s operations during the Persian Gulf conflict in the 1990’s.

At any time the act of being shot down is a traumatic experience, as an aircraft suddenly becomes incapable of sustained flight. Chapter 17, ‘St Valentine’s Day Shoot-Down’, describes an example that occurred during the attacks on Iraq.

This series of accounts is intended to provide the reader with a wide-ranging overview of the business of aerial warfare. Some of the impressions gained may not fit easily into the reader’s pre-conceived framework of ideas on this complex subject. It is not my intention to be deliberately controversial, but neither have I repeated some of the comforting and comfortable assertions of ‘established wisdom’ that I consider to be invalid. By setting out the facts in this way, I trust that readers will be able to take a more critical line with the material that appears before them in future.

Author’s Note

Unless stated otherwise, in this account all miles are statute miles and all speeds are given in statute miles per hour. Gallons and tons are given in Imperial measurements. Times are given in local time for the area where the incident described took place. Weapon calibres are given in the units normal for the weapon being described, e.g. Oerlikon 20mm cannon or Browning .5in machine gun. Where an aircraft’s offensive armament load is stated, this is the normal load carried by that type of aircraft during operations and not the larger maximum figure stated in makers’ brochures and reproduced in most aircraft data books.

Acknowledgment

I thank my friend Martin Middlebrook for kind permission to use first-person quotations from his books The Schweinfurt-Regensburg Mission and The Nuremberg Raid, in Chapters 8 and 10 respectively.

Alfred Price Uppingham, Rutland January 1993

Chapter 1

Above the Fields of France

The story of No 84 Squadron Royal Flying Corps, which was sent into action over France in the autumn of 1917, and of its commander Major W. Sholto Douglas, who became one of the leading air combat tacticians of his time.

Air-to-air combat had its origins over the Western Front during the First World War, after reconnaissance planes started to carry machine guns so that they could engage their enemy counterparts if they chanced to meet them. Then in the summer of 1915 the German Air Service introduced the Fokker monoplane, the first aircraft to be an effective destroyer of its own kind. A single-seater, the Fokker had a performance that no two-seater of the time could match. More importantly, its machine gun fired forwards through the propeller disc and had an interrupter system to prevent rounds striking the propeller blades. The deployment of the Fokker monoplane in small numbers enabled German pilots to seize air superiority, but the effect proved transitory as its features were soon copied by the enemy.

From then on each side strove to wrest air superiority from its opponent, or hold on to it. This led to the accelerated development of all aspects of aviation and in particular that of the fighter aircraft. The warring sides fielded a succession of new types that with ever more powerful engines, could fly faster and higher and climb faster. Structures became heavier and a lot stronger and aeroplanes’ armaments became more lethal.

As the fighter aircraft became more effective, talented individuals began to amass sizeable victory scores and establish their names as exponents of the new form of warfare: Germans like Max Immelmann, Oswald Boelke and Manfred von Richthofen, Frenchmen like Georges Guynemer, Charles Nungesser and Rene Fonck and from Britain men like ‘Mick’ Mannock, Albert Ball and James McCudden. Every country needs to have heroes in time of war, and almost overnight the ace pilots became national celebrities.

Yet although these men were prepared to fight each other to the death and on rare occasions did so, they had much in common. Invariably they were gifted with excellent eyesight, which allowed them to see their enemy at great distances and usually before they themselves were seen. They had learned to use the sun or cloud cover to approach an enemy unseen, and they could size up the tactical situation at a glance and assess the quickest way to reach a firing position on their foe. Some of them were exceptionally fine shots, while others compensated for a lack of this ability by closing to short range to deliver their lethal burst. Most of their victims were taken by surprise and never saw their assailant before their aircraft was hit. Contrary to popular belief, the high-scoring aces scored relatively few victories in one-versus-one turning combats, or during the swirling dogfights. Those who survived long enough to reach that status knew that the risks incurred in this type of fighting were too great and the chances of success too small. By the end of 1917 the day of the lone aerial hunter – the man who went out alone to stalk enemy planes – was nearing its end. Few could operate effectively in this way, and the pilots of average ability achieved much more if they flew as part of a well-led unit than if they were left to their own devices. Air fighting had become a team affair and, as in a football match, the well-led team would usually defeat the bunch of talented but undisciplined individualists.

Born in 1893, William Sholto Douglas joined the Royal Flying Corps in 1914. Early the following year he flew his first operational flights with No 2 Squadron. In April 1916 he commanded No 43 Squadron equipped with Sopwith 1½ Strutters and led the unit in action. In August 1917 Douglas took command of No 84 Squadron, then in the process of forming at Lilibourne near Rugby with eighteen S.E.5A fighters. Of the 24 pilots assigned to the unit, only Douglas and his three flight commanders had previous air fighting experience.

