Having seen the effectiveness of ground-attack operations, the German armed services perfected air-ground co-operation after the Luftwaffe was formed, while the Royal Air Force forgot all the lessons learned. It was compelled to re-learn them in the Western Desert in 1941, again resorting to the use of fighter aircraft. The capability of virtually all fighters to carry bombs and later rocket projectiles was exploited to the full, and by 1945 the Spitfires of 2nd Tactical Air Force were being used as dive-bombers. The most famous ground-attack aircraft in British service at this time, the Hawker Typhoon, originated as a fighter, and was re-roled when it proved inadequate at higher altitudes. Its qualities of speed, firepower and toughness meant that it proved almost ideal for the job. The fame that the type won perhaps disguises the fact that, by 1945, the gaining of air superiority by the Allies meant that virtually all fighter types could be spared for ground-support operations and armed reconnaissance. Such work, however, was made extremely dangerous by the likelihood of liberal amounts of flak.
This is vividly recalled by many RAF fighter pilots, especially those who flew the Hawker Tempest. A development of the Typhoon, the little-known Tempest was one of the best fighter aircraft of the war at medium to low altitudes, and was a stable gun-platform. Although it did not normally carry bombs or rocket projectiles, it was still an ideal tool for ground-attack operations. This meant that the pilots regularly encountered heavy flak, as the former commanding officer of 486 Squadron, C. J. ‘Jimmy’ Sheddan, noted when recalling an incident early in 1945:
‘Towards the end of the war trains often had flak carriages spaced throughout their entire length and it does nothing for your nerves when your aircraft seems surrounded by tracer and you know that for every one you can see there is at least four that are invisible. The Germans also used heavily armed trains as flak traps. One of my worst moments was when [Squadron Leader Warren] “Smokey” Schrader drew my attention to a train which I was trying hard not to see, as I knew in my heart that it was a plant – too much smoke, too little movement… I was between the devil and the deep blue sea. I had been at this game for longer than I cared to remember and knew that this was one train that I should keep away from, but with Smokey… watching and waiting for my decision, I just had to take the risk and attack.
No sooner had I committed myself then all hell broke loose as the flak came showering up in waves. Crunch! About a foot of the end of my port wing folded over. Now I was in real trouble! Any sudden change of direction and that wing would stall, causing a spin. Down below was what looked like a train full of guns and all firing at a single aircraft… There was no way that my plane should have passed through the wall of lead without receiving further damage. However, I survived – just!’27
It was not only RAF pilots who suffered from this. One of the leading exponents of the P-47 Thunderbolt, Francis Gabreski (28 victories), was shot down when attacking ground targets, as were a number of other highly experienced men. Just as in the First World War, skill and experience could do little to save them from a well-aimed – or even a lucky – burst of flak. The random nature of ground-attack operations meant that they were often disliked intensely by fighter pilots. Pilots knew that, in aerial combat, skill, judgement and experience could greatly increase their chances of survival, whereas flak did not discriminate between good or bad flying. By 1945 all sides had the ability to make ground-attack a decidedly hazardous mission for participants. The most obvious example of this occurred on New Year’s Day 1945 with ‘Operation Bodenplatte’, the Luftwaffe’s attempt to cripple the Allied air forces on the ground. The operation saw the use of a large number of fighters, with somewhere between 700 and 800 aircraft being used. Although the mission saw the destruction of nearly 200 Allied aircraft, ‘Bodenplatte’ was a disaster for the Luftwaffe. Unbriefed German flak gunners shot down a number of their own aircraft as they headed to and from the lines, and the Allies were not caught totally by surprise, as some aircraft were already airborne. At the end of the operation, an estimated 300 German aircraft had been lost, along with over 230 of the pilots.28
This was perhaps the most extreme example of a fighter force suffering from its employment for ground-attack. The Luftwaffe especially was unable to sustain such losses since its fighter pilots were in almost constant action. Unlike the Allies, where pilots served an operational tour and were then sent to a second-line posting, German fighter pilots continued to fly until they were shot down and either killed or wounded badly enough to ground them. While this system meant that German pilots gained immense amounts of operational experience and scored enormous victory tallies, it also ensured that they became fatigued and less effective. Furthermore, they were generally unable to pass their experience on to new pilots at training schools. Although Allied pilots frequently felt that teaching new recruits how to fly and fight could hardly be described as a ‘rest tour’, they were at least able to pass on some of their experience (even if ‘Johnnie’ Johnson was moved to note that ‘the right senior officer was not present’ to explain how to win at air combat29). Thus the Germans were forced to throw inexperienced pilots into battle, where they proved to be hugely vulnerable to marauding American escort fighters. The pilots of the latter were becoming progressively more experienced, and as the quality of their opponents decreased, they were less likely to be shot down themselves. As Adolf Galland was moved to remark. ‘A steadily increasing percentage of the young and inexperienced pilots were shot down before they reached their tenth operational flight.’30
This meant that the Luftwaffe was always struggling to keep up. As its pilots were outnumbered, even the huge experience levels of the experten were not enough to prevent them from being defeated. The lack of numbers became significant. In certain instances history had demonstrated that if an outnumbered air force possessed aircraft as good as or better than the enemy, it could at the very least cause serious problems for the enemy. By both 1918 and 1945 the Germans were in possession of splendid fighters, but the Allied aircraft were good enough to enable their pilots to defeat less-experienced opponents in a better machine. Von Richthofen rightly argued that the quality of the aircraft mattered less than the quality of the man who flew it, although if pilots of equal ability were in aircraft of differing quality, the one in the better machine was likely to win.
The Fokker D VII may have been the best aircraft of the Great War, but it was overcome by a combination of factors. The Allies had greater numbers of aircraft, and the fighters were of a nearly similar qualitative level. This was enough to minimise the effect of the Fokker. The same occurred in 1945. While the FW190D, Ta152 and Me262 could all claim to be superior in some way to their opponents, this was offset by the pilots of these types being outnumbered by aircraft that could at least match them if well flown. This applied even to the Me262, which although 100mph faster than any Allied fighter available, was shot down frequently by Mustang, Spitfire and Tempest pilots. This was in direct contrast to the experience of German and British pilots in 1941 and early 1942 when the first versions of the FW190 had been introduced. The Luftwaffe then possessed an aircraft that was superior to any in British service (until the Spitfire Mark IX arrived) and large numbers of experienced pilots. Although the RAF was able to give a good account of itself generally against the FW190, the problems it faced were serious. They were further intensified by the fact that the RAF was operating over enemy-held territory, thus ensuring that it was unlikely that pilots of shot-down aircraft would be able to return to battle.
The same could be said of the RFC’s experience in early 1917, culminating in ‘Bloody April’. Although the RFC possessed many highly proficient pilots, its equipment was simply not good enough to deal with the fighters in German service. This saw the loss of many experienced men, who had to be replaced by aircrew fresh out of training schools. This created a vicious cycle of losses, where newcomers to fighter squadrons were unable