Lords of the Sky: Fighter Pilots and Air Combat, From the Red Baron to the F-16 (48 page)

Bearings were essential as they were used for almost any military equipment with moving parts. Bombsights, engines, weapons, communication devices, and many others were all highly dependent on these tiny steel globes to reduce friction and support loads.
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The giant Swedish firm SKF was the largest worldwide manufacturer of ball bearings. From Goteborg, Sweden, and Schweinfurt, Germany, it supplied 80 percent of the total European demand. There were also dozens of foreign affiliates, including the Hess-Bright Manufacturing Company in Pennsylvania, which had become SKF Philadelphia in 1919. So when the Schweinfurt plant was bombed, the shortfall was largely covered from, of all places, the United States.

In a shameful footnote to the war, more than 600,000 ball bearings per year were shipped from American ports, via Central America, to Siemens, Diesel, and scores of other Axis companies. This was often to the detriment of U.S. companies that also needed the vital little globes. Curtiss-Wright, maker of the P-40, nearly shut down for want of bearings.
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It was also very likely that the Swedes warned the Germans about the raid in order to protect their factory in Schweinfurt. The National City Bank of New York (later Citibank and Citicorp) funneled money back to Sweden, and business continued as usual while American boys died in the air over Germany.

The deep penetration raids produced two inescapable lessons. First, the bomber
does not
always get through against an intelligently defended target and a 17 percent loss rate was not sustainable, even by the United States.
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The second lesson was the imperative need for a long-range escort fighter.

Enter the P-51 Mustang.

Arguably the finest fighter of the Second World War, the Mustang was the apex of piston-powered warplane development. Ironically, this iconic aircraft was created not by an initiative from the American government, but rather as a response to a Royal Air Force request. In fact, the entire design and initial production were a private venture between the British government and the North American Aircraft company.

Early in 1940 the British agreed to North American’s proposal and in May signed a contract for 320 aircraft. The company, headed by James “Dutch” Kindelberger and Edgar Schmued, was new and very small, and had previously fielded only one aircraft.
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This meant there were no paradigms to overcome and no history of conventional solutions to fall back on.
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This was very apparent when the first plane rolled out on September 9, 1940, barely 102 days after the contract was signed.

In addition to being a superb engineer, Kindelberger was also a very solid businessman. He realized that a plane that could be easily mass-produced would have a tremendous advantage once the United States began its wartime expansion. The P-51 was the first aircraft to incorporate an entirely mathematical design; all the contours were derivations of geometrical shapes and could therefore be expressed algebraically. This meant all the tooling and templates were extremely precise, yet easily duplicated for mass production.

Constructed in three main sections, the aircraft could be quickly disassembled if the need arose. Manufacturing of each section would be done separately, then the components shipped for final assembly. The engine mount only required four bolts, and the motor was easily removed by line mechanics with no special equipment. Unlike the Bf 109 or Spitfire, the Mustang’s landing gear retracted inward toward the fuselage centerline. This kept more weight along the main axis and permitted nearly a 12-foot wheelbase for safe ground operations. The brakes were hydraulic and controlled via the rudder pedals.

Other significant improvements included the beautiful bubble canopy and the practical cockpit layout. Most of the vital elements, like trim tabs, coolant switches, landing gear lever, and engine controls, were located so the pilot could reach them with his left hand, since his right hand would be on the stick.

Another innovation was the deliberate design of a
laminar flow
wing. We know from basic aerodynamics that airflow divides over a wing, and as it splits, the change in velocity alters surface pressure to produce lift. If the flow separates past a critical point, more drag is produced than lift and the wing stalls. This can be delayed somewhat by keeping the thin boundary layer of air closest to the wing intact as long as possible. A laminar flow wing is symmetric, so the air divides evenly and flows over an extremely smooth finished surface. This considerably reduces drag while increasing lift.

