Hitler's Jet Plane (10 page)

Raging at the impotence of the Reich air defences to prevent them, Hitler had taken to heart the murderous air attacks of ‘Big Week’ which in February 1944 had paralysed the greater part of fighter-aircraft production and wrecked 700 Me 109s. But on the Me 262 he would not relent. A further serious blow to jet-fighter production was struck on 24 April 1944 when the Leipheim factory was also destroyed.

Hitler allowed no opportunity to pass, particularly at conferences, to enquire about how ‘the Ar 234 and Me 262 jet bombers’ were coming along. He would allow nothing to obstruct or influence or deflect him from that chosen path of which his highly valued aircraft builder had assured him, the suitability of the Me 262 for bomber duty.

Meanwhile, mainly at the instigation of Galland and Milch, and without the knowledge of Hitler and Goering, series production of the Me 262 fighter had begun. It was actually no more than a pilot run, twenty aircraft whose completion was reported in May 1944. Two of these twenty aircraft were damaged at the end of the delivery flight when the undercarriage collapsed on landing, one of the ferry pilots being killed. About the same time, work had begun on the fast bomber variant which – as predicted – was attended by so many difficulties and setbacks that fifteen to twenty months would be needed before its first prototypes were completed, thus approaching New Year 1946, by when Hitler’s war had been long over.
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Galland and Milch did everything possible to follow up the pilot series by putting the Me 262 into mass production as a postulated fighter bomber with a retaining lock for lightweight bombs.

All that Galland had achieved so far with his persistent flow of recommendations and suggestions to Hitler was permission to set up a small test unit – Erprobungskommando 262 – at Lechfeld. Hitler had allowed this so that – as the Führer himself expressed it – the highly deserving General der Jagdflieger should receive a ‘trinket’.

Erprobungskommando 262 Thierfelder – named for Hauptmann Thierfelder its commander – had been formed in a very modest way at Lechfeld at the beginning of 1944. To set up the unit with the necessary machinery, tools and equipment was a long drawn-out business. No less difficult was the job of getting aircraft mechanics and transferring them in. The search extended into every nook and cranny at every air base. Lechfeld was a big airfield and Thierfelder’s Kommando was only one of many. Outsiders raised no eyebrows at the strange aircraft seen there. The existence of the Me 262 jet had, of course, been common knowledge around Lechfeld for several years, although maybe the eyes of a few new arrivals widened in surprise when they first heard and saw it.

The new unit often drove Thierfelder to despair. He was an officer who through years of operational experience was accustomed to good order, clear instructions and a functioning organisation. This Kommando was a unique nightmare. Apart from the engineering people, ground staff and administration personnel he had only a personal Staff of three officers: Oberleutnants Wörner, an experienced fighter pilot as flight instructor, Rassmussen, his engineer officer, and Viktor Emanuel Preusker. As communications officer the latter had the difficult task of working out a reliable radio direction system for the Me 262, an extremely fast aircraft with limited range.

It was quite some time before the few Me 262s diverted from the bomber production line as a sop to Galland with Hitler’s blessing made their appearance. In March 1944 Major Kogler, commander of III/ZG26 received orders to transfer two flights – Squadrons 8 and 9 with six pilots and part of the Squadron Staff – to southern Germany for Me 262 conversion training. The remainder of ZG26 had arrived in Germany shortly before to help stiffen the Reich air defence after previous service in North Africa and Italy. The engineers of 8th Squadron went to Leipheim, of 9th to Schwäbisch Hall, which were at the time the two final assembly workshops for the Me 262. The engineers were to learn how the aircraft was built and later take possession of the handful allotted. The six III/ZG26 pilots for conversion training at Lechfeld were Oberleutnants Bley, Müller-Nahlbach, Weber and Wegmann, Leutnant Schreiber and Feldwebel Lennartz. All were experienced Me 110 pilots. In April and May 1944 a number of young pilots without combat experience were drafted to Lechfeld for jet training.

