Characters of "Eagles" - Children, Church and -- Communications

Nazi ideology was clear on a woman's place in society: with children, in the church and in the kitchen (in German: Kinder, Kirche and Kueche)

And then the war came and the armed services faced unexpected manpower shortfalls. While Nazi ideology stood in the way of female conscription, women's auxiliary forces were created that accepted volunteers. 

The female protagonist in the German plotline of "Where Eagles Never Flew" is just such a volunteer.

"Never in the history of the world," the Luftwaffe recruiter told the teenage girls from the National Socialist Labor Front, "has an air force been asked to perform a comparable task. The Luftwaffe burns to show the Fuehrer what it can do. But," the teacher-turned-airforce-major stopped dramatically, "but the Luftwaffe needs help. It needs your help."

The astonished looks of the two Labor Girls were highly satisfying to the lecturer. "You will be able to tell your children and grandchildren that you -- no less than your brothers and boyfriends in our bomber crews -- helped to subdue the stubborn British lion. Your Camp Leader has selected you as the girls most suitable for this awesome task. Now, I put the question to you: are you willing to help your Fatherland and your Fuehrer by becoming Luftwaffehelferinnen?"

The recruiter had not yet met teenage girls who could resist his harangue. 

From the point of view of the Nazi authorities, Klaudia's suitability for the Luftwaffe women's auxiliary was based primarily on her docility, her apparently sincere desire to be a good National Socialist -- and her name. Her father is a second cousin once removed to the legendary WWI ace Baron Manfred von Richthofen and she carries his famous name. In fact, however, Klaudia doesn't know much about either the Luftwaffe or National Socialism. She has grown up on a large estate in the east, the daughter of the estate owner. She is the only surviving child of grief-stricken parents, and has had a lonely childhood because her parents were to deeply wounded by the loss of her brother to give her the love she needs. The village school is also small and she is set apart by her status as the daughter of the landowner. It is not until she reports for her national labor service that she finds herself on an equal-footing among lots of girls her own age. (Young people in Nazi Germany had to serve one year in the Reichsarbeitsdienst or RAD, a highly militarized organization which also sought to indoctrinate youth in National Socialism.)

Suddenly, Klaudia is not only surrounded by girls her own age, she is surrounded by National Socialist institutions, slogans, songs, uniforms and ideology. The change in society, which had largely passed her rural village by, can no longer be ignored. Klaudia is only too willing to embrace the "new Germany". It offers her acceptance and integration and a bright future. So when the Luftwaffe comes to her RAD unit recruiting women to train in communication trades, Klaudia is eager to sign up.

Nor is she disappointed. Work as a Luftwaffehelferinnen soon enables her to go to France. She and her friend Rosa land with the creme-de-la-creme at No. 1 Stuka Group. She finds herself living in a chateau and courted by the most glamorous of the all pilots -- the CO himself, Major Pashinger. Klaudia's sheltered childhood has not prepared for any of this. In very little time, she has been seduced -- only to discover that Pashinger is a married man and his intentions were dishonorable from the start. 

Fortunately for Klaudia, her friend Rosa is seeking a transfer to another unit to follow her young man, an aircraft mechanic. Klaudia joins her, and together they arrive at JG 23. The atmosphere here is very different -- less glamorous and less political. These aren't Goering's or Hitler's favorites. Some of the pilots are outright contemptuous of the Nazis. Klaudia is much happier, and knows she would find it hard to resist the charm of Christian Baron von Feldburg -- if only he would show any interest in her. 

But Feldburg has eyes only for French girls, and it is his wingman, Ernst Geuke, who has fallen for Klaudia. Ernst isn't exactly dashing, however, and he certainly doesn't come from the kind of background her parents would approve of. Klaudia subtly lets Ernst know she's not interested in his attentions. And then he gets shot down.

"This is the best book on the life of us fighter pilots in the Battle of Britain that I have ever seen.... I couldn't put it down."-- RAF Battle of Britain ace, Wing Commander Bob Doe.