One advantage to less drag is that the aircraft can be much heavier, yet still retain high performance. For the Mustang, the greater weight meant more weapons and fuel without a corresponding loss of speed or maneuverability. So high performance was preserved while range and firepower increased, thus giving the Allies a fighter capable of deep escort into the Reich. The U.S. Army had become aware of North American’s aircraft and managed to keep the production line open by ordering a ground-attack version of the RAF fighter.
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The USAAF purchased 310 of the newly designated P-51A fighters in August 1942, and the first one flew by early February 1943.

Though the Mustang promised to be an excellent aircraft, the Allison engine was a problem. Even with a supercharger and a larger prop, the V-1710-81 motor could only deliver 1,125 horsepower at 18,000 feet. The superb Rolls-Royce Merlin was the obvious choice for later Mustangs, but production was an issue. The British company was already heavily committed supplying the Spitfire, Hurricane, and Lancaster bombers, so an American company was needed to manufacture the engine under license. Back in 1940, Henry Ford offered to do the deal, but only for American defense—under no circumstances for Britain. Instead, Ford built five-ton trucks for the German army and his sixty-acre plant in Poissy, France, began turning out aircraft engines for the Luftwaffe.
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So Packard was selected to build the 1,500-horsepower Merlin V-1650. Capable of 400 knots at 30,000 feet, the new engine had a novel two-stage supercharger that would automatically kick in around 19,000 feet. This permitted a climb rate exceeding 3,000 feet per minute, with unmatched high-altitude maneuverability. Combined with the slick laminar flow design, the Allies had a fighter aircraft that could escort bombers all the way to Austria if needed.
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Previous hard-learned lessons regarding weapon systems were also heeded in the Mustang design. The RAF version carried four .50-caliber and four .303-caliber Brownings, while the Mk IA had four Hispano 20 mm cannons. American P-51A variants mounted four .50-caliber machine guns and could carry a pair of 500-pound general purpose bombs. Both versions were equipped with new gyroscopic gunsights that compensated for bullet drop and made accurate deflection aiming possible.
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Correctly regarded as the culmination of Mustang development, the Merlin-powered P-51D model began appearing in March 1944. More than eight thousand of these magnificent machines were built, and they had a profound effect on the outcome of the war against the Third Reich. Bombers could now hit factories, laboratories, and key targets deep inside Germany. Steel production and electrical generating capacity fell by 30 and 20 percent, respectively. Hundreds of French locomotives were destroyed along with railyards and repair facilities. Bridges, depots, and rolling stock were attacked to the point where the entire French transportation system was operating at only 60 percent capacity. This made logistical support to the Atlantic Wall and any type of rapid German military response problematic. The Reich’s already fragile economy steadily disintegrated.

It must’ve seemed like Germany of 1918 all over again for those unlucky enough to have experienced it. Rice was pressed into unappealing little cakes and flavored with animal fat. Flour was made from nuts and turned into something resembling bread while ersatz, vaguely resembling coffee, was once again brewed from roasted oats.

Oil production essentially halted, even from the dozen synthetic-oil plants that the Germans had constructed. Synthetic-oil manufacturing operations were particularly vulnerable due to their complex machinery and sheer size relative to conventional refineries. Fuel production eventually fell from 180,000 tons per month to less than 5,000 tons, with enormous tactical implications for the Luftwaffe. Combat units were throttled and training curtailed to the point where new pilots received just 120 hours of flight time before going into combat, barely half of the 1942 program.
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And to alleviate the pilot shortfall, bomber pilots were transitioned into fighters. Both solutions produced disastrous results.

By 1944 Luftwaffe losses were averaging 10 percent per mission, and dozens of Allied aces were created overnight. After its successes during the Battle of Britain and against the Soviet Union, the Luftwaffe was definitely seeing the other side of the coin. Only in this case there would be no geographical salvation from the English Channel or the Russian steppes.