Unexpected breakdowns and surprises cropped up in the conversion courses, primarily among the youngest pilots and those with little or no combat experience. The manipulation of the throttle lever was the major pitfall. From previous flying experience sitting behind a piston engine it was known that there had been no restrictions on moving the gas lever. Coming in to land too fast or too high one throttled back and went round for another try. To adjust position in formation you corrected by giving more or less gas. In practice, when dog-fighting you alternated between full throttle and feathering the motor as suited the situation. The Otto piston engines were always obliging, and if sometimes the engine choked on it, that was mostly harmless – a few splutters and then it burst back into life. But if you were anything robust about the way you pushed forward the throttle levers of the Me 262 jet turbines, they cut out and probably caught fire. Taking off, in the air, when landing. They caught fire if the throttle was advanced too quickly because more fuel came into the chambers than the engine could handle. It stopped the drive and the excess fuel then burnt off. If that happened before take-off, the airfield fire brigade or ground staff could quickly extinguish the fire once the jet was at a standstill. There would then be no further problem. At altitude an engine fire was dangerous, at low level usually fatal. At the outset of training especially it was a frequent occurrence, because pilots failed to observe the operating instructions from habit, inattentiveness or reacting in panic to an emergency.

A second but yet more deadly danger awaited the unwary in the steeper dives. It was the death of even good pilots who dived too fast. From level flight at perhaps 700 to 800 kph the speed of the Me 262 increased in seconds to 900 kph or more when put into a steep dive. It was not possible to recover the aircraft from such a dive using the original control stick of normal proportions. The muscular strength of the arms was insufficient to overcome the aerodynamic forces over the control surfaces. There were cases reported where pilots threw off the cabin hood and found that this had the effect of bringing the aircraft to tail-heavy, enabling control to be regained. If it happened – rarely at first – that in a dive the ailerons set themselves to nose-heavy, the pilot’s only hope was the parachute, providing he had the altitude and experience. Three or four pilots lost on the earlier conversion courses at Lechfeld crashed for this reason, the cause initially causing perplexity.

Many accidents were due to the inexperience or nervousness of young pilots, but even for pilots with thousands of hours flying and front experience the Me 262 was the last aircraft they ever flew. Here in the majority of cases unexpected emergency situations or incorrect reactions in combat were the cause. On 12 May 1944 the synthetic fuel plants at Leuna and Politz were extensively damaged in USAAF air raids. This was the first dangerous hack at the Achilles’ heel of the German Reich and Hitler realised that more such attacks would deprive him of an effective mechanised defence. A hectic programme of conferences was now begun at the highest level. The planned production of bomber and fighter aircraft was gone over repeatedly and reams of statistics produced. The possibility of its realisation changed from one day to the next. Goering, still in the dark about the true situation and what was possible, pleaded for a strong fighter arm and a no less strong bomber output. He studiously avoided taking the bull by the horns to disabuse Hitler of the notion that the invasion could be stopped by a notional ‘fastest bomber’. Being little more than Hitler’s lapdog, no doubt he felt his own powerlessness.

That was how matters stood when a decisive conference was fixed for 23 May 1944, held in the SS barracks at Obersalzberg on the slope below Hitler’s residence. Goering had invited twenty representatives of the aviation and armaments ministries, of research, industry and the Luftwaffe including Reich Minister Speer, Milch, von Richthofen, Galland, Saur, Petersen (head of the Rechlin aircraft test base), Karl Frydag deputising for the managing director of Heinkel, Knemeyer and others.