Winner of a Hemingway Award for 20th Century Wartime Fiction, a Maincrest Media Award for Military Fiction and Silver in the Global Book Awards.

Find out more at: https://crossseaspress.com/where-eagles-never-flew

 

 

 

 

Also by Helena P. Schrader

Riding the icy, moonlit sky,

they took the war to Hitler. 

Their chances of survival were less than fifty percent. 

Their average age was 21.

This is the story of just one bomber pilot, his crew and the woman he loved. 

It is intended as a tribute to them all.  

Buy now on amazon

or Barnes and Noble. 

 

Disfiguring injuries, class prejudice and PTSD are the focus of three heart-wrenching tales set in WWII by award-winning novelist Helena P. Schrader. Find out more at: https://crossseaspress.com/grounded-eagles

 

 

 

 

For more information about all my books visit: https://www.helenapschrader.com

 

 

Characters of "Eagles" - Unlikely Luftwaffe Eagle

   Continuing my series on the most important characters in "Where Eagles Never Flew," today I introduce the most important of the German characters. One of the unique features of "Where Eagles Never Flew" is that the novel follows the fate not only of an RAF fighter squadron but also a Luftwaffe fighter wing. The three main German characters are members of this fiction JG 23. Today I introduce Leutnant Ernst Geuke

"Bartels was tall, blond, tanned and fit -- a German officer straight out of a UFA-film. He considered Geuke with a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. Geuke could hear him thinking, "Have we really sunk so low that we have to take officers like this?'"

  

Ernst doesn't look the part of a fighter pilot, at least not Goebbels idea of one. He isn't blond, or tall, or particularly good looking. In fact, he is what one doctor called "a good feeder" -- meaning that not either the Hitler Youth nor the Luftwaffe was able to make him look sleek. He retains a roundness regardless.

It doesn't help that he also comes from a humble background. His father is a plumber in the provincial town of Cottbus, and he has four siblings. He grew up poor surrounded by similar hard-working people who lost loved one and suffered severe deprivation during the First World War, and then lost all their savings in the inflation of 1923. Embittered by the hardship and the apparent indifference of the government to their plight, they enthusiastically embrace the new movement promising to make Germany great again.

 Ernst is thus a Nazi by default more than anything. With his parents, his teachers, his pastors and his classmates all mesmerized by Hitler and his lies, Ernst goes along congenially. His only real passion is flying, and being far too poor to take private flying lessons, his only change of flying is to be accepted into the Luftwaffe. 

Once in, Ernst works hard not fail and earns not only his wings but a commission as well. He's proud of that, but it doesn't give him the money for tailored uniforms (as the aristocratic officers have) and it doesn't change his provincial accent or make him slimmer either. Ernst is an outsider and acutely aware of it when he first reports for duty at JG 23, stationed at a hastily constructed grass airfield near Cherbourg in Normandy.

Acutely aware of his inexperience and imagining inadequacies, Ernst is self-effacing and anxious to "fit in." When things go wrong, he's quick to blame himself. He's not at all prepared to withstand the charm of Christian Baron von Feldburg, who rapidly takes Ernst under his wing -- as his "wingman." He's even less prepared to deal with his feelings for the pretty but shy Luftwaffehilferin Klaudia von Richthofen.

"This is the best book on the life of us fighter pilots in the Battle of Britain that I have ever seen.... I couldn't put it down."-- RAF Battle of Britain ace, Wing Commander Bob Doe.

Winner of a Hemingway Award for 20th Century Wartime Fiction, a Maincrest Media Award for Military Fiction and Silver in the Global Book Awards.

Find out more at: https://crossseaspress.com/where-eagles-never-flew

 

 

 

 

Also by Helena P. Schrader

Riding the icy, moonlit sky,

they took the war to Hitler. 

Their chances of survival were less than fifty percent. 

Their average age was 21.

This is the story of just one bomber pilot, his crew and the woman he loved. 

It is intended as a tribute to them all.  

Buy now on amazon

or Barnes and Noble. 