In September No 84 Squadron moved to Liettres in northern France, ten miles behind the front line, and underwent a short period of preparation for combat. Its first mission over enemy territory took place on 15 October, when it escorted six de Havilland 4 bombers attacking an ammunition dump. During a tussle with enemy fighters Lieutenant Edmund Krohn claimed the destruction of an Albatros fighter, the unit’s first victory. But any elation that might have been felt was tempered by the loss of Lieutenant Lord, who was shot down and taken prisoner.

Although the S.E.5A had the edge in performance over the Albatros D V, the main German type it met in action, the Squadron suffered painful losses during its initiation into combat. At the time the Battle of Passchendaele was in full swing, and the unit was in action on almost every day and suffered severe losses. During a particularly hard-fought action on 31 October, for example, Captain Leask lead a six-aircraft flight down to attack four hostile aircraft seen below them. Then a dozen Albatros fighters pounced from above and the would-be hunters became the prey. Two S.E.5As were shot down and their pilots killed, while the Squadron claimed the destruction of two enemy aircraft.

During its first sixteen days in action, No 84 Squadron lost nine pilots killed or taken prisoner, more than one-third of its complement. Its total claim over the period amounted to five enemy aircraft. On this inauspicious start Douglas later reflected:

It was a hard school for a new and untried Squadron and at first, owing to the inexperience of the pilots, we suffered casualties. But bitter experience is a quick teacher . . .

In November the Battle of Passchendaele petered out and the ground fighting slackened. This, coupled with a general deterioration in the weather, led to a marked reduction in air activity. Replacements arrived to fill the gaps in the ranks, and those pilots that had survived the harsh initial baptism of fire emerged with a better grasp of the realities of air combat. Now the unit was allowed a breathing space to consider past mistakes and build on its hard-won fighting experience. After a couple of moves it ended the year based at Flez near St Quentin.

Douglas soon revealed himself as a shrewd tactician and a perceptive commander. Although his own victory score would never be impressive, he produced a workable set of tactics and ensured that his pilots complied with them. The lessons of the bloody initiation into combat were well learned and No 84 Squadron evolved into an effective force, confident in its abilities and with a high ratio of victories to losses.

After the war Douglas wrote a long report on his experiences as a fighter commander, in which he set down the techniques that led to success in air combat and those that did not. He quickly grasped the fundamental lesson that has been part of the combat philosophy of every successful fighter pilot, before or since:

A lesson that we soon learnt was that there are occasions when it is wrong to accept battle, that one must always strive to take the enemy at a disadvantage. Equally, one must not be taken at a disadvantage oneself and this often entails a deliberate refusal of battle and a retirement so that the enemy’s advantage may be nullified. If for instance that advantage is height, then one should retreat, climb hard, and go back and seek out the enemy at his own height or higher. Of course there are occasions when battle has to be accepted at a disadvantage – if, for instance, one sees another British squadron being overwhelmed by superior numbers, then obviously whatever the odds one must accept battle. But normally one should force the battle upon the enemy, not have the battle forced on oneself.

Douglas appreciated the strengths and weaknesses of the S.E.5A, compared with the enemy types that his unit met in action. As well as its excellent speed, climbing and diving performance compared its opponents, the S.E.5A had other useful attributes. It was a rugged aircraft that would accept a lot of mishandling, and the commander felt that that was particularly important:

The S.E. was strong in design and construction, and it did not break up in the air when roughly handled as certain other types were apt to do. Nothing undermines a pilot’s confidence in his machine so much as doubts as to its strength [author’s emphasis].

The pilot’s view from the S.E.5A was better than from most other contemporary biplane fighter types – an important characteristic in an air action where the side that was the first to detect its opponent possessed the initiative in any combat that followed. The aircraft was also a stable firing platform, particularly in the dive, and this was another factor that Douglas considered useful:

It was very steady when diving fast; the pilot could therefore take very careful aim when diving to attack (and nine times out of ten he attacks by diving). This is an advantage pertaining to all stable machines – the faster one dives, the steadier becomes one’s gun platform. An unstable machine like a Camel or a Sopwith Dolphin is apt to ‘hunt’ when diving at high speeds, i.e. to vary its angle of dive from time to time in spite of the pilot’s best endeavours to prevent it . . . Good shooting under these circumstances is rendered very difficult.

If an S.E.5A pilot were forced on to the defensive in combat, a steep dive would enable him to pick up speed quickly and draw away from his opponent, even one that was faster in straight and level flight. It was a useful method of breaking out of an action if a pilot was hard-pressed, if his guns had jammed or if he had run out of ammunition.

