Anti-Aircraft Defenses of German U-Boats

In the early years of World War II, Germany’s U-Bootwaffes roamed, almost with impunity, the sea trade routes of the Western Allies, engaging and sinking their extremely vital ships at an alarming rate. It wasn’t until the Allies began to implement a sophisticated system of long rage, air patrols over the Atlantic that the tide of the submarine war finally began to turn in their favor.

Because most of Germany’s U-boat force was incapable of prolonged, submerged patrol times, they became easy targets for praying allied medium and heavy bombers covering the North Atlantic.

Engaging and hitting allied patrol airplanes became the sub’s main objective from late 1943 to the end of the war in May ‘45. In an attempt to achieve this task, each boat was fitted with a vast array of defensive weapon systems.

The submarine’s main anti-aircraft weapon was the 2CM Flak Gun. Two basic designs of this uninspired looking but tremendously effective flak system were employed. The first operating 2CM was the No. 30. The thirty was a single barrel weapon with a 360 degree traverse and capable of a two degree depression and 90 degree elevation. It fired a 0.32kg shell capable of reaching distances of up to 12,350 meters. What made this weapon so effective was it impressive cycle rate of 480 rounds per minute.

The second improved version of the 2CM was Flak 38. Similar to the 30 but capable of reaching a cycle rate of 960 rounds per minute, the 38 was arguably the best German, light attack weapon of World War II.

Another light weapon used by U-Boats to fend-off attackers was the 3.7CM M/42 Flak Gun. In the bottom half of the war, most German submarines were fitted with the 42nd platform. It fired a .73Kg shell up to a distance of 15,350m. Maximum firing cycle was 50 rounds per minute.

Those two weapon systems accounted for almost 85 percentage of all hit allied aircraft. Official numbers regarding hit aircraft varies from source to source, but the most reliable figure (coming from British-generated documents released in the mid 1950s) puts the amount at 247 from the spring of 1944 to April 1945.

Although it was not intended as a primary anit-aircraft weapon, the vaunted 8.8CM Schiffskanone Deck Gun was also used in that role, especially towards the end of the war. This remarkable 8.8 gun employed by the German navy was not directly related to the more famous, 8.8 Acht-Acht flack gun utilized by the army as an anti-tank weapon. The CM was purely a naval gun developed in the waning days of World War One.

The gun was mounted on a low box, forward of the conning tower. It could traverse through a field of 360 degrees. Its -4 degrees depressed parameter and 30 degree elevation capacity were two of the most impressive features of this remarkable weapon. The gun fired a 13.7kg high explosive shell at a 700m/sec muzzle velocity. It had a solid impact range of up to 12,350m.

Manned by a three man crew, the CM was a powerful, horizontal weapon that when used against sea-based platforms, it caused heavy damage. As the U-Boats began to sustain alarming losses to Allied preying bombers, German crews commenced utilizing their main armament on incoming enemy aircraft. Although their use on that type of environment wasn’t tested before the war, the gun performed well.

Data on the numbers of downed allied aircraft hit by the 8.8CM is not reliable. But unofficial accounts put the numbers in the low 50s. Much of that amount was accounted for between the autumn of 1944 and the spring of 1945.

Aside from those three defensive weapons, German submarines carried a limited amount of small caliber fire arms including 9mm and 7.62mm hand guns. Nine mm machine guns and some 7.92mm rapid fire rifles. No data on hit aircraft by these weapons are available.

Of course, no weapon can be effective if the enemy isn’t spotted. For long range detection, the U-boats employed the Funkmessorungsgerat (Fu) MO-29 Radar. The MO-29 was used primarily on Type IV boats as well as some Type VIIs. The 29 was simple to utilize thanks to its twin horizontal rows of eight dipoles on the upper front part of the conning tower.

On the top row laid the transmitters and in the lower one, the receivers. An improved version of the 29 was introduced in the summer of 1942. In that version, known as No. 30, the diploes were replaced by a retractable antenna which was housed in a slot in the tower. Although relative powerful for the time, this system barely was able to detect surface vessels because of the low position of it’s mounting in respect to the horizon.

A more complex system, FuMB1 or the ‘Metox’ was introduced in the fall of 1942. This system was utilized in conjunction with a raw, wooden cross antenna strung with copper wire know as the ‘Biscay Cross’. But as with the early Fus platforms, this unit wasn’t that reliable. In fact, a case could be made that their use was highly detrimental to the sub’s survival thanks to the Metox’s volatile emissions which were easily detectable by Allied radars.

By November 1943, the Germans had finally developed what would become the world’s first true, all around naval radar. Born out of desperation, FuMB7 combined Metox and Naxos emissions to give U-boat commanders a first rate, long range detection system. Further enhancements were performed (the FuMB24 and 25) to the base MB7 giving it an extended operational radius.

Aside from the radar, maybe the most ingenious defensive measure used by German submarines was the Focke-Achgelis. The ‘Focke’ was basically a manned rotary glider with a triple blade rotor. It was as simple to operate as it was to assemble. Housed in a storage cylinder on the afterdeck, the Focke was quickly armed and launched. It remained connected to the U-boat by an umbilical cord. From its advantageous position high above the sub (10-12,000 feet), the pilot could spot any target approaching the boat. Unfortunately for the Focke, if the U-boat came under direct attack, there was no time to reel it in, thus the sub cut the cord and left the pilot to defend himself until all was cleared to surface back again.

More effective than the Focke-Achgelis was the Aphrodite. It was a basic devise consisting of a large (one meter diameter) hydrogen-filled balloon from which dangled small strips of metal foil. It was attached to the sub by way of an anchor weight. Its main purpose was to confuse allied aircraft utilizing radar navigational systems.

Largest Airplane Ever

Can you believe that the largest airplane ever measured was more than 275 feet long and featured a wing span of 290 feet? Well, it did! The Russian An-225 Cossnak may be considered the largest airplane ever built, but there are other largest airplane ever facts out there to consider when learning about super-large-scale aircraft. Here are just a few:

• the An-225 Cossnack had a miximum takeoff weight of 1,322,770 pounds!
• The An-124 Condor is the second largest plane to be produced in the world (it too is Russian). It measures 226 feet 8.5 inches, and has a wingspan of 240 feet 5.75 inches.
• The C-5 Galaxy (an American-made plane) ranks third with a length of only 247 feet 10 inches, a wingspan of 222 feet 8.5 inches. It carries a mere 837,000 pounds compared to its Russian counterparts.
• The largest pusher plane in the world is the B-36 Peacemaker, made by Convair - USA. It is 162 feet 1 inch long and features a 230 foot wingspan
• The HK-1 Spruce Goose (more commonly known as the H-4) I featured the largest wingspan in aviation history — 320 feet long, with a height of 80 feet, a length of 218 feet, 6 inches.

