translated by Neil Page

"...Down below we could make out the ruined streets of Stalingrad under their gray shroud of snow. We could see the Volga river, wide and sluggish. Dazzling pinpricks of light flared here and there, now singly, now grouped together. At other points, impacts could be seen detonating on the ground in a similar rhythm. Russian artillery was pounding the ever-shrinking perimeter of  6. Armee.  Over Pitomnik itself more drama was unfolding. Several flight crews, no doubt chaotically thrown together and hastily dispatched to the front, instructors from flight schools or barely fledged student pilots, could be seen circling over the field in their venerable Ju 52s. The Russians had lit up the landing strip and were firing off green signal flares, an invitation to land. Some of the machines had lined up an approach and let down to land - heading right into the arms of the waiting Ivans and certain doom. Recognising their terrible error right at the last moment, individual comrades had attempted to power off again but for most it was too late. We had no idea what radio frequency they were operating on so it was impossible to warn them. For most this was the first and last time they had seen Stalingrad from the air. Unsurprisingly they had mistaken Pitomnik for Gumrak. After a tiring and trying flight over several hundred kilometers of enemy-held territory, harried by fighters and flak, the majority of these tyros had thought that they had finally reached their destination on arriving over the brightly lit, flak-free strip. In all probability the Russians had guided them there over the frequency..How were they to recognise that those three pinpricks of green light underneath us now marked out the correct landing strip, located at Gumrak, right on the edge of the city. Of course had they been operating in skies clear of enemy fighters they might have flown a circuit at lower altitude and spotted the wrecks of our own machines, Ju 52s and He 111s, which had been laboriously dragged clear of the narrow strip, and which bore silent witness. For it was here that German re-supply flights now had to land...."

"..Letting down over the temporary landing ground I flew a low pass along the strip. I could clearly distinguish groups of Landsers, their faces turned skyward, hope burgeoning anew. They waved lethargically. Yet I was still reluctant to commit myself to a landing. I had to be sure that I would be able to get airborne again; there was no point in making a vain sacrifice..I estimated the width of the landing strip that had been shoveled clear at some fifty meters, while the wingspan of the He 111 measured 24 meters. It could only have been 800 meters long while a  loaded He 111 would ordinarily have required a 1,500 meter long strip to get airborne. The wreckage lining the strip would make it a close run thing..."

(to be continued..)