The S.E.5A was less manoeuvrable than many contemporary fighter types, though Douglas played down the importance of this attribute in combat:

The S.E. has often been criticised as being heavy on the controls for a single-seater, and so insufficiently manoeuvrable. In the days when aerial fighting was a series of combats between individuals, it is true that the manoeuvrability of the individual machine was all-important. In 1918, however, it was no longer the individual pilot but the flight flying in close formation that was the fighting unit; and the distinction will, I think, become more and more pronounced in future wars. In the present development of aerial fighting it is the flight that fights as one unit [author’s emphasis]. Therefore it is the manoeuvrability of the flight that counts, not the manoeuvrability of the individual machine. If then a machine is sufficiently handy (as was the S.E.) to keep its place in the formation in any flight manoeuvre, it is of minor importance whether that machine is individually of a high degree of manoeuvrability or not.

It was found that supremely quick manoeuvring was nearly always a defensive measure; when attacked the pilot escaped the immediate consequences by swift manoeuvre. The attack on the other hand was usually delivered by a flight formation diving at high speed, so that in attack it was the manoeuvrability of the flight that counted. Now if you have a machine superior in performance to the enemy (as was the S.E. till the autumn of 1918), and your patrols are well led, you should very rarely be attacked or thrown on the defensive. Instead, you should be able so to manoeuvre your formation that, by virtue of your superior speed and climb, you yourself are always the attacker; which leads us to the conclusion that if your machines are superior in performance to those of the enemy, manoeuvrability is a very secondary consideration.

By trial and error Douglas arrived at what he considered to be the optimum fighting unit: a five-aircraft formation flying in ‘V’, stepped up from front to rear. Lacking radio, the aircraft flew close to the leader to observe his hand signals. The leader could also communicate by manoeuvres, though there was only a small range of easily understood messages that could be passed in this way. For example, banking gently to one side then to the other meant ‘Close up’; flying an undulating path meant ‘Open out’; to signal his intention to turn, the leader banked twice in the required direction, then began turning; and ‘Enemy in sight’ was indicated by banking the aircraft steeply from side to side several times.

Douglas ordered that flight leaders make all of the tactical decisions, and the other pilots in the flight had to concentrate on maintaining position in formation and following instructions. The technique of co-ordinated search, in which every pilot in the formation scans an area of sky keeping watch for the enemy, was unknown. Given the poor training and experience level of the average squadron pilot at the time, it would probably have been unworkable.

By this stage of the war the German fighter units usually flew in formations of a dozen or more. They rarely ventured over the land battle, preferring to engage the enemy over their own territory. Lieutenant-Colonel, the commander of the 22nd Wing of which No 84 Squadron was part, sent multi-squadron formations over hostile territory in an attempt to force the German fighting patrols into action. Typically, such a formation comprised a squadron of Sopwith Camels at 15,000ft, one of S.E.5As 16,000ft and one of Bristol fighters at 18,000ft. The tactic was a complete failure. The force could be seen from several miles, and any German fighting patrol in its path quickly drew away to the east. When the formation turned for home, having punched at an empty sky, the enemy fighters harried it from the sides and flanks and attempted to pick off stragglers.

Douglas took part in a few of these fighter sweeps and was scathing in his criticism of them. In his view the squadron-size offensive patrol was much more successful as a means of engaging the enemy. That, he felt, was the largest force that could be led effectively into action by one man. He developed a technique of using three flights flying some distance apart but in concert, each with a set role. In a typical patrol of this type, ‘A’ Flight flew in the lead at 15,000ft and its commander was in charge of the entire formation. ‘B’ Flight, in support, maintained position about half a mile behind ‘A’ Flight and flew in echelon some 500ft above it. ‘C’ Flight, also in support, flew farther behind ‘A’, echeloned on the opposite side to ‘B’ Flight and at 18,000ft. Describing the tactical employment of this force, Douglas commented:

S.E.5A

Role: Single-seat fighter.

Power: One Wolseley Viper 8-cylinder, liquid-cooled engine developing 200hp at take-off (other types of engine were also fitted, but the Viper was standard on No 84 Squadron’s aircraft from March 1918 to the end of the war).

Armament: One Vickers .303in machine gun synchronized to fire through the propeller disc; one Lewis .303in machine gun mounted on top of the upper wing, firing above the propeller disc. There was provision for carrying four 25lb bombs on racks under the fuselage.

Performance: Maximum speed 128mph at 6,500ft; climb to 10,000ft, 10min 50sec; climb to 15,000ft, 20min 50sec.

Normal operational take-off weight: 1,988lb (no bombs carried).

Dimensions: Span 26ft Thin; length 20ft 11in; wing area (both wings) 245.8 sq ft.

Date of first production S.E.5A: May 1917.

