. I thought you may be interested also in what "Winkle" thought of the Stuka, from his "Wings of the Luftwaffe".
STUKA! What other acronym that saw common usage in Europe during the first eighteen or so months of World War ll could evoke such terror in the minds of so many? To those countless European refugees jamming the roads in frantic endeavour to escape the advancing Wehrmacht, Stuka was synonymous with death and destruction wrought from the sky with terrifying precision; in military circles it was the generally-accepted sobriquet of a warplane that had greater réclame than any other — the controversial Junkers Ju 87 dive bomber.
When first committed to combat, the Stuka — a derivation of Sturzkampfflugzeug which was a term descriptive of all dive bombers — was widely believed by its advocates, not least among whom was Ernst Udet, to be the supreme weapon. The legendary reputation that it acquired during the Polish and French campaigns lent credence to claims for its invincibility so assiduously propagated. But the Stuka was not solely a highly effective precision bombing instrument which, if not capable of ‘putting a bomb in a pickle barrel’, was at least able to hit its target in a diving attack with an accuracy of less than 30 yards; it was a mass demoraliser, hurtling vertically earthwards with a banshee-like wail that had a devastating psychological effect.
From its inception, the Luftwaffe had displayed a marked predilection for the Stuka. The service was first and foremost a tool for the direct support of the ground forces and the Stuka was seen as a successor to long-range artillery. Unfortunately for the Luftwaffe, use of the Stuka presupposed control of the air; a desirable situation that was to be enjoyed increasingly rarely as the conflict progressed. Once control of the air could no longer be guaranteed, the Stuka, in the form of the Ju 87, had become an anachronism. Sturdy and tractable a warplane though this angularly ugly creation of the Junkers Flugzeugund \/Iotorenwerke undoubtedly was, it was also the natural prey of the fighter, and the sight of the Ju 87’s evil-looking shape sitting squarely in his gunsight was the dream of every fighter pilot. The career of the Iu 87 had reached its zenith over France, had entered its eclipse over the British Isles and had seen its nadir over the Soviet Union.
This was all in the past, however, by the time I finally found an opportunity to realise my ambition to fly this once much-vaunted warplane. I had gained considerable experience of dive bombing techniques with the Blackburn Skua, the Vultee Vengeance and the Douglas Dauntless. While none of these had been a hot rod in so far as level flight performance was concerned, I was convinced that all three were a cut above the Ju 87 which, inview of its reputation, must therefore have something of which I was unaware up its sleeve.
The opportunity arose on 23 August 1945 at Husum, in Schleswig Holstein, not far from the Danish border. Some of the more obsolescent ex-Luftwaffe hardware had wound up at this airfield and included in this miscellany was a solitary Ju 87D-3, presumably flown in by some pilot as the Third Reich finally crumbled. A cursory inspection of this rugged-looking juggernaut revealed the fact that all gun armament had been removed — possibly for use with ground defensive positions during the last days of fighting —and that, in general, it was in pretty good shape. There was certainly no evidence to suggest that it had ever been flown operationally, and despite the anachronistic appearance of the aircraft, I formed the opinion that it could not have come off the 'Weser’ Flugzeugbau assembly line much earlier than the previous summer.
The Ju 87D was obviously a machine of great solidity, with its heavy cranked wings, sturdily braced tailplane and massive fixed undercarriage. From its broad-bladed Junkers VS 11 constant-speed airscrew to the trim tabs on its big, square cut rudder, the Junkers dive bomber gave an impression of immensity and certainly a lot of aeroplane for one engine to pull — in this case a liquid-cooled 12-cylinder Junkers Jumo 21 ll-l which gave 1,420hp at 2,600 rpm and 1,190hp at 2,400 rpm. The cowling embodied quite an amount of armour plate to protect engine and cooler, and I was to discover liberal quantities of additional armour distributed beneath and around the two cockpits, whose occupants would have had little else going for them if they had encountered a determined fighter.
Relatively few of the WW II German aircraft could be considered beautiful in the accepted sense. But the Ju 87D was undeniably ugly in the true sense, and it was hard to believe that this sub-type of the Stuka had represented a serious attempt on the part of the aerodynamicists to clean up the basic design. Its predecessor, the Ju 87B, could certainly have been the product of an aerodynamicist’s nightmare, with its fixed spatted undercarriage and large radiator bath looking, head on, for all the world like the extended talons and gaping maw of some monstrous bird. The Ju 87D, on the other hand, lacked some of the angularity of the earlier model but was not, in my view, much of an improvement aesthetically, and its design was incredibly obsolescent. Small wonder that, apart from its service with 1 Gruppe led by the inveterate Hans-Ulrich Rudel which persisted in flying this aged warbird by daylight on the Eastern Front, the Ju 87 had spent much of its declining operational years in the nocturnal assault role with the Nachtschlachtgruppen.
Big enough and slow enough...