For aviation specialists, it can be difficult to choose the largest airplane ever built since so many things can be considered in the calculation: the body length; wingspan and of course lift-off capacity.

Lyndon Johnson Helicopter s51

It may not seem odd these days to watch a political candidate whirl into a campaign stop riding a private plane or helicopter, but in 1948 it sure was. Imagine the excitement when the Lyndon Johnson helicopter s51 flew all over Texas, carrying Senate candidate Lyndon Baines Johnson to and from a variety of campaign stops.

With unlimited funds, the wealthy Johnson was able to buy an s51 helicopter to travel the state during the campaign which he ultimately won. He was the first politician to use a helicopter as a transportation devise during a campaign. Here are a few basic facts about the Lyndon Johnson Helicopter s51:

• The s51 helicopter became available for commercial use in 1946. It was only the second commercial helicopter ever sold to the public.
• Lyndon B. Johnson used an s51 helicopter during the spring and summer of 1948 in his campaign for the U.S. Senate in Texas
• The s51 is a twin engine helicopter
• The Lyndon Johnson helicopter s51 was the first ever used in a U.S. political campaign
• The s51 was manufactured by American helicopter company, Sikorsky Aircraft Corporation

Although Lyndon Johnson may have been the first politician to utilize the helicopter for quick entry and exits on his campaign stops, he certainly wasn’t the last. Today, the helicopter is used frequently as an inexpensive form of transportation for politicians and businessmen alike.

United States Deterrence Systems and Strategies at the Beginning of the Cold War

When World War II ended in September 1945, the United States of America was the most powerful economic and military country in the world. Sole possessor of the mighty atom bomb, in possession of the most advance conventional weapon systems in the world and the world power that was the least affected by the destruction of four dramatic years of fighting. The US, confident that peace would reign in the world for at least a decade, started demobilizing its massive armed force apparatus and curtailed the development of new weapon systems. World events changed all this very quickly. The wartime military relationship that existed between America and the Soviet Union promptly soured. In the years that followed the end of the war, the Soviet regime moved to consolidate its hold on the countries of Eastern Europe. They did not stop there. The Soviets wanted to spread communism to all parts of the globe. After Eastern Europe, they planned to move towards Asia. In America, the US armed forces continued their downsizing in 1946 despite the increasing evidence that Red Russia were continuing to build their military forces. During the early years of World War II, the Soviet Union was forced to move most of its industrial base outside their capital, Moscow. As a result, by mid to late 1940s, they possessed a large, albeit crude, military complex. The Soviets started a crash course to develop new weapon systems to increase their already massive land and air forces. Gathering information from espionage activities around the world, their own scientific research data and capture of German scientists, the Soviet Union was by mid 1946 in a full rearmament mode. In the meantime, their leaders were moving promptly in securing their country’s position as an equal to that of the United States. Political and military leaders in the West watched these disturbing developments within their former allied with uneasiness.

In March 1946, former wartime British Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, gave a powerful and prophetic speech at Westminster College stating that: “from Stettin in the Baltic to Trieste in the Adriatic, an Iron Curtain has descended across Europe”. He was right of course. Tension would increment when on October 23rd, 1947, American intelligence officials noted the existence of a high number of Soviet made Tu-4 “Bull” bombers. The Bull was a textbook case of reverse-engineering a copy of the huge Boeing B-29 bomber. The Soviets got their hands on a few examples of the B-29 when they crash landed on Soviet territory after sustaining damages during bombings runs over Japan late in the war. These bombers gave the Soviet Union for the first time the ability to hit targets in continental America. By the beginning of 1948, all but the essential communication links between the one-time allies had ceased. Then on the morning of April 1st, 1948, the Soviets closed all land access to the divided city of Berlin, deep behind the Soviet Occupation Zone. The land blockade lasted until September 30th, 1949; three days after President Harry Truman informed a stunning nation that the Russians had succeeded in exploding an atom bomb, ending the short-lived United State monopoly on nuclear weapons. All these developments, occurring in such a short times span, prompted concern in the ability of the US armed forces to defend the homeland. Accordingly to the times in 1947, the United States government proceeded to make one of the most overwhelming reorganizations of its political and military structure. The War Department, stabled since the incorporation of the Colonies, was replaced with the new Department of Defense. The Army retained all of its ground forces, the Navy retained their assets, but the air arm of the Army became a separate service, the newly and independent military service was the US Air Force. As soon as the new Air Force enters service, it started to flex its political power. It was often at odds with the Army brass over the control of nuclear weapons systems as well as who should be in control of the country’s air defenses. As the 1940s passed and the 1950s began, US weapons development systems were in constant turmoil because of the inter service rivalry that was forming between the three services. Both the Army and the Air Force fought feverishly for control over the development and deployment of a surface-to-air missile system, and the three services sought to develop independently long range ballistic missile programs.

The outbreak of hostilities in the Korean Peninsula in 1950 put all the squabbling to rest. The US Army de-activated most components of its artillery department and reorganized them in the newly created Army Anti-Aircraft Command (ARAACOM). The ARAACOM was assigned the task to deploy antiaircraft artillery on sixty six key locations inside the United States as a stopgap until a missile defense system were available. About the same time, the US Air Force was assigned control of America’s ballistic missile research and developing program. In the mid 1950s the Air Defense Command (ADC) became the main strategic command, coordinating the defenses of continental United States. With this massive undertaking, the Air Force was awarded a bigger piece of the budgetary pie. Funds were now available for the development of new types of nuclear weapons, new long range heavy bombers and the big prize, the guided long range ballistic missile. The priority of funding went to the research and development of a strategic long range surface-to-surface missile, an offensive missile system. The leaders at the Pentagon envisioned an offensive missile system so powerful that it by itself deterred any possible preemptive nuclear attack by the Soviets. The deployment of these missiles clearly implies the ability of the US to achieve a massive retaliation capability upon the attacker. The role of these missile and that of their ability to lunch a massive un-surviving counterattack would be discussed during most of the years of the Cold War. Military, as well as political leaders would use the leverage that this system gave to them to bargain and to achieve political and military concessions from the Soviets and America.

