The Battle of Britain (13 page)

Another of Douhet's precepts, that Germany did not fulfil and Britain did, was ‘Modern war is an industrial war, in the sense that the troops are no more than the workers in an immense factory for the destruction of men and objects. The value of any army depends on the worth, the perfection and the number of machines it possesses . . . war is a game of economics . . . it is necessary to have means suitable to the end that one wishes to attain.'

In electronics, Germany was in some ways ahead of Britain. For Lufthansa's benefit – and that of the future bomber crews it was training – night flying and blind flying aids had received more attention than in any other country. As early as 1926 there were 13 radio stations and a chain of beacons. In the 1930s airports began to install the Lorenz beam approach system. Although radar had been invented in Germany in 1904 and neglected until development was resumed 30 years later, General Wolfgang Martini, Director of Luftwaffe Signals, was ignorant of the superiority of British equipment until it was too late, during the Battle of Britain.

The first demand for radar, in 1934, was not made by the Luftwaffe but by the German Navy for gun ranging, target search and air surveillance. In 1936 the Luftwaffe began to examine radar as a means of aircraft detection and ordered a dozen 240cm, 125MHz sets that could read range and azimuth. They were codenamed Freya, after the Norse Venus who sacrificed her honour for a magic necklace guarded by Heimdall, the watchman of the gods who could see a hundred miles by day or night. In fact the Freya's range was 75 miles (120km). The first experimental site
was being set up on the North Sea coast when war broke out. In July 1939, 200 more were ordered. At the same time work began on a 53cm, 566MHz type, the Würzburg, of which 800 were eventually ordered for the Flak arm and began to be delivered during the Battle of Britain. Their range was only 30 miles (48km) but they could estimate height. Although German scientists were competent, there was no central coordination of their work and no liaison between the flying and anti-aircraft branches of the Luftwaffe.

The German listening service was comparable with Britain's and as effective. Lacking a control and reporting system as ingenious and mature as the RAF's, the Luftwaffe had to resort to passing information to fighters by radio from listening posts.

For the guidance of bombers a beam system had been developed from the Lorenz blind landing equipment, codenamed Knickebein – Crooked Leg. The bomber received signals from Germany on its 30MHz Lorenz beam-approach landing sets. A continuous note indicated to the pilot that he was following the beam accurately towards his target. If he drifted to the left he heard dots; to the right, dashes. An additional note – accurate only to within 1,640ft (500m) – warned that he was over the target and should bomb. For a nation that did not care how many civilians it killed as long as its bombs were somewhere near the target, it served well enough.

The Luftwaffe intelligence organisation, Abteilung (Department) Five, was formed on January 1938 under Major Josef Schmidt, who was neither a pilot nor a linguist. His equivalent in the RAF was Air Commodore Goddard – a pilot who knew German and French – a disparity in rank which indicates the relative importance that the opposing Services placed on intelligence. Schmidt relied heavily on information from Air Attachés, particularly Oberst Wenniger in London, with whom Goddard was on most friendly terms although always guarded. Schmidt used occasions such as the annual air display at Hendon and Empire Air Day for a sight of British aircraft and military airfields, and counted on the press for general information. He had the benefit of further airfield and target intelligence obtained from photographic reconnaissance by Heinkel 111Cs with civil markings, based near Berlin and ostensibly carrying out proving flights on potential new European civil air routes.

Before and during the Battle of Britain little could be learned from interrogating prisoners of war, as viritually all British aircrew who were
shot down landed in England or behind the Allied lines in France. Once the RAF abandoned France, the Luftwaffe also lost the ability to glean new technical intelligence from the wreckage of downed enemy aircraft. The basic business of espionage was also most ineptly performed: the majority of spies who landed in Britain by sea or parachute were quickly caught.

Schmidt's first summary of comparative effectiveness, in early 1939, was ill-informed. He described the RAF as ‘much out of date' and Britain's defences as ‘still weak'. German aircraft, he claimed, were superior, with their advantage in armament, armoured fuel tanks and flying instruments. He calculated that the RAF had 200 first-line fighters. The actual strength was 608. He made a better guess about bombers: 500, only 36 short of the real number.

In November he delivered a plan for the attack on Britain, in which he gave as priority targets ports and supply lines. He named London, Liverpool, Bristol, Glasgow and Hull as the most important objectives: not only to destroy shipping but also dockyards, food warehouses and oil storage tanks.