I clambered into the pilot's cockpit and settled down to look around, and my first impression of a very big aeroplane for one engine was reaffirmed. Following the Pilot's Notes, I placed the fuel cock in the ‘both tanks’ position, gave a few strokes of primer, switched on the fuel booster pumps, set the throttle to figure ‘1' on the quadrant, switched on both magnetos and energised the inertia starter and booster coil by pushing a handle on the lower left side for 10 seconds, then pulling out the handle until the engine fired. Warm up could be made up to 1,600 rpm on the brakes but higher revs demanded that the tail be anchored in case the aircraft nosed over. After such anchoring, the engine was run up to 2,200 rpm and 1.3 atas of boost, and then throttled back to 1.0 ata for magneto checks. After the engine checks the tail anchorage was released and the aircraft was taxied with the tailwheel lock in the free position. I found that the aircraft needed controlled braking to manoeuvre and was sensitive to any crosswind.
Before taking off it was necessary to straighten out and lock the tailwheel, switch the fuel pumps on, set the flaps to take-off position, the trims to zero and airscrew pitch lever to START. The Ju 87D-3 was fairly lightly loaded and with full power accelerated surprisingly well, unsticking at about 116km/h (72mph) in a distance of some 457m (500 yards). The climb was made at 2,300 rpm and 1.15 atas of boost, the flaps retracting mean-while until two signal lamps indicated that they had reached the zero position. Climbing speed could then be increased to 215km/h (133mph) and was eased off 10km/h (6mph) for every 1,000m (3,280ft) of altitude gained. At an altitude of 3,500m (1l,480ft) the supercharger was moved from low gear to the automatic position, but climb throughout was laborious.
Once settled down to the cruise the feeling of vulnerability became almost oppressive, probably accentuated by the high position of the pilot's seat and the good visibility through the large glasshouse canopy. The Ju 87D was big enough and slow enough to present an ideal target to the humblest tyro among fighter pilots and it rnust even have corne high in the popularity stakes with anti-aircraft gunners. Certainly its large ailerons failed to instil any liveliness into evasive manoeuvres, and although its elevators were reasonably light the aircraft was just too stable longitudinally to be very manoeuvrable. It was hardly surprising that once Soviet fighters of respectable performance began to put in an appearance in quantity over the Eastern Front the Ju 87D-equipped Stukagruppen were decimated.
There could be no doubt that the Ju 87D needed fighter cover on its way to a target area as surely as a fish needs water. But my consuming interest was to learn how this aircraft, anachronism though it undoubtedly was, performed in the area in which it had displayed such astonishing bombing accuracy and precision in its heyday. So I flew out over the North Sea to put in some dive bombing practice on the mudbanks that lie off the coast.
The check list for preparing the Ju 87D to enter the dive was as follows:
Landing flaps at cruise position
Elevator trim at cruise position
Rudder trim at cruise position
irscrew pitch set at cruise
Contact altimeter switched on
Contact altimeter set to release altitude
Supercharger set at automatic
Throttle pulled right back
Cooler flaps closed
Dive brakes opened
This last action made the aircraft nose over into the dive under the influence of the pull-out mechanism which was actuated by the opening of the dive brakes which also actuated the safety pilot control. The most difficult thing in dive bombing training is overestimating the dive angle which invariably feels much steeper than it actually is. Every dive bomber of WW ll vintage featured some form of synthetic aid to judging dive angle, and in the lu 87 this consisted simply of a series of lines of inclination marked on the starboard front side screen of the cockpit.
These marks, when aligned with the horizon, gave dive angles of 30 degrees to 90 degrees. Now a dive angle of 90 degrees is a pretty palpitating experience for it always feels as if the aircraft is over the vertical and is bunting, and all this while terra firma is rushing closer with apparently suicidal rapidity. In fact, I have rarely seen a specialist dive bomber put over 70 degrees in a dive, but the Ju 87 was a genuine 90 degrees screamer! For some indefinable reason the Ju 87D felt right standing on its nose, and the acceleration to 540km/h (335mph) was reached in about 1,370m (4,500ft). Speed thereafter crept slowly up to the absolute permitted limit of 600km/h (373mph) so that the feeling of being on a runaway roller-coaster experienced with most other dive bombers was missing.
As speed built up, the nose of the Ju 87 was used as the aiming mark. The elevators were moderately light in the initial stages of the dive but they heavied up considerably as speed built up. Any alterations in azimuth to keep the aiming mark on the target could be made accurately by use of the ailerons. These also heavied up as speed increased but always remained very effective. Use of the elevator or rudder trimmers in a dive or pull-out was strictly forbidden. During the dive it was necessary to watch the signal light on the contact altimeter, and when it came on, the knob on the control column was depressed to initiate the automatic pull-out at 6’g’, a 450-m (1,475-ft) height margin being required to complete the manoeuvre. The automatic pull-out mechanism had a high reputation for reliability, but in the event of failure the pull-out could be effected with a full-blooded pull on the control column, aided by judicious operation of the elevator trimmer to override the safety pilot control.