 

Disfiguring injuries, class prejudice and PTSD are the focus of three heart-wrenching tales set in WWII by award-winning novelist Helena P. Schrader. Find out more at: https://crossseaspress.com/grounded-eagles

 

 

 

 

For more information about all my books visit: https://www.helenapschrader.com

 

 

The Fate of Western Civilization in the Balance

 The fate of Britain -- and indeed the entire civilized world -- hung in the balance in the critical three weeks between the launch of the German air offensive on August 12/13 and the shift in German strategy to London on September 7. Although many now dismiss the actions of the RAF and view British victory as "inevitable," this judgement based on the wisdom of hindsight denigrates the sacrifices and the demeans the accomplishments of those who fought the Battle of Britain.

At a conference of Luftwaffe commanders on August 19, the destruction of the RAF’s defensive capacity was recognized as the priority, short-term objective. To achieve this goal, when operations resumed in force on August 24, the Luftwaffe employed a variety of tactics which it varied rapidly and unpredictably to keep the RAF guessing and try to catch it off guard.

Large and small bombing raids were interspersed with fighter sweeps. Diving bombing, high-altitude and low-altitude bombing were used separately or in combined attacks. Raids were launched in the early hours of the morning, mid-day and in the evening. Sometimes the Luftwaffe struck at widely separated times and on other occasions struck at short intervals in an attempt to saturate defenses. Raids were made on widely separated targets to try to spread the RAF thin. Or, alternatively, raids were made on the same target in quick succession.

On the one hand, the Luftwaffe tried to catch fighters on the ground refueling and, on the other, to force the RAF into the air to fight with the Me109s. To achieve the latter, the Luftwaffe now and again deployed Me110s in formations to look like bombers protected by hundreds of their smaller comrades. The Luftwaffe also tried cumbersome massive raids, in one case with over 400 fighter escorts, and it tried small raids by fighter-bombers without escorts. It experimented with large formations that then split into two, three or even four smaller raids attacking widely separated targets.

Although in retrospect it is evident that many of these raids were far from effective, others were devastating. In general, the frequency and ferocity of these attacks and the much more focused targeting of RAF Fighter Command made them extremely dangerous to Britain’s air defences. Altogether 32 attacks against airfields were made in just 14 days.

On the very first day of the renewed offensive, the satellite field of RAF Manston was hit twice, taking out its communications. Bomb craters and unexploded bombs littered field and the accommodations became unusable. Park made the decision, which pilots operating from Manston felt was belated, to write the field off except for emergencies. In short, the Luftwaffe scored a victory on its very first day of the renewed offensive.

But Manston was not a Sector Airfield with an all-important Sector Operations Room. Attacks on the Sector Stations were far more dangerous attacks, and there were 22 of these between August 24 and September 6. Of these, ten raids were directed at Biggin Hill. The second of these, a low-level attack by fighter-bombers, left the Sergeants’ and the WAAF quarters destroyed along with the NAAFI and cook-house, the stores, workshops and one of the hangers. A direct hit on an air-raid shelter killed 39 airmen and women and other bombs disabled the telephone lines and disrupted the gas, water and electricity supply. Although the Sector Operations Room was unscathed, without electricity and telecommunications the controllers could not direct their squadrons. Hornchurch had to temporarily take control of Biggin Hill’s squadrons. And that was only the beginning.

On the following day, Biggin Hill was again hit twice, first by a high-level raid that did little damage, and then, at six in the evening, by another low-level raid. This raid promptly destroyed two of the three remaining hangars and, more importantly, knocked out the Operations Room. Kenley had to assume control of the Biggin Hill squadrons. Yet the next morning (September 1,) Biggin Hill was again deemed fully operational — until it was bombed yet again that evening. This time teams worked through the night to set up an emergency control room in a shop in the near-by village, and one of Biggin Hill’s squadrons was moved to the satellite airfield of Croydon. The Station Commander also took the radical decision to blow-up his remaining hangar in an effort to discourage further raids. In short, the Luftwaffe had achieved a partial victory.