Because the design and development of an operational guided long range ballistic missile system seems to many in Washington as a more technical plausible weapon platform than the development of a comprehensive strategic missile defense system. The decision was made to pursue the offensive ballistic missile system first. Working on the strategic defense system was put on the back burner. America’s strategic doctrine underwent numerous changes during the course of the Cold War. Then, during the 1950s, the Eisenhower Administration pursued a military doctrine that called for a scale back in conventional force military expending and increasing the nuclear strike force in order to make it clear to the Soviet Union that the United States had the weapons and the means to deliver a massive nuclear blow at the Soviet Union if they decided to launch a first strike campaign. Critics of this new policy, known as New Look, pointed to the administration that there was no assurance that the US arsenal could survive a Soviet nuclear attack. When the new Kennedy Administration took office in 1961, they brought a fresh look at the world strategic situation. Flexible Response was born. This new military doctrine called for a mixture of conventional and nuclear forces, which could be tailor made to threats in a proportionate manner. The success of this new policy would be the backbone of United States Military posture during the next thirty five years.

A Brief Look at the United States Defensive Missile Systems from 1945 to 2004 - Part 1

During the years that followed the end of World War II, the Western Democracies, lead by the United States, and the Soviet-lead Eastern Bloc were locked in a political, economical, ideological and sometimes military battle known as the Cold War. In the military arena, both main superpowers, were developing more advanced offensive weapon systems like the long-range bomber and the new intercontinental ballistic missile system as a mean to safeguard each country against the possibility of a preemptive strike by the other superpower.

A counterweight was needed to be found in order to defend the United States against this possibility. With the development of the nuclear bomb and later the thermonuclear bomb, the battlefield was changed for ever. All existing defensive systems were rendered obsolete the moment the bomb was delivered to Nagasaki. The awesome power of this new weapon altered the Pentagon’s defense strategy.

In the past, the United States mainland defenses were focused at an conventional invasion attempt. Now, with the realization that a massive nuclear attack could cripple most of the country in hours, the United States military planners began to construct a new defense posture. The new posture was centered around the means of stopping the enemy ability to produce a surprise nuclear strike. This means stopping the bombers and the offensive ballistic missiles. By the mid 1950s, after an extended period of research and the development, the U.S. was able to field a first generation antiaircraft missile system that was capable of delivering conventional or nuclear warheads at incoming bomber formations. At the same time, both the United States and the Soviet Union were moving ahead with the development of a series of offensive missile platforms that could deliver a bigger nuclear payload against ground targets located thousand of miles away. The need to defend the home land was more imperative now that at any time in the history of the United States. The development and fielding of workable defensive missile system was giving top priority by the U.S. government.

These missile systems were the ultimate in weapon development of the era. Massive amounts resources were invested in the research and development of these missile systems. This book will provide the reader with an overview of the fixed, land-based defensive missile systems developed by the United States during the years of the Cold War. The NIKE, BOMARC and Safe Guard programs will be discussed as well as the deterrence missile systems, the Atlas, Titan, Minuteman and Peacekeeper will also be discussed. The book end with a brief look at the future of the United States antiballistic missile defenses in the 21st century.

An article by Raul Colon: rcolonfrias@yahoo.com

Air Attack on the German Oil Industry

The swift focus of the Allied bomber campaign against the German’s oil industry had immediate and far-reaching effects, compared with the 175,000 tons of aviation fuel it produced in April 1944. In June of that same year, German oil production fell to just over 55,000 tons, less than a third of the previous years output. Unless something was done, and done very soon, the Luftwaffe could find itself with insufficient aviation fuel to continue to sustain air operations. As an initial move to change the situation, large numbers of anti-aircraft batteries were transferred from other areas inside Germany, to protect the oil industry refineries. The 14th Flak division was assigned responsibility for the defense of the industry district at Leipzig, which included the most vaunted oil production plants at Leuna-Merseburg, Bohlen, Troglitz, Espenhain and Mucheln. All would receive the bulk of the anti aircraft pieces, a move made in order to strengthen the Division. By the beginning of May, the Division had in its possession 374 heavy caliber guns, 342 of the 8.8cm caliber, 24 of 10.5cm and 8 of 12.8cm caliber. Immediately after the combined allied offensive against the oil industry commenced, the energetic General Adolf Gerlach was appointed to the command of the Division. He received a visit from Riechsminiter Albert Speer, who made it clear that unless the sector refineries were kept working, the war was as good as lost. When Gerlach assumed command of the Division, there had been 104 heavy guns protecting the large Leuna-Merserburg production complex, he demanded, and received, sufficient weapons to bring about a six fold strengthening of the flack defenses ringing that particular target.

Having secured as much of the larger guns he needed, Gerlach set about to increase its tactical effectiveness. During the attack at the plant, US heavy bombers dropped huge quantities of “chaff” and radiated a cacophony of noise jamming that effectively neutralized the German Wuzburg flack control radar system. As a result of this tactic, during day bombing, the gunners were forced to abandon the use of radar-laid fire and resorted to optical predicted fire. If the clouds and enemy countermeasures prevented accurate predicted fire, the gunners would put up a box barrage. All guns fire at the same point in the sky just short of where it was calculated that the bombers would release the bombs, by disrupting the bombing run in this way, the accuracy of the attack could be greatly reduced. This method was highly extravagant in the use of ammunitions, however, and it was permitted to be used only in the direct defense of high priority targets such as oil refineries. US bomber crews rated the oil refineries and chemical plants around Leipzig as the most heavily defended areas against air attack. In addition to these active defense measures, passive measures were also introduced to lessen the effects of the constant bombing. Concrete reinforced blast walls were built around items of vulnerable machinery, and a warren of deep shelters under the plants enable its workers to remain near at hand during the bombing attacks and emerge afterwards to extinguish the fires before they took hold. Although by this time the German Army was short of skilled manpower, they shifted seven thousand engineers for employment in rapid repair brigades at the refineries and a large number of slave workers, primarily Russian prisoners of war, were drafted in to assist with this work. Finally, to ensure that morale at these facilities did not flag under the intense Allied bombardment, the work force came under “special supervision” from Heinrich Himmler’s feared Security Service.