Albert Speer, the Reich’s minister of armaments, estimated that 98 percent of oil production had been destroyed by July 1944, which would leave Germany with less than a 400,000-ton reserve—not enough for six months. Combat aircraft were withdrawn from the Eastern Front to defend the Reich, and more than a thousand German fighter pilots were lost during the first four months of the year. Ironically, the man who created the Luftwaffe was also largely responsible for its destruction. Blame for the Allied bombings fell on Goering and his inability to prevent them; in turn, he blamed the fighter pilots. He fired Adolf Galland, Hannes Trautloft, and a score of other top officers. In an eerily Soviet manner, he also instituted a system of political officers who would report anyone failing to display a suitable commitment to National Socialism.

Perhaps the final nail in the Luftwaffe’s coffin came from the blundering employment of a weapon that might have changed the air war. The Me 262 Schwalbe had actually been developed following Heinkel’s successful flight of the He 178 in August 1939—six days before Germany invaded Poland.
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Jet engine technology wasn’t new, but neither was it well understood, and the technical difficulties were severe. The vexing issue of heat transference within the engine was exacerbated by Germany’s shortage of metals for the alloys necessary to survive extreme temperatures. As it was, a normal engine would operate about twelve hours before needing an overhaul. The quick solution was to fold the turbine blade, creating something like a metallic taco shell, which facilitated air cooling. This prevented rapid meltdowns, helping avoid the problem of an engine “throwing” a blade, which usually had catastrophic effects.

Messerschmitt’s fighter flew its initial test flight in April of 1941, nearly two years before the British Gloster Meteor. Fortunately for the Allies, both Hitler and Goering were not supportive of the new program. In 1941 both men were convinced that victory was imminent and that Germany’s resources would be better utilized manufacturing piston engine fighters. By the middle of 1943, Hitler mandated that the jet be developed as a
Schnellbomber
(fast bomber) that could be used to strike England with impunity. Professional fighter pilots like Adolf Galland wanted to use the jet against Allied bombers that were destroying Germany. With a speed at least 150 mph faster than the P-51’s and four 30 mm Mk 108 cannons, it was an ideal bomber killer.

Or it would be if it was used correctly. The impressive speed advantage had a very real tactical downside: it was simply too fast for accurate aiming. Closing velocities for a head-on attack were over 1,000 feet per second, and the guns weren’t accurate beyond 600 yards. The jet usually had to break off at 200 yards, about a second away, to avoid either a collision or debris. So under ideal conditions (which were rare), a pilot had a 400-yard window, about two seconds, to aim and fire. The big 30 mm cannons, though devastating, had a low rate of fire at only three hundred rounds a minute. So a two-second burst from all four guns delivered forty rounds, not much to bring down a Flying Fortress or a Liberator. Augmenting the guns were 55 mm Orkan rockets in underwing pods, and as their trajectory was similar to that of the cannons the REVI 16B gunsight could be used for aiming. Also, the rockets had a tactical range of about a half mile, far beyond the bomber’s machine guns, and one Orkan hit was enough to bring down a Fortress.

Finally overcoming political opposition and most of the technical issues, the Me 262 went into action on July 26, 1944. Due to shortages, the test unit became an operational command under Maj. Walter Nowotny until his death in November. The influence of the Me 262 was profound and would be felt in future air wars, but for Germany it was too little and much too late.

Nowhere was this better illustrated than on D-Day, June 6, 1944. Operation Overlord was the Allied invasion of a 50-mile stretch of beach along the Normandy coast. The Germans were well aware that an invasion would occur; however, the location was hotly disputed. Conventional thinking anticipated an assault at the Pas de Calais, the narrowest point between England and France. It is here that a mere 21 miles of the Dover Strait separates continental Europe from the Kentish shoreline. It was the logical point to cross in a hurry due to an air or sea threat or if the attacker lacked sufficient transport. The Wehrmacht had faced all these issues in 1940, but the Allies had no such concerns in 1944. It was also too obvious. Plus there simply weren’t enough ports along that section of the English coast to support an invasion fleet.