One of Hauptmann August Fischer's most complicated night hunts, Staffelkapitàn at NJG 100, was when he attacked an antique Soviet Polikarpov Po-2 (U-2) biplane that was on
a mission nocturnal intrusion. The modest performance and maneuverability of this diminutive aircraft made it difficult prey for a fast night fighter.
The Soviets used many such biplanes to systematically harass,
and only at night, German troops on the Eastern Front.
It is this memorable hunt that is described in the following account.
Excerpt from August Fischer's book:Bis der Wind umsprang ("Until the wind has turned"). Published by Engelbert Verlag, Balve, 1961.
The front is now beginning to crumble in its central portion. The airfield at Orsha, where our units were based for so long and where we felt at home, is under threat. Two platoons from my group have moved to Dokudovo.
We are carrying out our first patrol in the area controlled by the Borneo II radar station mounted in a railway car. Rôhrs communicated our altitude:4,000 m.
“Descend to 3,000 m.
Borneo, question, do you have an enemy plane for me?
No, we don't have a goal yet, but if either comes up , it probably won't be at a higher altitude.
Are your targets flying slowly?
Affirmative; they fly slowly.
Did you hear, Captain? It looks like
crabs approaching,” Rôhrs says.
Tautor waves his hand dismissively. The onboard radar indicator jumps and settles in the middle of the screen, the spot indicating the position is transverse; I turn left. I engage my Ju 88 in a lazy downward spiral towards 3,000 ni.
“Altitude, three, zero.
Got it, altitude three, zero. »
Like a leaden weight, a bad mood came over me. I had not yet, among all my missions, shot down a crab, that is to say a U-2 or an R-5. These small targets that you suddenly identify in the dark disappear immediately and so quickly that you don't even have time to orient your camera to fire the on-board weapons fixed in the nose; even if we could manage it, we risk ramming the biplane, flying at a lower speed of more than 100 km/h, before opening fire.
However, we have the "Schrâge Musik", the two cannons firing obliquely upwards, which we could trigger when we overshot our target from below.
But these considerations do not make me more optimistic, because I I have too many bitter disappointments behind me.
I try to banish the horrible image that arises from the past. Tracer bullets criss-cross far below us, like specters moving from position to position, war ignores sleep. -one-zero. »
We gave chase. I reduce the throttle and I hold my Ju 88, I extend the flaps to 45°. I'm already feeling the hunter streak and my heart is beating faster.
"Head two-eight-zero."
Got it. We are moving towards the goal. Altitude?
Altitude two, eight.
Got it. »
I cut the gas as I turn. The W7 + AL slumps and falls. I go over the gas at 2,750 m altitude and synchronize the engines. The badin displays almost 200 km / h. With the flaps extended, the Ju responds poorly to rudder movements.
"I'm asking for the distance to the target.
Distance seven.”
I take a look at the watch to calculate the shooting distance. The 88 has already started to climb again, but only slightly.
Hein has the special glasses in front of his eyes and stares, dazed, ahead. “Range three. »
It took us 2 minutes to cover 4 km, but we are still flying 120 km/h faster than our prey. I extend the flaps completely, brake the engines even more and I make it even more difficult to trim the plane, because the rear is heavy with the high nose-up torque.
"You are behind the enemy.
I've got it, Captain! It's a U-2! Do you see it too?
No, huh, I don't see anything.
Straight ahead, about 50m higher.
Yes, I have it in mind now.
Borneo, enemy in sight.
Understood, enemy in sight. »
I delicately slide the Ju to the left and I turn the rheostat, located in the ceiling of the cabin, so as not to be blinded by the collimator.
The silhouette of the U-2 travels through the crosshairs, I carefully adjust it, gauge its range and fire. Both cannons thud in their hold. Sparks shoot upwards and disappear into the silhouette of the Russian plane. The U-2 embarks abruptly from the left wing and dives vertically 10 m in front of us.
I quickly retract the flaps and throw the W7 AL into a turn
on the edge and to the left. The three of us look down, but there is nothing to see. Was the U-2 hit? The pilot, sitting in a plywood fuselage without any protection, was he dead? Did our explosive shells rip his limbs apart and, wounded, did he lose control of his machine? Was it a fall or just a dive to escape our shot? Who will tell us? We don't see any fire on the ground.
Borneo asks if we attacked.
“Affirmative. We attacked, but have no kills.
Got it. Head seven-zero. We still have one for you.
Got it. We're going to seven-zero. »
A few minutes later, a similar assault comes along. I open fire a little earlier, the distance may not have been correct the first time. This time the Russian pilot steered the biplane into a sharp left turn on a heading opposite mine and disappeared into the darkness at the time.
“We have just made our attack.
Winless again?
Affirmative. We haven't seen a win. »
Tautor said to me, in a convinced tone:“Captain, we have fired too long. He observed it with his special glasses and must know what he is talking about.
"No, eh, I think that for the second plane, the right wing was on fire," adds Rôhrs. He was able to see the enemy aircraft longer because he is sitting with his back to the forward direction and seeing behind.
Do you really believe it, Chrischan? We should have noticed it anyway.
Captain, you shouldn't expect a U-2 or R-5 to burn like large appliances.
Yes, it is plausible, my captain, confirms Tautor who straps himself. »
We returned to the base 10 minutes later.
A few days later, the Borneo station fighter guidance officer called us:a lieutenant- colonel on the first position saw a biplane on fire fall during the night in question, in the no man's land between the trenches, and saw it explode.