The duty of ‘B’ Flight is to follow closely and conform to the movements of ‘A’ Flight. It does not attack on its own initiative – the initiative lies absolutely in the hands of the squadron patrol leader, i.e. the leader of ‘A’ Flight. This somewhat rigid formalism was found to be necessary owing to the tendency of the following flights to be drawn away into subsidiary combats, leaving the squadron leader unsupported. If the latter attacks, ‘B’ Flight does one of two things: it either reinforces ‘A’ Flight, if the enemy is sufficiently numerous to make this worthwhile; or it flies directly over the top of ‘A’ Flight and affords protection to ‘A’ Flight against enemy machines attacking from above. The third flight (‘C’ Flight) is the covering force: it flies as high as possible, and some two or three miles behind and to the flank of ‘A’ Flight. The leader follows ‘A’ Flight at a distance, and has orders never to come down to assist ‘A’ and ‘B’ Flights except in great emergency. The mere fact that ‘C’ Flight is circling high up over the combat is usually sufficient to prevent any but a very strong enemy formation from attacking the two lower flights.

Douglas took the view that the well-led and disciplined flight formation was the most effective means of destroying enemy aircraft for minimum losses, and in action he set great store on maintaining flight cohesion:

It was soon discovered that, as soon as the flight lost formation and was split up, casualties occurred. Also, that it was not when attacked that the flight was so liable to break up, as when [it was] attacking. When attacked, pilots naturally hung together for mutual protection; but when an attack was begun, pilots were apt to break off in pursuit of the particular German machine that they had marked down as their prey, and were then set upon while so isolated, and overwhelmed by superior numbers.

After much debate and in spite of opposition from the individualists in the squadron, we finally made a strict order that no pilot was on any account to leave the formation [author’s emphasis], even to take an apparently easy opportunity of shooting down an enemy machine. The initiative in any attack lay wholly with the flight leader: if he dived to the attack, the whole flight dived with him; when he zoomed away after the attack, even if he had failed to shoot down the enemy attacked, all pilots zoomed away with him still keeping formation. This was found to be the only way of keeping the formation together during a combat; otherwise the flight was split up at the first onset, each pilot breaking off in pursuit of a different enemy machine, and then being defeated in detail.

The natural consequence of this order was that it was usually the flight commander who actually shot down the enemy machine. But, being the most experienced pilot, he was the most capable of doing this quickly and effectively. In addition, with his flight behind him to act as a buffer against any attack from behind, he could afford to concentrate all his powers on the destruction of the enemy machine. There was no need for him to be peering over his shoulder all the time, anxious lest he himself be attacked. His aiming and shooting were therefore the more careful and deliberate.

Unless it were unavoidable, No 84 Squadron refused to engage in dogfights with enemy fighters. The First World War dogfight has been likened to ‘a bar room brawl with guns’. Once the opposing forces were committed, their commanders had no control over the action, and that was reason enough for Douglas to order his pilots keep out of them. These disciplined fighting tactics proved highly effective; particularly on 3 April 1918 when the unit engaged a large force of enemy Pfalz and Albatros fighters over Pozières and claimed the destruction of six enemy aircraft without loss to itself. A few weeks later, on the 25th, No 84 Squadron had another successful action when it claimed the destruction of nine Pfalz and Albatros fighters for the loss of one S.E.5A.

From time to time the Squadron was ordered to provide close escort for bomber formations attacking targets in hostile territory. Douglas hated this type of operation, and likened a fighting squadron tied to a bomber formation to a boxer trying to fight with one hand tied behind his back. He continued:

. . . a fighting squadron on escort duty cannot attack the enemy formations that it encounters because if it did so, the bombers, proceeding on their course, would soon be out of sight and would thus be left unprotected. All that the fighting squadron can do is to wait until the enemy attacks and then to parry the blow. Moreover a bombing formation, if composed of machines with a good performance, of pilots who can fly in close formation and of observers who can shoot straight, can fight a very successful defensive action against even superior numbers.

In the decades to follow, fighter unit leaders of almost every nation would reiterate Douglas’s sentiments.

The effectiveness of No 84 Squadron’s tactics was quickly reflected in its ratio of victory claims to losses. During the four months from the beginning of December 1917 the unit claimed 68 enemy aircraft destroyed or sent out of control. Like most victory totals amassed during the conflict, it was almost certainly an overclaim, but, whatever the true figure, it was achieved for a loss of only two pilots killed in action, two taken prisoner and one wounded.

On 1 April 1918 the Royal Flying Corps was incorporated into the new Royal Air Force. At the time No 84 Squadron was too busily engaged in the fighting to notice anything different. It would take several months for the changes to filter through the command system, and business continued exactly as before.

As has been said, Douglas himself did not achieve an impressive victory score. But several of his pilots did, notably Lieutenant Andrew Beauchamp Proctor. A diminutive South African only 5ft 1in tall, ‘Procky’ was so small that his aircraft was fitted with blocks on the rudder pedals so that he could reach them. His contemporaries described him as being extremely aggressive in the air, he had exceptionally keen vision and he was an excellent shot. Although a novice pilot when the unit first went into action, by the end of March 1918 he was a flight leader. By the following month, when he was promoted to Captain, his victory score stood at 5½ enemy aircraft.