Meanwhile, Hornchurch had been hit four times, Debden three times, North Weald twice, and Kenley once. In addition, the Luftwaffe had devoted some raids to attacks on aircraft factories, twice targeting Hawker Hurricane production, albeit unsuccessfully. It had also undertaken a series of concentrated attacks on Portsmouth. British civilian casualties in this period rose to their highest of the war so far, causing Prime Minister Churchill increasing concern.

With the wisdom of hindsight, historians have argued that none of this was really so terrible. They point out that the Luftwaffe continued to waste much of its effort on airfields not associated with Fighter Command (14 raids altogether) and on satellite airfields (6 raids). There has also been much written about how bomb craters and unexploded bombs don’t really render an airfield inoperable (or not for long). Likewise, damage to hangars, workshops, accommodations and other facilities have also been disparaged as “insignificant” to fighting capacity. I beg to differ.

AVM Park writing on September 12, 1940 noted that:

There was a critical period between 28 August and 5 September when the damage to Sector Stations and our ground organization was having a serious effect on the fighting efficiency of the fighter squadrons, who could not be given the same good technical and administrative service as previous. [Source: Stephen Bungay, The Most Dangerous Enemy: A History of the Battle of Britain, London: Aurum Press, 2000. 290]

Park was employing the then-common “British understatement.” First-hand accounts of the conditions under which airmen were living and working and pilots fighting leave little doubt that the impact on “efficiency” and morale was becoming severe. Squadrons were being asked to fly three to four times a day. Yet many pilots were no longer getting regular, hot meals or able to sleep in proper accommodations. Many were being forced to live off station, commuting substantial distances that thereby reduced the time available for sleep. A few more weeks of this treatment might have resulted in a different outcome. Men were reaching the breaking point as the increasing casualties underline.

Although the Luftwaffe was still losing more aircraft than the RAF, the margin had narrowed dramatically. In this two week period, 380 Luftwaffe machines were lost for 286 RAF fighters. The RAF was losing more than 140 fighters per week. At that rate, even Beaverbrook was hard pressed to keep pace, and one effective strike on a Hurricane or Spitfire factory would have wiped out the ability of the British aircraft industry to replace losses in a timely fashion.

More critical, of course, were the pilot losses that simply could not be replaced in a short space of time. By the end of August 1940, RAF Training Command was “producing” pilots with nominal training on operational fighter aircraft at a rate of 280 per month. Casualties in August, however, had been 348 pilots. The training infrastructure was not keeping up with demand.

That was not a situation that could be reversed by a change in policy or priorities. It took roughly one year to train a young man to fly monoplane fighter aircraft; there were no short-cuts or means of speeding up “production.” Volunteers from Coastal Command and the Fleet Air Arm had already been exhausted. Furthermore, turning that pilot into an effective fighter pilot took more than time — it took experience. Inexperienced pilots had a six-times higher chance of being killed than an experienced pilot. Many replacement pilots did not survive their first sortie; many more did not survive their first week.

The same was true of inexperienced squadrons. In squadrons with experienced leaders, fledgling pilots got advice, guidance and support from their more-savvy comrades. When entire squadrons without recent front-line experience were rotated into 11 Group, there were no leaders who could warn, coach and protect their charges and slaughters occurred in which six or seven aircraft were shot down in a single engagement often with the loss of several pilots. Some squadrons all but ceased to exist within a week.

But the Germans didn’t know any of this.

The Germans relied on aerial reconnaissance and the combat reports of their own pilots. As we have seen, Luftwaffe fighter pilots overestimated their victories by huge margins, while the Luftwaffe staff severely underestimated the capacity of the British industry to produce replacement aircraft. At the end of the first week of September, the Luftwaffe was again convinced that the British could have no more than 200 Spitfires and Hurricanes left.

Meanwhile, the quality of high-altitude photo reconnaissance was still quite low. It was not always possible to tell what kind of aircraft were on an airfield, let alone the extent of damage. Furthermore, the damage that threatened Fighter Command most severely — electricity and telecommunications cuts to the Operations Rooms and radar stations — were virtually impossible to detect from the recce photos. The destruction of buildings on the other hand was easily recorded and looked very impressive, even if the immediate impact was far less damaging to the RAF’s ability to keep fighting. It is hardly surprising, therefore, that the Luftwaffe continued to believe that they were winning the air war against Britain.