As a further measure to safeguard German’s precious oil production, Edmund Geilenberg was appointed head of a far reaching program to build a network of new refineries that would be far less vulnerable to air bombardment. For the indispensable production of aviation fuel, he and his staff laid plans for the construction of seven underground hydro generation plants. Lower grade motor fuel was to be produced in 41 much smaller facilities situated above ground but widely dispersed in woods and quarries, each carefully camouflaged and individually too small to make an attractive target to the bombers. Geilenberg made full use of the authority given to him to tale labor and materials from other industries, and his labor force was built up rapidly to more than a third of a million workers. He was planning to have several of the motor fuel producing plants ready to enter service by the autumn of 1944, but despite great efforts by Geilenberg and his staff, the first underground plant was not due to produce aviation fuel until well into the spring of 1945. In fact, no aviation fuel came from this source as the war ended on April 1945. During this period, German rocket fighters went into action several times in defense of refineries in the Leipzig area. On the 16th of August, the US Eighth Air Force, known as the Mighty Eight, put up a thousand bombers to attack a spread of targets in central Germany, including the oil refineries at Bohlen. Five Me 163s were scrambled, and two were promptly shot down without inflicting any damage to the raiding force.

The Messerschmitt 163 achieved its first aerial victory just one week after the event, on August 24th. Eight of the smaller fighters took off from fields on Brandis to engage a bomber force of some 185 B-17s running into attack the refinery at Marseburg. Feldwebel Siegfried Schubert carried out a successful interception of the force and shot down two Flying Fortresses, other pilots from the same unit shot down two more units. Two Me 163s were damaged, one by return fire from a B-17 gunner and the other by a landing accident. It had been a successful day for this new jet fighter and seemed to be important for its future as a bomber-destroyer airplane. But in the end, when the Me163s scored four bombers destroyed that day, were to be the high mark point of its operational career. On September 24, Squadron 400 reported that it had nineteen Messerschmitt Me 163s in operation, of which just eleven were serviceable. By that time over a hundred of these jet fighters had been delivered to the Luftwaffe, and it is clear that the factor limiting operational employment was not aircraft but trained pilots. Now it was clear that the hope for salvation for the German Fighter Force was not going to come from this quarter. During September, Squadron 400 operated on five different occasions, the 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th and the 28th. The largest of these operations was the last one, when nine of the diminutive planes were committed.

The relative short range of the Me 163 meant that accurate ground control was essential if the fighters were to be used effectively. Such controled operations was not always forthcoming, however, and only a small proportion of the fighters reached firing positions. During September 1944, the Me 163 program suffered a disaster from which it would never recover fully. In bombings attacks on the towns of Leverkusen and Ludwigshaven that month, two of the main sources of hydrazine and hydrate suffered serious damage and production was greatly reduced by it. For the remainder of the war, shortages of this chemical fuel would dog the 163. A major competitor for this limited chemical fuel was the Fi 103 flying bomb, which used it to power the catapult system that fires them into the air. The Fi 103 enjoyed a higher priority for supplies than the Me 163 programs. At the same time, the piston engine fighter units continued to mount defensive attacks against bomber formations, and from time to time they were able to pick their way past the American fighter screens and deliver their special brand of saturation attacks on an unexpected bomber. On September 27th, Squadron 4 delivered a sharp attack on the 445th Bomber group and in three furious minutes, it shot down 28 Liberator bombers out of a total of 37 dispatched. It would be the heaviest loss ever suffered by the US Bomber Group on a single mission. On the following day, the Squadron No. 3 assailed the 41st Combat Wing and shot down eighteen Flying Fortresses before the arrival of strong forces of escorts, preventing the slaughter to continue. Just over a week later, October 6th, a Squadron drawn from the 4th and 300th fought a similarly brisk battle with the 4th combat Bomber Wing and shot down fourteen B-17s.

Despite that such actions brought disaster upon the individual bomber units involved, their effect on the US bombing offensive as a whole was not. During the three days mentioned before, heavy bombers of the US Eight Army Air Forces flew a grand total of 3,275 successful sorties for a loss of some 81 units, less than 2.5 percent of the total. And that, it must be stressed, was on three days when the German defenders were relatively successful. Each passing day, when the weather permitted, the US Eighth and Thirteen Air Forces would send more than a thousand heavy bombers to attack targets across Germany and the occupied territories and on most days, losses were less than 1 percent of the total force involved. The German night fighter force had not recovered from the neutralization of its early warning radar system when it suffered a further calamity. The loss of French territory to the Allies had torn a gapping hole on Germany’s early tracking radar chain, which the Royal Air Force now exploited by routing bombers from that direction during attack on the south and western parts of Germany. Even as signals personnel struggled to reposition radar dishes to plug this breach there came a further blow; the fuel famine started to take effect and forced a curtailment of night fighter activities.

Then, to add to the worsening situation, No 100 Group of the RAF began to make its present felt during the night air battles. The Group operated five squadrons of heavy bombers modified into special jamming aircrafts, B-17 Fortresses, B-24 Liberators, Halifaxes and Stirlings. These aircraft were able to carry a large quantity of “windows” of all types, as well as noise-jamming equipment to counter the German’s Wurzburg fire control system and the Freya, Mammut, Wassermann and Jagdschloss radars that made up the German early warning chains. In addition, some of the aircraft carried “Jostle”, a high power jammer to blot out the night fighter’s radio communication channels. No 100 comprised of six squadrons of Mosquito night fighters carrying special systems to enable them to operate against their Luftwaffe counterparts deep inside the Third Reich. Homing on to radar emissions was a game that two could play, and in addition to AI radar some of the Mosquitos carried “Serrate”, which enabled them to home in on emissions from the German night fighter’s SN-2 radars. Other Mosquitos carried “Perfectos”, which transmitted interrogating pulses to trigger the identification friend or foe (IFF) sets of German aircraft in the area. When Germans IFF sets replied, their signals betrayed the range and bearing of the aircraft and identified it to the Mosquito crews as hostile. Several German aircrafts were shot down following “Perfectos” contacts, and many others were lost when German crews, having heard of the system, flew with IFF switched off and were shot down by their own flak.