ALBATROS D V

(The German fighter type most frequently encountered by No 84 Squadron, up to the spring of 1918)

Role: Single-seat fighter.

Power: One Mercedes D III 6-cylinder, liquid-cooled engine developing 160hp at take-off.

Armament: Two Spandau 7.9mm machine guns synchronized to fire through the propeller disc.

Performance: Maximum speed 102mph at 9,840ft; climb to 9,840ft, 17min 9sec. Normal operational take-off weight: 2,018lb.

Dimensions: Span 29ft 8½in; length 24ft; wing area (both wings) 220.1 sq ft.

Date of first production Albatros D V: May 1917.

During the final three months of the war No 84 Squadron became adept in the specialized technique of destroying enemy observation balloons. By this stage of the war the numerous Allied patrols over the battle front made life extremely hazardous for German planes on gunfire spotting missions. As a result, the German artillerymen came to rely on balloon-borne observers to direct fire against ground targets beyond the front line. If these balloons could be destroyed or kept on the ground, the effectiveness of the German artillery was much reduced and the life of the long-suffering British infantrymen was made much easier – hence the importance given to attacking these sausage-shaped targets.

Since they were filled with potentially explosive hydrogen gas and carried no defensive weapons, it might seem that the balloons were easy prey. As many a fighter pilot discovered to his cost, however, this was not the case. Hydrogen in an enclosed container – such as a balloon envelope – is not inflammable: like petrol, it becomes explosive only when it is mixed with oxygen in the correct ratio. To set the balloon on fire it was first necessary to puncture the envelope to allow the gas to escape and mix with the surrounding air, then ignite the mixture with tracer rounds. That meant that the rounds had to be concentrated on a particular part of the balloon, and attacks had to be pressed to within 50yds to achieve success. If there were rain, or if the air were moist, it was almost impossible to ignite a balloon.

Normally the German observation balloons flew at altitudes of between 1,500 and 4,500ft and had machine guns positioned around them to deter fighter attacks. If he saw enemy fighters approaching, the observer jumped from his basket by parachute and the balloon was winched down as rapidly as possible. Because the balloons flew at a relatively low altitude, anyone attacking one was himself liable to be attacked from above by enemy fighters. Douglas therefore devised a set-piece method of attacking the balloons, a variation of the tactics which had proved successful during the Squadron’s offensive patrols. The Squadron crossed the front line in formation at altitudes around 10,000ft, as if flying an ordinary patrol. When the force reached a point above the balloons, the flight designated to attack them dived away. The pilots fanned out and each singled out a balloon to engage. One covering flight descended to 5,000ft to protect the attackers from enemy fighters, while the other flight stayed at 10,000ft to deter enemy planes going down to engage those below. During an attack on balloons, speed and surprise were essential.

Douglas noted:

It was . . . found to be best to dive steeply to a point about half a mile from the balloon and on a level with it; then to flatten out and go straight at the balloon with all the added velocity gained in the dive. At 200 yards’ range one took a sighting shot with the Vickers and at fifty yards opened fire with the Lewis gun. One carried straight on to within about twenty yards of the balloon, firing all the time, hopped over it and zoomed away.

These attacks were invariably brisk affairs, with no more than ten minutes from the time the formation first crossed the front line until the last aircraft was back over friendly territory. The tactics were used successfully on several occasions and at the end of the war the Squadron’s score stood at 50 balloons destroyed. On its best day for balloon attacks, 24 September 1918, the unit was in action twice. In the morning Beauchamp Proctor led an attack on a line of balloons: he shot down one and his colleagues shot down two more. That afternoon Captain Carl Falkenburg led a similar attack on a line of six balloons which resulted in the destruction of four. On both occasions the covering flights prevented enemy fighter patrols from interfering with the operations. In his report, Falkenburg noted that the attack

. . . took the enemy by surprise and we had four balloons in flames before he began to retaliate from the ground. By the time the Ack Ack and machine gun fire got really intense we were back in the clouds and succeeded in getting home almost unscathed. The top flight, led by Lt Nel, kept a good watch and kept just over us while we were attacking the balloons. They then escorted us home.

In the afternoon of 8 October Beauchamp Proctor engaged a Rumpler reconnaissance aircraft near Maretz and followed it down to low altitude to finish it off. His S.E.5A came under fire from the ground and he was hit in the arm. Nevertheless, he continued with the mission and made an unsuccessful attack on a balloon before returning to base. The wound proved more serious than initially thought, however, and he spent most of the next five months in hospital. By then his victory score stood at 54 enemy aircraft, including 16 observation balloons. Following a strong recommendation from Douglas, supported by corroborating statements by four other pilots, Beauchamp Proctor was awarded the Victoria Cross in recognition of his bravery and determination in combat.

