Hitler's Jet Plane (26 page)

And now he wanted to get away from the farm, as quickly as possible, for soon the police would arrive to investigate the circumstances of the crashed aircraft. It was a wonder that they hadn’t put in an appearance already. Hofmann tried to raise himself from the sofa, but sank back almost at once. He asked the men to help him and, unable to raise his arms, allowed himself to be borne up by them, pleading that they should take him to an American airfield. They shrugged their shoulders uncomprehendingly.

Finally they decided to bring him to a small town nearby. A horse was harnessed to a Normandy waggon with large wheels. The woman brought two blankets and a straw mattress and he was laid on it. Then they set off. Hofmann had the parachute as his pillow. First they went down a rutted farm track beside a tract of ploughed land, at the end of which lay the smoking remains of the aircraft. The spark of hope that his papers might still be intact disappeared rapidly when he saw the wreckage. They all glanced at the bizarre heap of crumpled metal and continued on their way.

The trundling cart had no suspension and the jolting was intolerable. Hofmann asked the two farmers to stop and allow him to sit beside them on the plank serving as the coachman’s seat. It was little improvement, but better than being stretched out in the cart. The rutted track seemed to be composed of a series of potholes. With every yard the torture for Hofmann became worse until finally they reached a paved highway.

The silhouette of a town came into view. A church tower, to its right some high trees, their branches in full leaf, chestnut or possibly oak. To the left the remains of an old wall and a row of poplars concealed the first houses, while to the right lay a scattering of new one-family prefabs, pink or yellow painted, an incongruous contrast to the mellowed brick of the walls enclosing the town houses.

Entering the small town Ludwig Hofmann’s suffering began in earnest. Soon a knot of children and adults were following the slowly rumbling tumbril. By the time it had reached the town hall in the market place the original knot had grown to an ever increasing crowd. Men wearing official headgear appeared, spoke with gesticulations to the farmer on the cart, cast dubious glances at the barefoot man who rode beside him.

Hofmann understood none of the conversation except for the demand to descend from the vehicle and go into the police station near the town hall. This he ignored, preferring instead to remain where he was, pleading to be taken to an American airbase, in such pain as to be scarcely able to hold himself upright. A good fifteen minutes passed before the impasse was broken by the appearance of a US officer, an attractive young woman at his arm, who made their way to the waggon. A French official explained to the American that the man on the waggon was claiming to be a USAAF pilot. He persisted despite the inability of the American to understand what was being said, and the mademoiselle translated while running her fingers along the crease of her elegant friend’s uniform shirt. The American listened to the Frenchman’s doubts with patient amusement, glancing now and again at the strange figure on the driver’s seat, then asked the man where he came from.

Hofmann bent forward, almost fainted, and told the officer that he was a German who had been flying a captured aircraft to Cherbourg on behalf of the Wright Field Kommando and had crashed. He pointed to the parachute behind him, and asked the American to confirm what he had said by contacting Colonel Watson at the earliest possible moment.

The American hesitated for an instant, spoke a few words to his ladyfriend, who passed them on in French to the official, then instructed Hofmann to follow him.

Hofmann clenched his teeth as they helped him down from the waggon, asked the American to take his parachute and tried to walk. It was impossible. The French girl slipped her arm below his, told her friend to do the same and in that manner the trio passed through the mob, crossed the market place and made for a small apartment in a side street where the almost unconscious Hofmann was laid on a divan. The American telephoned to a USAAF base about 30 kilometres away. They were sceptical. They didn’t believe in a German ferry pilot working for the USAAF. Nothing was known of a missing Me 262. But if they liked to send the fellow over, they would soon sort him out. In June 1945 thousands upon thousands of Germans were on the run in Europe, probably most of them had been in the SS.

The father of the French girl offered to drive Hofmann to the US air base in his gas-driven automobile, provided Hofmann paid for the gas. The man had not yet perceived how his daughter was already the beneficiary of American wealth and trinkets, obtained for the usual consideration, while he remained in poverty. Finally he drove the German pilot, by now more dead than alive, to the US unit, got his fuel and disappeared.