But despite the presence of the Mosquito in the night battles, the German night fighter force suffered a far lower rate of attrition than its day fighter counterparts. But No. 100 group’s operation imposed considerable pressure on the German defenses, which in combination with the other factors, allowed the RAF night bombers to operate at will over the German sky with minimal losses. Throughout this period, the German oil industry was hit hard and repeatly. An example of the fate of the German oil industry, in the hands of the Allied bombing offensive happened in the spring of 1944, when one of the largest producers of synthetic oil, the Amoniakwerk Merseburg plant at Leuna, who produced about one sixth of the total German production. The huge plant sprawled over an area of 757 acres, and in addition to liquid fuels it produced ammonia, methanol and various types of industrial alcohol from coke and brown coal. The first large scale attack that happened at the plant was from 224 Flying Fortresses of the Eighth Air Force, which took place on May 12th, even before the Allied main offensive against the German oil industry began. That initial attack brought a halt to fuel production. During the next six months, the plant was attacked twelve more times. Time after time the plant was hit hard and production halted, as if one of the prize-fighters had been knocked to the ground. But each time it picked itself up and production resumed. At first the recovery was quickly and almost complete, but as the accumulation of punishment began to tell, the recovery became progressively slower and less complete.

Compared with 175,000 tons of aviation fuel produced in April, in August there were only 16,000 tons and in September a mere 7,000 tons. Throughout that summer, the Luftwaffe kept going on its fat, the reserves of over half a million tons of aviation fuel it had accumulated previously. With consumption running far in excess of production, by the beginning of September more than half this reserve had been consumed; from a high point of about 580,000 tons at the beginning of May, stocks were only about 180,000 tons at the end of September. Now the harsh reality of the shortfall of fuel production could not be avoided. Operation by the Luftwaffes medium and heavy bombers were sharply curtailed, the use of aerial reconnaissance was limited, air operations in support of the Army were permitted only in decisive situations, and the number of night fighter sorties was cut back. Only day fighter operations in defense of the Fatherland were allowed to continue at their previous level. Meanwhile, in Germany the production of combat aircrafts, and in particular fighter types, had risen to unprecedented levels. The Luftwaffe was about to stage a remarkable recovery in fighting strength.

An article by Raul Colon: rcolonfrias@yahoo.com

Revolution in the Air: Gallaudet’s D-5, DM-5 and D-7 Models

In the winter of 1917, the Gallaudet Engineering Company finally completed their much anticipated land monoplane that used their patented Gallaudet-Drive Mechanism, a revolutionary engine driving a remote, mid-fuselage mounted propeller. The newly produced aircraft, call signed D-5, were to be the Company’s first true landplane platform after years of experimenting with the famous D-2 biplane.

In early January 1918, the company was submerged in developing the D-4 project, a tactical fighter for which they would receive a construction contract the following month from the United States Navy. But despite the immense work being done on the 4 model, Gallaudet engineers still found time to explore new ideas such as the 5 type. This new design was to use the reliable Liberty engine, first tested years before on American Expeditionary Force’s Farmans. Gallaudet designers use the D-5 project as a test bed for new technology. Chief among them was a cantilever wing structure with a thick airfoil, which have the distinction of being the first such wing design fitted into an American-develop air platform.

On the morning of January 7th, the company officially submitted a proposal to W.F. Durand; chairman of the influential NACA, for transmittal to the Aircraft Board for the building of what Edson Gallaudet called a “200-mph fighting monoplane”. The 5’s general arrangement is dated January 6th, so this proximity to the proposal and the lack of another competing design at this period, makes it almost certain that the D-5 was the 200-mph plane. Attached to the letter Durand received on the 7th were several detailed blueprints and specification sheets, with one of them being the D-5.

The designed D-5 was a mid-winged monoplane powered by a Liberty engine mounted on the nose. It had a 39′ wing span. The fuselage was 30′4″ in length and possessed a height of 7′-9″. The vaunted Liberty drove a mid-frame two blade propeller. The pilot was seated in an open cockpit between the engine and the propeller. The reconnaissance officer or observer as was call at the times, sat behind the propeller. Two fuel tanks were fitted at the front and the rear of the pilot’s seat. Tail surfaces were identically to the D-4, except for the absent of stub fins. The tail skid was an extension of the small rudder post. A cantilevered, thick and tapered wing gave the plane a distinct look.

Another departure from the D-4 was the use of rectangular spars in the fuselage’s cross section. The ailerons had an inverse taper with a wide base at the tips. A tall, fixed landing gear was fastened between the two wing spars near the wing root, which is estimated to be at 12 percent, thicker than usual for the era. The relative small air frame made it a necessity for the Liberty engine’s upper and down sections to be expose to the air stream.

During the early part of the March 1918, Gallaudet surprised the nascent aviation industry with another monoplane design, DM-5. the ‘M’ designation suggest a modified version of another platform, although no official documentation has been found to prove it. At the heart of the new version lay basically an improved D-5. The airframe was extended to 3′6″ wide and by 4′ high in order to fully enclose the Liberty engine. Still, the motor was big enough, in comparison with the mid frame, that the bottom oil sump was not covered. The wing was now a constant chord with a thin airfoil and no longer cantilevered, with a streamlined bracing line on top and bottom to the front and rear spars.

The ‘M’ concept called for two rectangular outlines on the wing’s surfaces near the root, which served as airfoil radiators similar to the ones used on the D-4. The biggest departure from the D-5 model was the incorporation of a retractable landing gear. A single leg per wheel retracted forward into the nose section beside the engine. The front of the airframe was composed on tubular longerons connected with cast bronze fittings braced by thin wires. The engine bearers appeared to have been built-up, sheet metal channel type as used on the D-4. There were three wing spars. All widest at the brazing wires attachment points and tapered from there towards both the tips and fuselage. The spars were rectangular in section and constructed out of metal sheet. The top and bottom parts of the aircraft were channel-shaped of .0625″ of thickness and the webs were .025″. All held together by an eight to a quarter diameter rivets.

Another of Gallaudet’s lesser known designs is the D-7 Mail Carrier. The drawing, which probably was made accordingly to a mid-1918 request by the United States government, was the project less coveted by Edson Gallaudet at that time frame. Unfortunately, little is know about the concept beyond its indented purposes of transporting mail through the air. But the few sketches that had survived pain a picture of a truly remarkable aeroplane. The design looks like a slightly larger, fixed landing gear version of the ‘M’ version. There are no indications of pilot seating or cockpit arrangement. No engine area is visible on the incomplete blue print. Span was to be around fifty feet. Fuselage length was 30′3″ with a total wing area of 337.5 square feet. The wing had two spars which were only indicated by a single dotted line on the paper. The rest of the data is missing or inconclusive.