Following their bloody initiation into combat, during which nine pilots were lost in less than three weeks, Douglas and the other survivors learned their craft quickly. During the twelve-month period from the early part of November 1917 until the Armistice exactly a year later, No 84 Squadron was continually in action and it took part in some of the heaviest fighting. The unit was credited with the destruction of 306 enemy aircraft, including 50 balloons. In the absence of effective verification procedures, it would be surprising if these claims were accurate; but, even if only half were true, the unit’s score was still remarkable.

Many units achieved high victory scores by employing high-risk tactics and incurring heavy losses in the process. That was not Douglas’s way. No 84 Squadron operated as a disciplined unit employing comparatively low-risk tactics, and that was reflected in the relatively low losses suffered in action – 25 pilots killed, two taken prisoner and eighteen wounded. Few units engaged in prolonged heavy fighting over the Western Front got off so lightly.

After the war Douglas gained rapid promotion in the RAF and at the beginning of the Second World War he was Assistant Chief of Air Staff with the rank of Air Vice-Marshal. In the autumn of 1940 he was appointed to lead Fighter Command in succession to Sir Hugh Dowding. Later he became Commander-in-Chief RAF Middle East, and at the end of the war he was Commander-in-Chief Coastal Command. In 1948 he retired as Marshal of the Royal Air Force and soon afterwards, as Lord Douglas of Kirtleside, joined the board of the British Overseas Airways Corporation and played an important part in the development of that airline. He died in 1969.

Chapter 2

The Rise and Demise of the Stuka

With its angular outline and screaming siren, the steep-diving Junkers Ju 87 ‘Stuka’ has come to epitomize the fast-moving, hard-hitting Blitzkrieg tactics employed with such success by German armed forces during the early part of the Second World War. In this chapter we examine the ingredients of the aircraft’s success, and the countermeasures that brought about its defeat.

Until the advent of guided weapons, the steep dive-attack was the most accurate method to deliver bombs on a defended target. Against small targets, bombing accuracy is a matter of paramount importance. A 1,000lb bomb missing the hard target by a few tens of yards will cause it no serious damage. It can be shown mathematically (though the author will resist the temptation) that if a bomb’s miss distance is halved, its destructive effect is four times as great. If the miss distance is reduced by three-quarters, the destructive effect is increased sixteen-fold. Or, to put it another way, the same destructive effect can be achieved using one-sixteenth the weight of bombs. Those figures explain the rationale for the Stuka and its concept of operation: that a small weight of high explosive positioned accurately will be much more effective than a considerably greater amount of explosive positioned less accurately. (Today, this argument justifies the greater cost and complication, but the far greater accuracy, of the ‘smart’ weapons.)

The word ‘Stuka’ is a contraction of the German word Sturzkampfflugzeug meaning ‘dive-bomber’. Strictly speaking, the term refers to all aircraft capable of performing that role and not merely to a particular type. Yet by common usage over many years, ‘Junkers 87’ and ‘Stuka’ have come to be synonymous, and they will be treated as such in this account.

The Junkers Ju 87 was designed without compromise as a steep-diving bomber, and everything else was subordinated to that requirement. The ‘Berta’, the main production version until early in 1941 and the one that established the type’s reputation, carried a 1,100lb bomb load. The fixed, spatted undercarriage gave the aircraft a decidedly dated look, and in horizontal flight its maximum speed was only 238mph. Yet during a diving attack the drag from the fixed undercarriage was a positive asset, when combined with that from the dive brakes extended under the wings: slowed by these protuberances, the Ju 87 was inherently stable in its near-vertical attack dive. With the engine throttled back, the machine reached a terminal velocity of only about 350mph (a cleaner aircraft would have attained a greater terminal velocity in the dive; that meant that the pilot had to dive less steeply or release the bombs and begin the pull-out at a higher altitude, and either factor would have reduced bombing accuracy).

Once the bombs had been released, a specially designed mechanism initiated a firm but smooth 6g pull-out from the dive. The Ju 87’s rugged structure was designed to withstand this manoeuvre with a safety margin in case – as sometimes happened – the bombs failed to leave the aircraft. It was an important consideration: during a 6g pull-out, 1,100 pounds of bombs still in place added more than 3 tons to the load the aircraft’s structure had to support.

Just as the requirements of the steep-diving attack dominated the design of the Ju 87, so they dictated the tactics of using the aircraft in action. The description that follows covers a typical ‘set piece’ dive-bombing attack by these aircraft.

On their way to the target the Ju 87s usually flew at about 11,000ft, the highest altitude at which crews could go safely without resorting to oxygen. The aircraft flew in three-plane ‘vics’ and, depending on the size and importance of the target, a Staffel (up to nine aircraft) or Gruppe (up to 30 aircraft) formation flew with the vics in line astern with an interval of 300yds between each.