What was starting to worry the Luftwaffe leadership, however, were their own losses. The Luftwaffe was starting to notice that it could not replace aircraft as fast as it as losing them. Some squadrons had only 50% of official aircraft strength. Serviceability rates were also down, as low as 75% in fighter squadrons. As with the British, however, the bigger problem was pilots.

While the number of fighter pilots killed on both sides was roughly equal, RAF pilots who were wounded or simply had to bail out of damaged aircraft usually landed in Britain and found themselves either in hospital or back with their units in a short space of time. The wounded usually made their way back into a cockpit within a period of weeks or months. Even in the case of severe burns, many pilots returned to flying duties after dozens of operations and plastic surgery. For the Luftwaffe, the situation was different. Because the fighting was taking place in British airspace, pilots unable to nurse a damaged aircraft across the Channel put it down in England — and became prisoners of war. Likewise, pilots who had to bail out for one reason or another became prisoners. Thus, the RAF’s pilot losses amounted to the number of pilots killed, while the Luftwaffe’s pilot losses consisted of those killed and captured.

Meanwhile, the Luftwaffe was feeling the exhaustion too. Because the Me 110 had proved ineffective, the Me109s were being asked to fly three to four sorties a day on average and as much as six or seven on some occasions. These were not short interceptions as in the case of the RAF. A Luftwaffe fighter sortie entailed a long flight across the lethal Channel — and back. Furthermore, the Luftwaffe had no system for rotating squadrons out of the front line as the RAF did. This meant that the Luftwaffe squadrons had all been engaged continuously since the start of the Battle of Britain, and often before that in the Battle of France.

In addition, in the fighter units the culture of rewarding kills resulted in the “experts” (the aces) winning medals and promotions — and receiving protection in the from of wingmen and “staff flights,” while everyone else took the casualties. This fact was increasingly resented.

Yet even more shattering to morale in fighter units was the tendency of the Luftwaffe leadership, including Goering himself, to blame the fighters for the continued attrition among the bombers. The fighter pilots knew they were giving their best, but it wasn’t enough either to destroy those “last 200 Spitfires” or to get all the bombers safely home.

If morale was starting to crumble in the ranks of the Luftwaffe’s fighter pilots, the bomber crews faced the same slow but steady erosion of elan that British and American bomber crews would learn about in the years to come. A psychiatrist specialized in battle fatigue noted after studying soldiers in both world wars that courage was like having money in a bank account: the reserves of even the bravest men could be drawn down to nothing, if demands were made upon it too often and too soon.  This was happening to the Luftwaffe in 1940.

The final straw for Luftwaffe morale, however, was the absence of a powerful incentive. The men and women of RAF Fighter Command, whether flying or supporting those who did, understood that they were fighting (in the words of Winston Churchill) “a monstrous tyranny” and even more importantly (again in Churchill’s words) for “the survival of Christian civilization,” and “our own British life.” But the men in the Luftwaffe knew that no one had particularly wanted to fight Great Britain in the first place! Those that had read Mein Kampf even knew that Hitler admired the British and the British Empire. Why on earth were they being asked to die?

Despite the successes the Luftwaffe believed they had achieved, the Luftwaffe leadership recognized that their crews were tired and did not want more of the same. Goering wanted something new, some trick, some clever new tactic that would at last “crack” the nut he firmly believed was ripe. 

Goering also needed to restore his standing in Hitler’s eyes. He had promised to defeat the RAF in a couple of weeks and after two months the British were still not begging for peace talks. He had  joked that if the RAF ever bombed Berlin, people could call him “Meyer.” On August 25, the RAF  retaliated for bombs dropped (accidentally) on London with a more-or-less harmless raid on Berlin. Goering was about to make the worst mistake of the Battle.