It’s a testament to his innovating vision that almost a century later, all three models, D-5, DM-5 and D-7, are once again gaining the interest of aviation aficionados the world over.

The Aeroplane as a Long Range Gun, Journal of the Royal Artillery, R.G. Cherry, June 1919
Alpha, Bravo, Delta: Guide to the U.S. Air Force, Walter J. Boyne, editor, Penguin Books 2003
The Encyclopedia of Military Aircraft, Robert Jackson, Parragon Publishing, 2002
The Early Aviation History, American Years, Edward Von der Porten, Crowell Company, 1969

An article by Raul Colon: rcolonfrias@yahoo.com

The Magnificant DH-4B

The extraordinary DH-4B and M model has, among many titles and distinction, being the first American developed fighter to achieve full squadron certification. In essence, the backbone of the nascence United States Army Air Service at a time when America lacked a true dedicated ‘pursuit’ plane. From late 1917 to 1918, this venerable biplane was the best observation-bombing platform in the Army’s inventory and one of the cornerstones in the growth of the US air power over the next century. Unfortunately, few surviving records of individual planes from 1919 to 1926 exists, thus the full story of this remarkable plane has never been completed.

Designed and built in the United Kingdom during the early part of 1916 as the de Havilland D.H.4, the type was selected by the Air Service as the most complete combat aircraft which the US, without a proven and available fighter of their own, that they could take over and mass produce in a relatively short time. The first ‘Americanized’ version of the DH-4 came out of the production lines by the winter of 1917. It had a different silloete from the original British-built sample. For instance, it possessed a new and more powerful engine, as the recently developed Liberty 12A engine was capable of producing up to 435 hp compared to 250 of the original motors.

Although the Liberty gave the plane a new dimension in combat, it did not solve the longstanding problem associated with the aircraft: its reputation of catching fire while in the air. The main culprit was the 67 gallon main fuel tank located between the pilot and the spotter. Before the end of World War One, this was rectified in one new airplane modification, the DH-4B, by moving the tank forward and the pilot aft, where he was behind it and just in front of his observer. In addition, the main landing gear was moved forward slightly in order to overcome the natural tendency of the aircraft to nose over. Plans were crafted to modify all DH-4 to the B version, but the end of the war put a clamp to the idea.

By November 1918, a total of 3,431 DH-4s had been built, with 2,089 of these shipped overseas. Production was estimated at a 260 units per week. One thousand, four hundred and fifteen more units were develop after the war. Total production of this venerable flying platform reached 4,846. Nearly 75 percent of them were constructed by the Dayton-Wright Company, 1,600 by Fisher Body and 140 by the Standard Aircraft Corporation. All units were utilized by the Army Air Service with serial numbers raging between 22000 and 33000.

The US Navy also employed the DH-4, albeit, in limited numbers. Between January 1917 and June 1918, the Army transferred the Navy 150 units. Around 50 of them went overseas to serve with the Navy-Marine Northern Bombing Group stationed in Belgium. Of the 2,297 shipped to the European Theater, 1,101 of them saw full combat action with the Air Corps. On November 11th 1918, the day the Armistice went into effect, 213 were deployed by the seven observation and five bombing Air Service squadrons.

Overall, 286 DH-4s were lost during almost a year of combat, only 37 of them over the enemy lines. The Air Service deployed 203 at their supply depots, 129 were allocated to the Zone of Advance and 270 were used as trainers. Of the remaining units (1,147), some were lost in training service, with the vast majority never receiving an assignment.

In the early months of 1919, the Service shipped back to the States 612 decommissioned units. The remaining, which were certified as ‘not salvageable”, were burned in a massive fire dubbed “The Billion Dollar Bonfire”. The cost of their destruction was less than shipping them back home where there was no need for additional planes.

Beyond this point, the DH-4’s story is clouded in misinformation. From fragmented evidence it appears that most of the surviving planes constructed left the factories in shipping crates. Several hundreds of these were assembled and served in the US Army inventory during 1918-19. After the Armistice, the machinery and those planes shipped back from Europe were stored. From 1919 onward, the fledgling Air Service received almost no funds for the purchasing of newer models. Any money invested was use for acquiring DH-4s. Crated types were shipped to a manufacturer for refitting and conversion to the B configuration. Such work has an indirect effect of keeping American manufacturing base running at a time where the industry was stalling for lack of new orders.

The first batch of refitted aircrafts was for 75 samples, all coming out of four companies’ assembly lines (Thomas-Morse, Gallaudet, Aeromarine and LWF). The orders were filled between the bottom half of 1919 and the beginning of 1920. All delivered DH-4B were given new Air Service serial numbers raging from 62900 to 63400. Subsequently, there were a number of other orders for 4B conversions. Boeing Airplane Company made eleven in the early part of March 1920 to serial in the 63000 range. Dayton-Wright also joined the effort and by early 1921 had converted 20 samples, all tagged withy serials in the 64000 range. In the spring of that year, some further conversions were ordered with the 68000 serial tags.

On July 1st, the Air Service implemented a new serial number system where the first two digits represented the fiscal year of the order and the other numbers were then assigned to the individual aircraft. The first batch of DH-4s modified under this new mechanism was given serials in the 22 to 350 range. In 1923 Boeing was ordered to build fifty more units, serials 22-1000 to 1049. At the same time, other companies filled similar orders. Witteman completed 50 units (22-1050 to 1099), the same as Aeromarine produced 50 (22-1100 to 1149) and Thomas-Mores did 49 (22-1150 to 1198). These planes were delivered in late 1922 and early 1923. Additional, small batches, around 25 each, were made in fiscal 1923 and 1924 by two relative unknown companies. Gallaudet (23-600) and Cox-Klemin (23-700).

Finally, some single DH-4s were further altered to 4 standards by various Air Depots. Ninety seven former Air Service DH-4s which has been converted to the 4B configuration were transferred to the Navy (BuNos A-5809/5814, 5834/5839, 5870/5884, 5982/6001 and 6352/6401). In addition, the Navy converted six (A-3384, 3393, 3394, 3398, 3402 and 3445) of its original planes to the new standard.