For an accurate attack, it was important that the aircraft were heading directly into the wind when they commenced their dives. As he neared the target, the formation leader kept an eye open for smoke rising from the ground, to determine the wind direction, and aligned the attack run accordingly. Immediately before he commenced his dive, each Ju 87 pilot re-trimmed the aircraft for the dive and set the briefed bomb-release altitude (above sea level) on the contacting altimeter.

Inset into the floor of the cockpit in front of the pilot’s seat was a window, through which he could see the target as it slid into position beneath the aircraft. A few seconds before commencing the dive, he throttled back the engine to idling and operated a lever to rotate the dive brakes to the maximum-drag position. The dive brakes produced a severe nose-up trim change to the aircraft, and to compensate for it a trim tab fitted to the elevators was lowered automatically.

When the formation leader commenced his dive, the rest of the aircraft in the formation followed in turn. For attacks on targets of small horizontal extent, for example bridges or small buildings, the Ju 87s usually approached in echelon formation, peeled into the dive and attacked in line astern. Against larger or better-defended targets, for example harbours or marshalling yards, the dive-bombers would usually bunt into their dives in three-aircraft vics and attack together to split the defensive fire.

Once established in its 80-degree dive, the Ju 87 was a stable platform and it was easy for the pilot to position the target under his reflector sight and hold it there. Speed built up relatively slowly, and it took a dive through 8,000ft for the aircraft to reach its terminal velocity of 350mph. The dive lasted about 20 seconds, allowing plenty of time to line up on the target. The accuracy of the attack depended upon maintaining a constant dive angle, and to assist in this a protractor was etched into the perspex on each side of the cockpit canopy so that the pilot could read off his angle during the dive.

When the aircraft reached a point 2,000ft above the bomb-release altitude previously set on the contacting altimeter, a warning horn sounded in the cockpit. When the aircraft reached the previously set bomb-release altitude, typically 2,300ft above the ground, the warning horn ceased. That was the signal to release the bombs. It will be remembered that before commencing the dive, a trim tab fitted to the elevators was lowered automatically to compensate for the nose-up pitching moment caused when the dive brakes were placed in the high-drag position. Now, the operation of releasing the bombs also activated a powerful spring, which returned the elevator trim tab sharply to the neutral position. The nose of the aircraft pitched up sharply, pulling the aircraft firmly but smoothly out of the dive. In this pre-set manoeuvre, the lowest point reached was about 1,000ft above the target – enough to give a margin of safety from exploding bombs and enemy small-arms fire. As the nose of the aircraft rose above the horizon, the pilot returned the dive brakes in the low-drag position, opened the throttle, re-trimmed the aircraft and turned on to the pre-briefed escape heading.

On completion of their training, German dive-bomber pilots were expected to put half of their bombs within a circle 25m (27yds) in radius centred on the target. (For comparison, the aiming error from a horizontal bomber releasing its bombs from high altitude was about three times as great.) In combat the bombing was invariably less accurate, because of the lack of familiarity with the target and the distractions caused by the enemy defences. As a result, the average bombing errors in combat were two or three times those achieved on the training ranges. Nevertheless, against (say) a circular target with a radius of 80yds, with moderately heavy anti-aircraft gun defences, a nine-aircraft Staffel of Ju 87s stood a good chance of scoring direct hits with half the bombs. Against very small, hard targets such as tanks of the period (typical dimensions about 7yds long and 3yds wide), which could survive anything except a direct hit or a very near miss, the Stukas were relatively ineffective.

To sum up, by a combination of its near-vertical dive, relatively low diving speed and low bomb-release altitude, the Ju 87 was able to deliver (unguided) bombs with an accuracy not previously achieved in action and rarely attained since. During the Second World War other types of aircraft also carried out steep-diving attacks, but these released their bombs from altitudes somewhat higher than those of the Ju 87 and their accuracy was correspondingly reduced.

During the invasion of Poland, in September 1939, the Ju 87 established a formidable reputation in combat. These aircraft were used to deliver pin-point attacks on bridges, rail targets and troop concentrations well behind from the front line – what are now termed ‘battlefield air interdiction’ missions.

Attacks on airfields met with less success. During the period of tension preceding the invasion, the Polish Air Force re-deployed most of its combat flying units to well-camouflaged field landing grounds. As a result, few military planes were lost during the attacks on the larger airfields and most of them were not combat types. Yet, although the Polish Air Force survived much of the initial onslaught, it was too small and its equipment was too outdated to pose a serious threat to German air operations. The Polish forces were poorly equipped with anti-aircraft guns for the protection of targets and, operating with little hindrance, the Ju 87 units struck hard and with great accuracy.

Despite numerous accounts that have suggested otherwise, over Poland the Ju 87 units were rarely used for close air support operations, that is to say against targets within a few hundred yards of friendly ground forces. The Ju 87 could deliver an accurate steep-diving attack only against a target that was clearly visible from 10,000ft (or nearly two miles). Camouflaged troop positions in the battle area were difficult to see from such an altitude, and even more difficult to attack. Moreover, as the wars in the Persian Gulf have shown, positive identification of troops in the battle area is a demanding business, and there is an ever-present risk that bombs might fall on the very troops they are supposed to assist.