Where Eagles Never Flew opens with the Battle of France and goes on to show the Battle of Britain, in all its phases, from both sides of the Channel. It does so by following the fate of German characters as well as British ones. The British characters are members of the fictional No. 606 (Hurricane) Squadron based at Tangmere. The German characters are the pilots and women auxiliaries of a Me109 Gruppe based in Northern France.  Where Eagles Never Flew is the winner of the Hemingway Award for 20th Century Wartime Fiction, a Maincrest Media Award for Historical Fiction, and more. Find out more about Where Eagles Never Flew at:  https://crossseaspress.com/where-eagles-never-flew or watch a video teaser at: Eagles Video Teaser

 

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The RAF in the Battle of France 1939-1940

 While the Battle of Britain represented the first time that the RAF and the Luftwaffe faced one another one-to-one, it was not the first encounter between the adversaries. RAF units had been involved in the Battle of France. While these had no chance of altering the outcome of that campaign, the British units and pilots engaged in the war on the Continent learned valuable lessons that contributed to the successful outcome of the Battle of Britain.

At the outbreak of WWII, the British almost immediately sent a “Expeditionary Force” to France. This included the Advanced Air Striking Force which consisted of ten squadrons of light bombers and four (later six) fighter squadrons. The bombers made up No 1 Group RAF Bomber Command, and this group was equipped entirely with Fairey Battles. Initially, the fighter squadrons deployed to France were Nos 1, 73, 85 and 87 squadrons, all Hurricane squadrons. However, in response to a French request for more fighter support, the RAF sent Nos 607 and 617 squadrons across to France on November 15. These auxiliary squadrons were at the time still equipped with bi-plane Gladiators, although they received their Hurricanes just as the German offensive opened in May 1940.

British strategy throughout this period called for both the bombers and fighters to serve in support of ground forces. Despite the appellation “Advanced Striking Force,” the RAF in France was a tactical air force intended to support the army. Thus, during the period of the so-called “Phony War,” the bombers were deployed primarily for reconnaissance and dropping leaflets in Germany, while the fighters were tasked with destroying German reconnaissance and weather aircraft that regularly crossed into French airspace.

For much of this period, there was little to do. The RAF fighters practiced intercepting their own bombers and they did routine patrols in the tradition of WWI — only rarely seeing, much less intercepting, the enemy. Now and again, however, there were brief, violent encounters with the Luftwaffe. Surprisingly, at this period the Luftwaffe was still sending its reconnaissance bombers over without noticeable escort. In consequence the illusion of doing very well was widespread. For example, on a single day, November 23, Nos 1 and 73 squadrons shot down six enemy bombers, five Dorniers 17 and one Heinkel 111. These were not inflated claims. The wrecks landed on French territory and the pilots went to see them and cut off a cross or swastika from the fuselage for the squadron mess. In one instance the pilot of a downed aircraft was royally entertained in the No 1 squadron’s mess.

Yet despite the apparent calm and the sense of readiness, the RAF learnt several valuable lessons in this pregnant calm before the storm. The commander of No 1 Squadron, “Bull” Halahan, convinced the RAF establishment of the advantage of painting the underside of aircraft sky blue, an innovation inspired by German standard operating procedures. Halahan was also the catalyst for an even more important change. When one pilot of No 1 squadron had a very narrow escape from being shot to death by the forward guns of a Dornier after overshooting following his own attack, Halahan decided that the Hurricanes needed armor plating behind the pilot’s seat. The request for such protection was denied by the Air Ministry on the grounds that the extra weight would alter the center of gravity and impair the aerodynamics of the aircraft. Halahan was not convinced. He took armor plating from a wrecked Battle, fitted it behind the seat of one of his squadron’s Hurricanes and sent one of his pilots back to London to perform aerobatics in the modified Hurricane before the Royal Aircraft Establishment. The performance must have been impressive because the Air Ministry caved in and ordered armor plating not only for No 1 Squadron but also made it standard equipment in all Hurricanes henceforth.