The sequence of events on selecting the dive brakes was most interesting. On extension of the brakes, red indicators protruded from each wing upper surface. This action automatically brought into play the safety pilot control and the dive recovery mechanism. The object of the latter was to return the elevator trimmer flaps to their normal position after release of the bomb, thus initiating pull-out from the dive which had been started by the elevator trim being brought into action to nose the aircraft over. The safety pilot control was a restriction introduced into the control column movement whereby this was limited by means of hydraulic pressure to a pull of only 5 degrees from the neutral position, thus obviating excessive g loads in pulling-out. In an emergency this restriction could be overridden to give a 13 degrees movement. Once the aircraft had its nose safely pointed above the horizon from the pull-out, the dive brakes were retracted, the airscrew pitch set to take-off/climb and the throttle opened up to 1.15 atas of boost, although in conditions of enemy flak it was recommended that the full 1.35 atas be used. The radiator flaps were then opened.
When I finally turned for Schleswig, to \/vhere 1 was supposed to deliver the Ju 87D-3, I must confess that I had had a more enjoyable hour's dive bombing practice than I had ever experienced with any other aircraft of this specialist type. Somehow the Ju 87D did not appear to find its natural element until it was diving steeply. it seemed quite normal to stand this aircraft on its nose in a vertical dive because its acceleration had none of that uncontrollable runaway feeling associated with a 90 degree inclination in an aircraft like the Skua. Obviously, the fixed undercarriage and the large-span dive brakes of the Junkers were a highly effective drag combination.
However, the Ju 87D also had a reputation for standing on its nose in an entirely different context — during a landing! Although a somewhat ponderous aircraft, it could carry out all normal aerobatics, and it was easy and fairly pleasant to fly, but a three-point landing was desirable every time. A structural weakness in the undercarriage could lead to failure of the upper mainwheel fork and a subsequent collapse of the wheel assembly, particularly on a rough airfield surface. The leg could collapse forward or backward, and in the latter case there was a grave danger of the aircraft turning over on its back with somewhat dire results for the crew which could expect little protection from the cockpit canopy. Another weak point was the tailwheel, and the Pilot's Notes gave warning that unless a three-point landing was achieved there was danger of tailwheel damage.
Duly warned, I set about the simple preparations for landing at Schleswig which were to reduce speed to about 200km/h (1 25mph), select flaps down on the crosswind leg at approximately 180km/h (112mph), lock tailwheel, set airscrew pitch to fully fine and approach at 150km/h (93mph), progressively reducing to 120km/h (75mph) at hold-off. View for landing was excellent, the brakes proved powerful and could be applied almost immediately after a three-pointer, and the landing run was very short indeed. The Ju 87D could, I understand, be landed with full bombload or, in an emergency, with the dive brakes extended, although to three-point the aircraft in the latter circumstances apparently required a 27-kg (60-lb) pull on the control column to overcome the safety pilot control.
The Ju 87 will always be associated with the victorious German blitzkrieg tactics employed in Poland and France during the first year of WW ll; campaigns that fulfilled the most sanguine expectations of the Stuka’s protagonists. lts first encounter with determined tighter opposition was during the Battle of Britain. This forced the withdrawal of the Ju 87-equipped Stukagruppen frorn the Cherbourg area to the Pas de Calais where they were to sit out the final phases of that epic conflict, pricked the Ju 87's bubble of success and revealed the fact that this aircraft had become an anachronism in the context of fighting in the West. But the day of the Stuka was far from over, for the Ju 87 was to enjoy further successes wherever the Luftwaffe succeeded in maintaining a measure of mastery in the air, the Stukagruppen ensuring that even the Soviet campaign initially proved a repetition of the debacle suffered by the French.
The Ju 87 was, nevertheless, a poorly armed, somewhat cumbersome and highly vulnerable aircraft by any standard. Yet it was the mount that carried the most highly-decorated Knight's Cross winner of the war - Hans-Ulrich Rudel who flew no fewer than 2,530 sorties and claimed the destruction of 519 tanks! That Rudel should have survived the war that he fought almost exclusively in this obsolescent Junkers design must speak volumes not only for his piloting skill but also for the capabilities of his rear gunner, who also won the Ritterkreuz. It will always remain a mystery to me how these stalwarts escaped destruction if there were any enemy fighter pilots of even mediocre skill in the same area of sky as their Ju 87. There is no gainsaying the fact, however, that shortcomings galore though the Junkers dive bomber undoubtedly possessed, it gave resolute service from 0426 hours on l September 1939, when three Ju 87Bs of 3.Staffel of Stuka-geschwader 1 took-off from Elbing for the first bombing sortie of WW ll, until the closing months of the war when the Ju 87D soldiered on with several Nachtschlachtgruppen and its tank-busting derivative, the Ju 87G, fought on with the specialized anti-tank Staffein.