Mission #22

Date: 20 January 1942
Time: 1400
Weather: Clear, Clouds at 1300 meters

The Bear is awake!

Three days ago the Russians began a general offensive, hitting our lines near the Volkhov River. Kommodore Trautloft stressed that every aircraft be made available to assist in stemming the tide. Our infantry is struggling to hold and needs relief from relentless bomber attacks and fighters strafing their positions.

Historical Note: On January 18, the Northwestern Front outflanked and encircled the German II Corps and a portion of X Corps at Demyansk. The trapped German force numbered 95,000 men. Demyansk was an important communication center and Hitler declared it "Festung Demyansk" and ordered the German forces to stay put and not attempt a breakout. By holding Demyansk, the Germans could greatly hinder any further Soviet advances. A resupply effort was ordered and the first Ju52s landed at Demyansk on January 20. Hans-Ekkehard Bob's 9./JG 54 was dispatched to reinforce I./JG 51 in the Demyansk area. The weather cleared enough for Stuka operations on the 19th. I./StG 2 took to the air and relentlessly hounded the Soviet Second Assault Army with their new Stuka D-1s. JG 54 escorted the Stukas and bombers of the Kampfgeschwaders and thus the bomber crews suffered only light losses despite the VVS' best efforts to stop the bombers harrowing the Soviet ground troops. [Black Cross Red Star Vol 2, Chapter 6, Bergstrom and Mikhailov].

Alarm! Enemy planes are approaching! Ground stations report two formations of aircraft headed our way. The Hund and I race to our machines, along with every other pilot. Today we were supposed to be escorting Stukas, but that mission will have to wait. We will defend our home!

Black Men scramble on the wings of the Messers and begin starting the engines with cumbersome handcranks. Pilots leap into the cockpit and are hastily strapped into their machines.

Leutnants Ahlers and Frisch are the first in the air. The rest of the Staffel follow them two by two like a dark comedic play about Noah and his Ark. In a few minutes, everyone is airborne. I quickly orient myself and dark splotches on the sky - flak bursts. In practiced precision, we form two-ship rottes and investigate. I find myself with the Hund.

Suddenly, the radio headset crackles with cries for help. Two Rata's managed to bounce part of the Staffel struggling for altitude. I crane my neck around and see Hadamer, the Professor, dive after an I-16.

The Hund and I are without targets so we watch Hadamer and his wingman, Unteroffizier Schuhmacher, attack a low flying Rata. We are both stunned to see tracers enter Hadamer's canopy. His Friedrich immediately tumbles to the ground and explodes in a fireball.

"Mein Gott! Mien Gott, I killed him!" It's Schuhmacher. His voice is shaky and his 109 flies over Hadamer's funeral pyre.

"Behind you!" screams the Hund. A LaGG has taken advantage of Schuhmacher's mental state. Tracers slam into the 109's fuselage and walk into the engine, which bursts into flames. Schuhmacher's crate tips over and creates a second 1 Staffel pyre in as many minutes. Hund and I fall upon the LaGG and the Hund dispatches it with cold fury.

Our flight is shaken with the sudden demise of our two comrades. Ahlers kills the last I-16.

"What happend?!" Leutnant Frisch asked.

"The lad had hunting fever after getting his first I-16," replied Ahlers. "He was a bit too eager to get the second."

Frisch's "Verdamnt!" spoke for all of us. Inexperience can not only get the green beginner killed, but his rottenflieger too.

Leutnant Frisch communicates with the ground stations. All of us follow when he points his machine north-east to intercept the second report formation of Soviet planes. A flight of Finnish Buffalos is spotted above us. The Hund's encounter with our Finnish allies is still refresh on everyone's mind so we cast a cautious eye on them.

Dusk is fast approaching. I take time to marvel at the horizon's beauty with the sun seeking to hide for the night. All eyes scan the sky for any sign of the enemy.

"Achtung, Furniture Vans!" I press the transmit button of the radio and send out my warning.

"Gut eyes, Widder," replies the Hund. A large formation of Russian bombers lay directly in our path. They must have spotted us because the bombers turn and head away to the east and the safety of their own lines.

In unision, every cyclist rams the throttle forward in pursuit. A pack of hungry wolves is about to fall upon the Russians. I take a moment to scan the sky to be sure there are no fighters lurking in the sun ready to bounce us. Satisfied that all is clear, I begin to select a target.

"Widder, don't get too close, those are Pe-2's," sarcastically says the Hund. "We wouldn't want you shot down on your birthday!"

I ignore the Hund and close in on the trailing Pe-2. The Hund invokes the memory of the last time I saw one of these types and I vow not to repeat the same mistake. And I truly do not want the stigma of getting shot down today, of all days, my birthday.

Ping, ping, ping. Rocks rattle around the fuselage. The gunners on the other Pe-2's are active and with their turn, White 20 has blundered into their sights. I'm too focused to give them any attention. The engine temp is normal and continues to run smoothly.

Just as I am about to fire, the Pe-2 is large in my Revi sight, it erupts in flame.

"Abschuss!" shouts Leutnant Frisch.

"Good kill, Tater 1!" I confirm his victory.

I bank left and skirt the outside of the formation. Tracer fire crisscrosses across the sky as Russian Pe-2's desparately try to defend themselves against being butchered by German fighters.

The sky is scarred with burning bombers hurtling towards the earth like flaming torches. Wings flutter like leaves after being severed by cannon fire. Shouts of victory fill my headset.

I'm behind the bombers again. I open the radiator flaps to match my speed to the Pe-2's. This will give me more time to pour accurate fire into a Pe-2. Once again, Leutnant Ahlers is quicker and destroys my selected victim.

Muttering, I kick right rudder and center the Revi on another bomber. There is no need to be greedy. There are plenty of targets for everyone.

I send cannon and machine gun into the right wing of the Pe-2. Quickly, I bank away above and to the left of the bomber. The top gunner is alert and fires into open sky that was once occupied by White 20.

The carnage continues.

I ready myself for a third pass into the gaggle of bombers. I'm behind the Hund who manages to saw a Pe-2 in half - a spectacular feat of marksmanship.

Finally I have my victim. The top gunner was busy sending green tracers after the Hund, all to no avail.

I fire. 20mm cannon rips into the left engine nacelle. Sparks fly all over the wing, which seems to disappear in a fireball. The Pe-2 snap rolls left without a wing.

"Abchuss!" I shout.

"Finally, Widder. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to hit anything," says the Hund, "Happy birthday, cyclist!" My ears burn with the cackle of laughter on the radio.

The last Pe-2 is destroyed by a Finn.

All the bombs dropped landed harmlessly on the open steppes, well away from our embattled troops. In all, we return and file claims for 14 Russian aircraft destroyed. Our great victory is dulled by the loss of Hadamer and Schuhmacher.