It was not a moment too soon. A notable increase in activity on the part of the Luftwaffe was recorded in March,1940. This led to the RAF’s first encounters with Me109s and Me110s. In the first exchange on 2 March 1940 both the RAF pilot (“Cobber” Kain of 73 Squadron) and Luftwaffe pilot (Werner Moelders) had to abandon their aircraft due to combat damage. On March 29, an engagement between a section of No 1 Squadron and three Me110s resulted in all three Me110s destroyed. The following assessment was entered in the squadron log: “As a result of this combat it may be stated that the Me110, although very fast and manoeuverable for a twin-engined aircraft, can easily be out manoeuvered by a Hurricane.” [Patrick Bishop, Fighter Boys: Saving Britain 1940, Harper Collins, 2003, 138.] The Germans, however, were provocatively sending larger and larger formations of bombers into French airspace — and they were now escorted by as many as forty Me109s.

Then on May 10, the German offensive in the West opened with a series of attacks on Allied airfields and other strategic, infrastructure targets. The Luftwaffe Order of Battle included 1,062 bombers, 356 ground attack aircraft (e.g. Stukas) and just short of 1,200 fighters of which roughly 1,000 were Me109 and 200 were Me110s. Facing them were the French Armee de la Air composed of 140 bombers, 518 single-engined fighters and 67 twin-engined fighters supported by 40 RAF Hurricanes and 20 RAF Gladiators. But the French figures are deceptive. In fact, only 36 French fighters were aircraft with an airspeed anywhere near that of their opponents; the rest were hopelessly obsolete. 

 

 

One of France's 36 Dewoitine Fighters with a max. speed of 336 mph

Even more disastrous was the absence of an early warning system. The French had been shown radar and the British fighter control system, but they disdained to follow the British example. In consequence, from the first day of the offensive to the surrender of France, there was no effective means of directing operations or guiding interceptions. There was also no cooperation or meaningful communication between the British and French air forces. All communications on the ground, whether between the British and the French, and within the British Advanced Striking Force were conducted over the civilian telephone lines. These were subject to German interdiction and not secure.  Communication in the air was even worse, as the aircraft operating in France had very primitive radio telephone equipment with an effective range of just three miles from the airfield.

The Luftwaffe opened the campaign in the West with a text-book attempt to neutralize the air defenses of the enemy and secure air superiority over the battlefield. This meant that on the first day of the offensive, all the airfields from which RAF squadrons were operating were attacked. The RAF response was prompt and fierce. The pilots of No 1, 73, 85 and 87 squadron were in the air by 5 am and the day’s fighting did not finish until nine pm. Because the Germans had sent their bombers without fighter escorts, the RAF was able deliver a sharp rebuke. In 208 sorties, the RAF struck down 33 German aircraft for the loss of just seven Hurricanes destroyed, and eight damaged. More importantly, only one RAF pilot was killed, and three wounded.  

But the Luftwaffe had the reserves to continue at the same pace; the RAF did not. In the following ten days, RAF pilots were asked to fly as many as five sorties a day, each lasting  roughly an hour and a half. They did so while being forced to retreat almost daily to new, usually improvised, airfields, which nevertheless continued to be bombed and strafed regularly. Increasingly, RAF personnel were billeted with civilians, then sleeping in tents, later in abandoned barns and finally under the wings of their aircraft. Meals were erratic and sleep almost non-existent. If they weren’t flying, they were being bombed, strafed or moving to a new airfield.

All the while, the French government cried for more RAF squadrons. Their appeal fell on the sympathetic ears of the newly appointed British PM, Winston Churchill. Initially, squadrons stationed in southeast England were tasked to fly over and “help out.” Without early warning systems or functional command-and-control, however, these were doomed to arriving (often in the wrong place) to face utter chaos without a clue about what to do. Many ended up doing nothing or getting slaughtered without a single victory to show for it. Individual squadron replacements faced the same fate. Sending green pilots up to fight was more likely to result in the loss of a British than a German aircraft. Meanwhile, the RAF Fairey Battles were being systematically shot down as they attempted — usually without fighter escort — to stop the German panzer divisions pouring into France by destroying bridges or bombing them at choke points. 