On July 16, 1940 he submitted a comparative survey of Luftwaffe and RAF striking power, in which he assessed the British bomber force as 400 Hampdens, 350 Wellingtons, 300 Whitleys and 100 Hudsons. The Air Ministry's weekly ‘State of Aircraft' dated July 14 shows 96 Hampdens and 55 in reserve; 128 Wellingtons and 28 in reserve; 96 Whitleys and 56 in reserve; 105 Hudsons with a further 11 in reserve.

About the quality of senior RAF officers, he was as fatuous. They were, he alleged, badly out of touch with modern conditions of air warfare and no longer in flying practice. The truth was that RAF Wing Commanders and Group Captains commanding stations flew often. When war came many of them took part in operations. Air Vice Marshal Park went up in his Hurricane to see the air battle over France for himself. The Luftwaffe's leadership at all levels was inferior to the RAF's. The outbreak of war found Goering as Commander-in-Chief, with General Hans Jeschonnek as Chief of Air Staff.

Instead of functional Commands, the Luftwaffe was organised in Air Fleets, each of which comprised fighter, bomber and reconnaissance functions. The biggest tactical formation was a Geschwader (G), consisting of three Gruppen. Within a Gruppe (Gr) there were three or four Staffeln. The Staffel, the equivalent of an RAF squadron, numbered 12 to 16
aircraft and 20 to 25 pilots. The smallest element in a fighter Staffel was a pair, or Rotte; the smallest element in a bomber squadron, was three aircraft, a Kette.

Other formations, which had no fixed establishment, were: Fliegerkorps (Flying Corps); Fliegerdivision (Flying Division); Luftgaukommando (Air District Command).

The system for identifying Staffeln, Geschwader and Gruppen was somewhat convoluted. A Gruppe's number was shown in Roman numerals, a Geschwader's and Staffel's in Arabic numerals.

Kampfgeschwader (bomber), was abbreviated to KG; Jagdgeschwader (fighter) to JG; Stukageschwader (dive bomber) to StG; Zerstörergeschwader (destroyer, i.e. heavy fighter) to ZG; Nachtjagdgeschwader (night fighter) to NJG; Aufklärungsgruppe (Fern), (reconnaissance long range) to Aufkl Gr (F); Küstenfliegergruppe (coastal) to Kü Fl Gr; Lehrgeschwader (operational training) to LG; Erprobungs (proving or test) to Epr. A ground attack or close support formation was suffixed Schlacht (battle).

II JG 26 meant No. 2 Gruppe of Jagdgeschwader 26, 2 JG 26 meant Staffel No. 2 of Jagdgeschwader 26.

A Gruppe Kommandeur's staff (Stab) was the Gruppe's Headquarters unit (Gruppenstab) and included an HQ Flight (Stabsschwarm) of four aircraft, which he led on operations. A Geschwader Kommodore had a similar HQ unit and flight.

F
ifty years ago, Adler Tag, the ‘Day of Eagles', found Hermann Goering supremely confident in the outcome of the immense assault on the United Kingdom that was about to be launched by his Luftwaffe. On that fateful thirteenth day of August, which was to mark the commencement of the aerial offensive proper, the Reichsmarschall was convinced, and not without some justification, that the warplanes that he, as Oberbefehlshaber der Luftwaffe, was committing to the attack had no peers. They were manned by the best-trained and most experienced crews available to any air arm in the world.

The aircraft of the Luftwaffe had been proven in combat; their crews had been blooded over Spain, Poland, France and the Low Countries. How could Adler Tag signify anything but commencement of an operation that would end in yet another victory for the Third Reich? Goering saw every reason to assure his Führer that what opposition could be expected from the Royal Air Force would be despatched, probably within days; that his Kinder (‘children') would soon be roaming British skies without let or hindrance.

Unfortunately for the loquacious Reichsmarschall, whose technical knowledge fell far short of that which his position warranted, his single-seat fighters, even then taking-off from their bases in the Pas de Calais and
elsewhere, lacked sufficient endurance for the type of campaign on which they were about to embark. The conceptual limitations of his long-range heavy fighters had still to be understood and his bombers possessed defensive armament that presupposed a measure of Luftwaffe air superiority.