The dive-bomber was a new and effective weapon and, above all, it was predominantly a German weapon. In those circumstances the German propaganda machine can hardly be blamed for playing the aircraft for all it was worth. Among friends and foes alike, the legend of the invincibility of the Stukas was established. Significantly, the number of Ju 87s in service at any time was never large. Over Poland, for example, the Luftwaffe committed every operational Ju 87 unit, but there were only about 370 aircraft.

The dive-bombers’ objective was the major French Air Force base at Frescaty near Metz, some 70 miles away, and the attack was planned to take place at dawn. The aircraft took off and assembled into formation in the dark, each with a 550lb bomb under the fuselage and four 110-pounders on the underwing racks. The dive-bombers had no close escort, but a Gruppe of Messerschmitts was sweeping the route ahead of it to drive away any enemy planes that might be airborne. Hauptmann Helmut Mahlke described the action, from the time the Stukas arrived in the target area:

In the turn we went into line astern, thirty Ju 87s following each other into the attack. As we lined up for our dives the flak opened up at us, but their shooting was slow and it did not bother us much. The target assigned to my Kette [vic] was the airship hangar, I could see it clearly. When it was my turn to attack, I banked my aircraft then pushed into an 80-degree dive. At 700m I released my bombs in a salvo, then began my pull-out. As I did so I looked at the hangar and at first it seemed that nothing had happened. Then the building expanded, rather like a toy balloon when somebody blows into it. Suddenly, the structure collapsed in a cloud of smoke and debris.

After delivering their attacks the Ju 87s reassembled into formation and headed for home, having suffered no losses.

During the next six weeks, Mahlke’s unit was in operation on almost every day that the weather allowed, with crews flying as many as four missions a day. By the final week in May, Allied forces in northern France were being pushed relentlessly towards the coast, and Operation ‘Dynamo’ began to evacuate troops from Dunkirk and the beaches to the east. On 1 June Mahlke took part in an attack on the port and had his first encounter with an RAF fighter:

It tried to shoot me down but almost certainly it ran out of ammunition before it could do so. The pilot curved around, moved into formation alongside me, saluted and pulled away for home. It was an act of chivalry that could never have happened in Russia . . .

After the Dunkirk evacuation ended, the German ground forces regrouped and moved against the French forces trying to re-establish a defensive line across northern France. The Stukas resumed operations in support of advancing German units, and during this phase there occurred an incident which impressed on Mahlke the risks of attacking targets in the vicinity of friendly forces. On 17 June he was ordered to lead his Staffel against a French troop position at Chatillon-sur-Seine near Dijon, in an area some distance ahead of German forces which threatened to hold up the advance. The approach flight was uneventful and Mahlke began his attack-dive, but then he noticed Very lights rising from the ground and men hastily laying out recognition panels. The area was in German hands! Mahlke pulled out of the dive and ordered his crews to abandon the attack. It was a close call: his unit had come close to bombing friendly troops in error. Later it transpired that French resistance in the area had collapsed and that the German advance had been much faster than expected.

During the campaign in the West, Trägergruppe 186 flew about 1,500 sorties, in the course of which it lost fifteen crews out of its establishment of 40. The overall loss rate was about 1 per cent, not a high figure, but the cumulative loss during the six weeks of hard fighting amounted to 40 per cent of the air crew. At that stage of the war the war losses in crews and aircraft were made good almost immediately from the replacement units, but it was an uncomfortable pointer to the problems that would arise during a lengthy campaign.

The Battle of Britain opened in July 1940, and the large-scale bombardment of targets on the British mainland began on 12 August. That day there were attacks by Stukas on the radar stations at Pevensey, Rye, Dover, Dunkirk (in Kent) and Ventnor. The radars proved difficult targets, however. They were small objectives and their vital parts were protected by blast walls. Although the openwork metal towers supporting the radar aerials might appear fragile, they presented only a small area to blast pressure or bomb splinters and it required almost a direct hit to knock one down. Although most of the radar stations suffered damage, following hasty repairs all except one was back in operation on the following day.

The largest co-ordinated attack ever mounted by Stukas took place on 18 August 1940, ‘The Hardest Day’. One hundred and nine Ju 87s drawn from Sturzkampfgeschwader 3 and 77, escorted by more than 150 Messerschmitt Bf 109 fighters, set out to attack the airfields at Gosport, Ford and Thorney Island and the radar station at Poling. British radars observed the approaching attack force in good time, and the fighter controllers scrambled 68 Spitfires and Hurricanes to meet it. The defenders were still climbing into position to intercept when the Stuka formations crossed the coast and prepared to begin their attack-dives. The escorting Messerschmitts with each dive-bomber Gruppe