An article by Raul Colon: rcolonfrias@yahoo.com

A French Pioneer ‘South of the Border’ Part I

Without a doubt, the Bleriot XI monoplane was one of the most revolutionizing aircraft of the Twentieth Century. Designed and built by the famous French pioneer, Louis Bleriot, it became a staple in the early days of aviation when, with his inventor at the controls, it managed to cross the English Channel on the morning of July 25th 1909. The amazing feat placed Bleriot and France atop of the nascent aeronautical world. Commencing in the fall of 1909, this deceptively flimsy-looking aircraft was the object of attention bfor many countries in the world. Surprisingly, leading the charge to acquire the aeroplane were a hosts of South American nations. This early and substantial interest was mostly influenced by the exploits of Alberto Santos-Dumont. The Brazilian born pilot and adventurer captured the hearts and minds of all who saw him perform daredevil stunts. Much of Latin American was bombarded by tails of his success, and several of his failures in the world of aeronautics.

Much like in the United States and Europe, heavier-than-air flight in Latin America prior to 1914 was viewed as an expression of self achievement. Like an artist stamping his painting with one remarkable canvas, South American pilots were planting their flag in the world of the aircraft one step at the time. Flying and everything involved with it sparked passion in a male-driven Latin America. While it’s relatively easy to associate early flight with wealth and power, there is ample evidence that men of modest means and ample courage were also engaged in the trait. Young men and women too, from Buenos Aires to Rio de Janeiro began to dream about flying. In short, a revolution had begun South of the Border.

It is against this backdrop that the Bleriot XI made his long awaited début. The first South America country to receive a XI was Argentina. Following the July 1909 feat, the Buenos Aires government purchased two samples of the airplane. Both fitted with a rudimentary 25 horsepower Gnome engine. Both units departed Marseille for the Argentinean coast aboard the steamer Parana. Accompanying the two Bleriots; three Vosin biplanes and a single Santos-Dumont. On the 2,000 mile trip were some of the biggest names in aviation. Louis Moriaud, Emilio Edwards, George Richet, Henri Bregi and Emile Auburn were all part of the Bleriot-Argentina package.

The two XIs arrived in the austral republic on March 2nd, 1910. Three days later, and with the 29 year-old Auburn at the controls, Argentina had its first Bleriot airborne. The following day, Auburn took the aircraft on what was widely accepted to be South America’s first night flight. Impressed with the new airplane’s performance, the Aero Club Argentino, one of the oldest aeronautical organizations in the Americas, sponsored the continent’s first aviation meet at Villa Lugano, just seven years after the Wright Brother’s experiments at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. It was a resounding success as the Bleriot joined with a Henri Farman sample to produce one of the most memorable days in the country’s history.

By the middle of November, two more French daredevils, Armand Prevost and Rene Volant, arrived in Argentina with another XI, this time powered by a 25 horsepower Anzani engine. The duo performed stunts all over the country and even ventured outside it when they flew the XI to the city of Concepcion, Uruguay. The flow of Bleriot pilots continued. In the summer of 1910, Bartolomeo Cattaneo, an Italian who resided in Paris, came to Buenos Aires with the intention to teach aviation to the Argentinean capital resident. His first pupil was a young man named Leopoldo Delphyn, who became one of the few locals to actually own a XI.

In mid August Cattaneo was approached by Nicholous Mihanoutch, a Russian-born banker who had resided in Buenos Aires since the turn of the century, to make a demonstration flight across the broad Rio de la Plata from the austral capital to Montevideo, Uruguay. For this ground breaking venture, Delphyn’s XI was fitted with a 50hp Gnome power plant. On September 16th, the Italian took-off from a rudimentary field outside the capital’s suburbs; he made it as far as Real de San Carlos in the Uruguayan province of Colonia, a distance of 58 kilometers, 32 short of his intended objective. Two days later, he managed to complete the journey.

The record breaking attempts continued. On December 1st, 1912, Argentinean Army Corporal, Teodoro Fels, performed the longest, over water flight in history when he flew a XI unit from its first operational home base at El Palomar in the outskirts of the capital, to Montevideo, Uruguay, then on from there to Talas-Berisso and from that point, back to El Palomar, on the third day of his epic adventure, all over the broad estuary of the Rio de la Plata. A total of 150 miles were covered in a time of two hours and twenty minutes. The Corporal wanted to make the return journey the same day, but his plane experienced engine trouble obliged him to delay it for one day. The following morning he made it back to the Bleriot’s base. The unprecedented achievement sparked even more record setting attempts. On January 1911, an Army flying instructor, Alberto Mascias, flew a XI sample at an altitude of 3,000 meter. Leaving the ground at 6:40 in the morning (local time), he climbed steadily to 2,000m, flying in the direction of Lujan. He remained at that altitude for around twelve minutes.

On May 1913, the Bleriot fleet was augmented by two additional units as XI-type 2 arrived in the country. These machines were fitted with a more powerful motor, an 80hp Gnome Omega engine. A year later, and with France and much of Europe involved in the Great War, Argentina stopped receiving Bleriots. Still, two ordered units managed to make the trip to the Land of the Gauchos before 1916. By April 1918, the Army was able to field one full (seven units) squadron of Bleriot. Six more XI were used by the Escuela de Aviacion Militar (Army Aviation School) for training and testing. Nevertheless, by this time attrition and the post war surplus glut of more capable airplanes took their toll. By 1919, only two operational units remained in service. These Bleriots were active due mostly because sentimental reasons amongst the senior cradle at the School who saw them as the source of their initial knowledge about aviation.

The Argentinean affection with the Bleriot XI was expressed in the time-honored fashion of indigenous builder Pablo Castaibert, whose 25hp Anzani powered 1911 monoplane bore an uncanny resemblance to the fabolus French design. Today, a single genuine XI, possible the oldest surviving plane in Latin America, still exist in Argentina. Fitted with a 25hp Anzani engine, it is reportedly to be one of the two airplanes of the type exported to the nation by Mestre et Blage, a French firm, in 1910.

References

Air Power: The men, machines, and ideas that revolutionized war, from Kitty Hawk to Gulf War II, Stephen Budiansky, Penguins Books 2004
The Way of the Fighter, Clarie Chennault, Putman Books 1949
The Complete Story of Latin America, Charles Marison, Penguin Books 1992

An article by Raul Colon: rcolonfrias@yahoo.com

The Dreadnaught No. 1

Aviation was in its infancy when the Great War began in August 1914. Still, many historians point towards the ‘War to End All Wars’ as the single, most important event in the transformation of the aircraft from a novelty to a much sough out commodity. No one will look at aviation the same way after 1914. That’s because the antagonist on this cataclysmic period utilized the airplane as a pure tool of war, rather than for communication or reconnaissance duties as it was customary during the first years of the twentieth century.