 One of the RAF's Fairey Battles

 On May 12, 501 Squadron was sent to France. On May 15, despite acknowledging that the Battle of France was lost, the French PM nevertheless requested of Churchill that ten additional fighter squadrons be sent across the channel. Although this request was denied, on the following day the Air Ministry decided that the fatigue both physical and mental sustained by the squadrons in France was not sustainable, and took the decision to send eight flights of fresh pilots over to relieve the exhausted veterans. The problem with that idea was that pilots without combat experience or understanding of the situation were cold meat for the Messerschitts. Meanwhile, on May 17 the RAF squadrons were retreating yet again, destroying any unserviceable aircraft on the ground as they pulled out. In some cases, the German bombers arrived while the last serviceable Hurricane was still struggling to get into the air.

The Air Ministry again tried sending UK-based squadrons across the channel to assist in the fighting. The idea was that three squadrons would fly over in the morning, do whatever fighting had to be done, and then get replaced by three other squadrons in the afternoon. All six squadrons theoretically remained stationed in the UK, but pilots were making forced landings and bailing out over France and then had to find their own way back. No 242 and 17 were two of the squadrons assigned this unenviable task. Furthermore, the issue of inexperience was the same with these squadrons, and the lack of communications prevented their coordinated and targeted deployment.

Inevitably, RAF losses mounted. While on May 10, only eight Hurricanes were destroyed and one pilot killed, on the 14^th it was already 27 Hurricanes and 17 pilots killed. Two days later No 85 Squadron had six Hurricanes shot down in a single day, from which only one pilot walked away, the remaining five being killed or severely injured.

The following day, May 17, the Chief of Air Staff finally saw the light: British fighters were being destroyed at an alarming rate without the slightest hope of altering the military situation. The Germans were winning the war on the ground regardless of how good a fight the RAF put up in the air. The sacrifice of more British fighters and pilots could only weaken Britain’s capacity to defend itself when the time came. He announced in the war cabinet that it would be “criminal” to send more RAF squadrons to France. Two days later, Churchill also conceded defeat and ordered that no more RAF fighter squadrons were to be sent to France.

Slowly a withdrawal of the forces already there began. In many cases, individual pilots had to be left behind because they were in French hospitals. Around them, France was in a state of collapse with refugees clogging the roads, villages burning, panic and defeatism widespread. Many RAF pilots reported French fliers refusing to take to the air and French officers deserting their posts to rescue their families and possessions from the approaching Germans. First-hand accounts are also filled with horror stories of German bombing and strafing of civilians. The fact that German fighter aircraft also engaged in these atrocities did much to harden British attitudes toward the Luftwaffe at this crucial time.

Altogether, the RAF brought down 299 Luftwaffe aircraft in the course of this battle for the price of 208 Hurricanes lost in aerial combat. Not a bad score, although the claims were much higher, namely 599. Furthermore, another 176 Hurricanes were destroyed on the ground, often by the RAF ground crews to prevent them from falling into German hands. As a result, only 66 of the 450  fighters sent to France flew back to England. 

More difficult to replace were the 56 pilots killed, 36 severely wounded and 18 taken prisoner. Many of these men were some of the best the RAF then had. Yet one casualty of the Battle of France has been all too often overlooked: RAF “Fighter Area Attacks”. These infamously inflexible tactics devised in the interwar years and so assiduously practiced right until the onslaught became an early casualty of the clash with reality. It was one casualty that did the RAF more good than harm.

“Where Eagles Never Flew” opens with the Battle of France. It goes on to show the Battle of Britain from both sides of the Channel, following the fate of German characters as well as British ones. The British characters are members of the fictional No. 606 (Hurricane) Squadron based at Tangmere. The German characters are the pilots and women auxiliaries of a Me109 Gruppe based in Northern France.  Find out more about “Where Eagles Never Flew” at:  https://crossseaspress.com/where-eagles-never-flew or watch a video teaser at: Eagles Video Teaser