Goering opened proceedings by delivering a potted history of mistakes of the past including a sly dig at the posthumous Udet, and rounded off with the by now customary exhortation substantially to strengthen the Luftwaffe in order to regain its former aerial superiority and above all to fend off the threatened invasion of the European mainland. Goering praised Udet for his Stuka idea and for carrying it through but then blamed him for neglecting bomber production to do so. Valuable time had been squandered on useless experiments to turn the giant He 177 into a dive bomber which had naturally gone awry. Goering placed special value on strengthening the day- and night-fighter arms. It had now become very urgent to combat the Allied bomber fleets over the Reich and bring to a halt the destruction of German cities and armaments factories. Hitler was expecting above everything an enhanced production of heavy bombers, especially the four-engined He 277 to which preference was being given and of which the Führer was demanding a future monthly output of at least 200 machines. Next in line came the Ju 287 which had already shown great promise in test flights. The lighter bombers Do 355 and Ju 388 would be used on the Western Front as fast bombers. Goering referred to the Ar 234 and Me 262 as ‘support fighter bombers’. There was no more talk of the Me 262 as the ‘fastest bomber’, thus depriving those present of the chance to toss this subject into debate. Since Insterburg the Me 262 was no longer mentioned or discussed in wider circles. After Goering had told the assembly at the beginning of the conference of the urgent need for an increase in the defensive punch of the Reich defences, and those present had been informed that the production of the Me 262 fighter had already begun, if in small numbers, it seemed that the problems surrounding the Me 262 and its operational use must have been resolved. Those who were familiar with the problems of the aircraft by reason of their office or as engineers knew only too well that the Me 262 fighter bomber was depending on new jet turbines while the conversion to the ‘fastest bomber’ with a heavier bomb payload would take considerable time. In this respect there could be no answer to the most pressing questions.

After the conference, Speer, Milch, Petersen, Generals Galland and Korten and a few others made for the Berghof to discuss with Hitler the Jägerstab-Programm aimed at strengthening the fighter arm. The great 30-room Alpine-style house was set on a ledge at 1,700 metres. At that time besides the tight security on the ground, air defence was provided, the Waffen-SS manning sixty flak guns sited on various favourable heights: 12 x 10.5-cm, 16 x 8.8-cm, 24 x 3.7-cm, 6 x 2-cm and 2 x 2-cm quadruples and a 646-strong smoke-making unit. The Führer’s air-raid centre was 30 metres below the Goeringhügel rock. It was linked to the national system and had a wall-map with numerous electrical circuits which lit up to show current enemy air movements over the Reich. If aircraft approached nearer than 100 kilometres to Berchtesgaden the air-raid alarm went off. Since the possibility of a paratroop drop was also considered a possibility, on the roof of the produce warehouse lower down an observation bunker had been erected from where aerials and a scissors-type artillery binocular could be extended.

Hitler greeted the party only fleetingly, apparently deep in thought. Finally he took a seat and with a tired movement of the hand invited his guests to do the same. With seeming disinterest he listened to the briefing about the Jägerstab conference, occasionally making a short observation. His gaze was fixed on the Hoher Göll mountain which could be seen through the extensive south-facing window of the study. As Minister of Aircraft Production, Generalfeldmarschall Milch then delivered in a calm and factual manner a report about fighter output and fighter units which Hitler had requested, and mentioned the twenty Me 262s. Suddenly Hitler lowered his gaze to Milch as if horrified and asked in a guttural undertone: ‘I thought the Me 262 was being produced as a fast bomber? How many of the completed 262s can carry bombs?’

Milch replied, ‘None, mein Führer. The Me 262 is being built exclusively as a fighter aircraft.’ By way of explanation he added that the conversion of the fighter into a fast bomber could not be achieved overnight but would take some time. Additionally the prototypes would have to be tested in flight. Milch concluded with the observation that even then the Me 262 would not be able to carry a bombload in excess of 500 kg.

In great excitement Hitler responded, ‘That is irrelevant – I am only asking for a 250 kg bomb! I ordered it without asking anybody’s opinion and I never left anybody in any doubt that it is to be produced as a fighter bomber!’ At that moment, Oberst Petersen saw Goering incline himself towards Hitler’s armchair and say in an undertone, ‘See how they obey your orders, mein Führer!’ Now it was obvious how deeply rooted Hitler’s demand had been, and the importance he vested in the Me 262 as a fast bomber. The aircraft seemed to represent the fulfilment of a desire, the means finally to force his enemies to their knees. He had believed in Messerschmitt’s assurance, had ordered that it become reality, he had the men now standing in his presence to carry it through and – could they have dared to defy his orders?