By the outbreak of hostilities, all combatants had an air force of some sort. The Germans had the biggest force with about 250 aircraft on inventory. The French, although outnumbered 3 to 2 in airplanes by the Germans, had a much greater understanding of aviation tactics. A base that would serve them well as its country became the main battlefront throughout the four year struggle. Farther behind the Germans and French were the British. The Royal Flying Corps, created in 1912; two years after France had done the same, could only field 60 airframes by July 1914. For the first two years of the war, Great Britain depended heavily on French engines and airframes. However, with its much larger industrial base, the island nation quickly caught and surpassed, both the Germans and French in aircraft output. On the other side of Europe, Russia was in possession of more planes than the British and French combined. They also had a better command structure than the French. But the confusing variety of types made maintenance of their aircraft difficult. Meanwhile, the chief culprit of instigating the war, Austria-Hungary, had only a tiny force by comparison.

In the later part of the nineteen century, in the vast territory controlled by the dual monarchy of Austria-Hungry, many aviation pioneers started developing and testing indigenous flying platforms. In the Czechoslovakia part of the empire, some aircraft inventors like Jan Kaspar began gaining a reputation for excellence in designs and development. Many aspiring pioneers became fixated with Kaspar’s achievements. One of those people who felt in love with Kaspar’s blue prints was Jan Stastik. The life of this remarkable, yet, less know aviation trailblazer is one of the most mysterious ones. The holes and hiatuses in his curriculum vitae are one of history’s greatest travesties.

The bits and pieces of what is known are tantalizing. What is certainly accepted is that his public life started in the spring of 1911, when he applied as a student pilot in Kaspar’s flying school at Pardubitze. After this period, little information is available, but it is safe to assume that Stastik was fulltime alum at the Technical University in Prague. By 1912, he introduced to the public his first aircraft model mockup in front of a jam packed crowd at the Prague Car Exhibition. He called the biplane on display at the exhibition that day Bomber Project Number One or Dreadnought No.1. According to the October 30th, 1914 issue of Flight, a prestigious British aviation magazine, Stastik’s biplane bomber mockup has several similarities in design with that of Igor Ivanovich Sikorsky’s famous Ilya Moroumetz heavy bomber, prompting many to conclude this was a copycat. Little do they know that the entrepreneur has secretly commenced work on his dream plane almost two years before the great Russian inventor.

In 1913, the Stastik began full work on his concept. The hard part of transforming a design mockup to a full size aircraft was a daunting task. One that required time and money. Time he had but money was in short supply. It was at that time that he turned to fellow countrymen Horak and Vonka to sponsor the project. The banking duo, famous for establishing several financing regulations in Imperial Austria, gave Stastik the important amount of 130,000 koruny (crowns). With money in tow, a year later, Stastik was able to present its semi-completed aircraft to an impressed gathering at the Prague Car Exhibition. In May, with the initial funds dwindling, he managed to finish the installation of the wing fittings and power plant. The final pieces needed before the aircraft could take to the air. By early June, and with his beloved bomber completed, Stastik began to plan for the initial flight test phase. At the time of his completion, Dreadnought No.1 was the Danube Monarchy’s first operational-capable bomber.

The Dreadnought was a remarkable flying machine for its time. It was a three strutted biplane design, built from wood coverings and fiber. It was powered by two Gnome rotary engines capable of generating up to 100 horse power per unit. The power plants were placed at the front and rear sections of the fuselage. Each of them drove a two-bladed airscrew, rotating in opposite directions. Originally, the front faced Gnome engine got a cover hood. But it was soon removed due to problems associated with the cooling of the motor. The rear engine was never housed. The upper wing structure of the airplane was fitted with two sets of ailerons for additional control and had a span of 18 meters. The lower wing area was shorter by a couple of meters.

The tailplane was assembled in two frames meeting at the ruder post that carried one rudder and one elevator which was built in a T-configuration. Below the tailplane sat a tailskid. The main undercarriage was completed with another carriage that was mounted under the cockpit and used two metal wheels without rubber tires. These metal wheels had S-shaped spokes that served as additional suspension for the airplane. On the air frame, fitted in a compact cabin, sat the two man crew. Behind the pilot and co-pilot, was an intriguing apparatus for mounting the bomb load. The mechanism looked like a revolver drum. A remarkable close looking system was used by the United State’s B-1A Lancer bomber for the deployment of cruise missiles in the early 1980s. The handling of the system was performed by lever controls and a special indicator that noticed the number of bombs attached to the barrel.

Next to the bomb-barrel were the fuel tanks. The empty weight of this twin-engine plane was 750kg. It soared to 1,200kg when fully fitted. Stastik planned to enhance that capacity two-fold, to around 2,000kg. Top operational speed for the bomber was estimated at 150 to 160 kmh, with a maximum flight endurance time of nearly six hours. By the middle of the summer of 1914, the massive Dreadnought began its flight test phase at Pardubitze. A year and a half later, the biplane finally joined the K.U.K. Fligerarsenal, the technical test center for the fledgling Luftschifferabteilung, the forerunner of the K.U.K Luftfahrtruppen (Austro-Hungarian air force), at Fischamend, downriver from the imperial capital of Vienna. From there, the aircraft will never emerge.

During the initial test flight, the aircraft began to gather speed for the takeoff before the front carriage broke, propelling the plane to a somersault crash. As the pilot emerged from the crash site, he managed to see what remained of the bomber catching fire. The end came quickly as ground crews were ill prepared to extinguish the fire. After the debris was removed, Stastik was contacted to do a follow-up project. But this never made it out of the discussion table. In an unfortunate side bar, the end of Dreadnought No.1 also signaled the end of Stastik’s aviation career, as he and his remarkable plane, faded away in the fog of history.

No longer an Island: Britain and the Wright Brothers, 1902-109, Stanford Press University, 1984
The R.F.C. in the War, Flight Magazine No.6, 1914
Jane’s Fighting Aircraft of World War I, Random House, 2001
Bombers and X-planes, from 1901 to 1915, Carson Palmer, Rodger Press Books 1971

An article by Raul Colon: rcolonfrias@yahoo.com

HIII

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