The duty clerks looked at the barefoot stranger in perplexity. They listened to Hofmann’s story, then roared with laughter. The room filled quickly at the sound of such hilarity. They got great pleasure making the German repeat over and over that he was a test pilot responsible for training US aircrew from Wright Field to handle the Me 262. Of course, nobody believed the story, but you could always count on an SS fugitive to give you a run for your money. And they liked that. They liked to see a bit of fighting spirit. Someone wanted to throw him out on the street, another to fetch the French police and let them finish him off, but the majority were happy to see how the tale spun out.

Hofmann pointed to his torn parachute. There was his proof. Now they really laughed, for as they rightly explained, there were hundreds of such parachutes in the woods. It went on for an hour, Hofmann struggling to remain conscious, until eventually the CO appeared. With some hesitation he took the foreigner into his room and told him to repeat his story from the very beginning. With his last reserves of energy, Hofmann began his account from the arrival of American forces at Lechfeld in April 1945, two months earlier. When he concluded his account, he asked the base commander to contact Colonel Watson at Cherbourg. The commander was indecisive. Three times his hand strayed towards the telephone receiver before finally he picked it up.

‘I’m telling you, I don’t believe your story,’ he murmured, more to himself than to Hofmann, then finally began to dial. When Watson came to the phone at the other end, the commander asked him cautiously if he was missing an aircraft, a Messerschmitt 262 . . . ? Well yes, as a matter of fact we are short of one. Why, have you found it?

At last the ice was broken. Hofmann was brought to the sick bay where a young Jewish USAAF doctor speaking fluent German gave him an examination, an injection, bound his wounds and had him put to bed. The commander came for a short visit and the young doctor remained all night by Hofmann’s side. Next morning a DC-3 landed to fetch him. He was taken to an American clinic in Paris and nursed there until he was out of danger, at which time he was returned to Lechfeld at his own request. There it would be many more months before Ludwig Hofmann was completely recovered.

Tests on the Me 262 machines brought to Wright Field included a competitive fly-off against a USAAF Lockheed P-80 jet fighter. The German aircraft demonstrated its general superiority. Ludwig Hofmann’s flight with the Me 262 was the last by a German pilot below European skies. Test pilots in Britain, France, the United States, Czechoslovakia and perhaps the USSR flew them for a while before they took their place in aviation museums. One is to be found near Alexander Lippisch’s Me 163 in the German Museum at Munich near the He 176 and He 178 models. The former two of these four aircraft were those which – at the cost of many pilots’ lives – ushered in the most successful epoch of aviation.

15

Fritz Wendel’s Closing Report, 1945

O
n 5 June 1945, Fritz Wendel submitted a report regarding the operational use of the Me 262 between May 1944 and the war’s end. It is reproduced here unabridged and without comment because Wendel, as scarcely any other expert, has the competence to recount the impossible circumstances frustrating the proper and sensible use of the aircraft.

Wendel’s report supplies the unequivocal proof that from the outset, the heads of fighter command and their experienced advisers such as Galland, Gollob, Trautloft, Dahl and the rest were not mistaken in their judgement of the aircraft’s correct role. What he says confirms how opportunism, wishful thinking, error and human failing all contributed to an outstanding aircraft designed for one particular purpose being converted to a ‘multi-purpose’ machine, a tendency apparently impossible to eradicate which dogs us to the present day. Here is the report:

Messerschmitt AG Technical External Service
5.6.1945
Report by Flugkapitän Fritz Wendel
Re:
Me 262

1
About the middle of May 1944 the order came that the Me 262 was to be used only as a bomber. At the beginning of June, Major Schenk received instructions to become operational as soon as possible with a small bomber unit. At this time the Me 262 was ready for operations as a fighter. Its radius of action was only 200 km from the home aerodrome, otherwise it had to land elsewhere, but at least an operational unit was able to accrue the necessary frontline experience.

The fitting of supplementary fuel tanks was already planned and in the autumn of 1944 the first fighter wing went operational, using the aircraft with which the front trials group had assimilated its experience. It seems probable that in June 1944 when Major Schenk received his orders the conditions for fighter, but not bomber, operations had already been met.