Furthermore, he and his staff had been deluded by the so-called ‘Studie Blau', the vital, yet fundamentally inaccurate, intelligence appraisal of RAF capabilities prepared by the Operations Staff of the Oberkommando der Luftwaffe. Thus, unknowingly, the Luftwaffe was being committed on that day to a gruelling battle of attrition for which it was ill equipped; a battle from which it was eventually to withdraw battered and exhausted – the aerial drama of all time: the ‘Battle of Britain'.

Of the dramatis personae of the epic aerial conflict that was to unfold over Southern England in the weeks that followed, it was to be the pilots of the single-seat fighters of the opposing sides that, contemporaneously at least, were to receive the most acclaim. This was understandable in view of the more emotive part that they played in the drama. Indeed, today, a half-century later, military aviation's annals devote more attention to their activities than to those of the crews manning other participating warplanes.

In so far as the Royal Air Force was concerned, its role of defender entirely justified the emphasis placed on the exploits of its fighter pilots. For the Luftwaffe, the aggressor, the situation was different, however, for its single-seat fighters had a supporting task, their primary mission being protection of the bomber forces engaged. How well they fulfilled this role during the historic encounter remains to this day a matter for contention. Nonetheless, of the personnel operating the six basic types of warplane employed by the Luftwaffe during the Battle, it was the pilots of the Bf 109E single-seat fighter that were then and remain to this day the prima donnas of the German effort; those responsible for the major share of the combat losses sustained by their opponents. Their Messerschmitt mount was to become virtually synonymous with this episode of World War II.

There can be no doubt that the Bf 109E flown by all elements of the Jagdflieger involved in the Battle was a highly competent warplane; as outstanding a fighting machine as either of its principal opponents, Hurricane or Spitfire, and a highly dangerous adversary. By the time that this Messerschmitt fighter appeared in force in British skies, it was the object
of carefully fostered mystique; a myth of invincibility assiduously created by the Propaganda Ministry in Berlin. In some respects, the Luftwaffe itself was to fall victim to this myth as a result of the comparative ease with which the Bf 109E had conquered all pre-Battle adversaries.

There was nothing mysterious about the Bf 109E, however. It was a well-conceived, soundly-designed fighter that, like its opponents, possessed its share of shortcomings. It offered excellent handling characteristics and response at low and medium speeds; it was extremely stable, could be pulled round in high-
g
turns, and its climb and dive performances were second to none. On the debit side, its controls tended to heavy up as speed increased, demanding more physical effort from its pilot than did its British contemporaries; the absence of a trimmer necessitated continuous application of rudder in order to fly straight at high speeds, and it suffered an incipient swing during take-off and landing. A big advantage was its direct fuel injection which was much superior to the carburettor feed of its British opponents, but there was little to choose between Bf 109E and Spitfire between 12,000 and 17,000ft (3,660 and 5,180m), the German fighter being undeniably superior above 20,000ft (6,100m).

Designed by Dipl-Ing Willy Messerschmitt and Dipl-Ing Robert Lusser, the Bf 109 flew some months before the Hurricane or Spitfire, on May 28, 1935, with Hans Dietrich ‘Bubi' Knoetzsch at the controls, For this event, which took place at the small factory airfield between Augsburg and Haunstetten, the first prototype had been fitted with a Rolls-Royce Kestrel V liquid-cooled inline engine affording 695hp for take-off, its intended Junkers Jumo 210 engine being unavailable. When first arriving at the Erprobungsstelle, or Proving Centre, of the Luftwaffe, the E-Stelle test and evaluation pilots looked askance at this then radical and highly innovative fighting machine. Its steep ground angle, with poor view for taxying in consequence, its cramped cockpit with sideways-hingeing canopy, its narrow-track undercarriage and its automatic wing leading-edge slots aroused extreme scepticism among the conventionalists.

Second and third prototypes were meanwhile completed with the intended Jumo 210A inverted-vee engine rated at 680hp for take-off; the Messerschmitt fighter gained the approbation of the Luftwaffenführungsstab, the Operations Staff, and, in March 1936, the decision was taken to build the Bf 109 as the next service fighter of the Luftwaffe. This
production decision virtually coincided with the first flight of the Spitfire prototype, the German fighter's future principal antagonist.