As regards the bomber role, the following problems remained to be dealt with:

1. The range of the aircraft was insufficient for bomber operations. Its base had to lie at least 100 km behind the front line because of strong enemy fighter activity.
   
2. The undercarriage required strengthening to accommodate the heavier starting weight with a bombload.
   
3. The same applied to the tyres.
   
4. Once the supplementary tanks had been fitted, it was found that a problem occurred with the trim due to a shift in the centre of gravity after releasing the bombload in a shallow dive. Because two guns had been unshipped from the nose to reduce aircraft weight, the centre of gravity was initially much further aft than originally designed.
   

   The aircraft was fitted with two supplementary 600-litre fuel tanks, situated one forward and the other aft of the pilot. As the result of various tests in flight, and because they brought the all-up weight over the 7,000 kilos limit, it was decided to limit these tanks to 400 litres each. Complicated instructions were issued for consumption. The forward supplementary fuel tank was not equipped with a fuel gauge and the supply pump was prone to breakdown. Accordingly the actual contents of the tank at take-off were never known with any accuracy so that when the bombs were dropped there was often too much fuel in this tank. The result was a serious stability problem due to the release of the bombload combined with the aircraft being nose-heavy.
   

5. The single-seater Me 262 had no bombsight. When bombing in an inclined dive, the reflecting gunsight had to be used. The procedure had to be worked out first and then taught to pilots.
   
6. While this task was in hand, it was found that exceeding the permitted maximum speed of 850 kph could not be avoided with the originally fitted control surfaces. Replacement material of rolled plate had to be selected, tested and prepared prior to fitting.
   
7. No bomb-retaining mechanism was available and would require testing once delivered.
   
8. Numerous other modifications had to be introduced for speeds above 850 kph, for the fitting of supplementary fuel tanks and equipping the aircraft with rocket boosters for starts when laden with bombs.
   ⁷
   

Once all these difficulties had been overcome, Schenk’s operational flight of nine aircraft transferred to Juvincourt near Rheims at the beginning of August 1944.
⁸

Two of the nine crashed on take-off. Pilots had no experience of maximum weight take-offs as there had been no time for practice. A third machine made an emergency landing at Schwäbisch Hall and remained there for overhaul. A fourth put down in a meadow just short of Juvincourt. The cause here was again pilot inexperience. Shortly before this transfer a Führer-edict had been received to the effect that:

1. The Me 262 must not be flown at a speed exceeding 750 kph.
   
2. It must not be dived.
   
3. It must not descend below 12,000 feet when over enemy territory.
   

Whatever the concerns about speed which influenced the making of this order they were unfounded, for shortly before the transfer up to 1,000 kph had been achieved in angled dives on tests.
⁹
Bomb-aiming in horizontal flight was not possible using the reflecting gunsight. Accurate bombing was out of the question and Schenk’s wing therefore had no tactical successes. The unit was disbanded at the end of October 1944 by when it had taken delivery of about 25 aircraft.

The airfields used were Juvincourt and Rheine/Westphalia. In addition to the four casualties already mentioned which involved no personal injury, other losses sustained were as follows: when transferring from Juvincourt, a fifth aircraft which had been forced to fly with the undercarriage deployed was shot down by a Spitfire. The pilot escaped unharmed. The sixth and seventh aircraft failed to return to Rheine after a bombing mission over Liège. The eighth was shot down by enemy fighters, the pilot landed safely by parachute in German territory. Following fire in a turbine the ninth lost a wing and crashed. The pilot did not survive. The tenth crashed while taking off from the bomb-damaged runway at Rheine. The pilot escaped. The eleventh aircraft was shot down by enemy fighters while landing.

Schenk’s flight flew more than 400 individual sorties, many pilots recording up to six missions per day. Far more sorties were abandoned without reaching the target because of adverse weather conditions. The mechanical readiness for operations was very good. No emphasis was placed on shooting down enemy aircraft on these bombing missions. When Major Schenk made an experimental attack, however, his guns failed. It transpired that weapons testing had been ignored when the aircraft were converted to the bomber role, a serious setback when the machines reverted to being fighters later.