INTRODUCTION
The airfield at Idriza was a typical Eastern Front Luftwaffe forward airstrip. The aircraft stood dispersed over a wide area, each machine camouflaged with foliage cut from a wood some two kilometres away. The vegetation had to be brought by trucks escorted by a strong sentry company. German soldiers charged with this task were averse to venturing too deep into the woodlands since they could very likely harbor one of numerous groups of partisans. Since the beginning of the latest Soviet offensive, code-named Bagration, partisan activities had intensified to such an extent that German airfields took on the air of besieged enclaves. Bringing forward ammunition and supplies was an even more daunting task – trains were blown up, while truck convoys struggled through, coming under fire from almost every copse of trees.
As the sun rose on 2 July 1944, Lt. Werner Gail clambered up into his FW 190 F feeling numb and tired. His sleeping quarters consisted of a pit dug into the ground with a tarp stretched across as a makeshift roof. Although no one complained, the primitive conditions had a noticeable effect on the entire personnel of III./SG 3. The massive new Red Army offensive, which had started ten days before, had smashed through the defences of German Army Group Centre like a steamroller. Despite fierce resistance the Germans’ defensive lines had been penetrated in a number of places and all available ground-attack units had been thrown in to the fray to deal with this new threat.
The order of the day was the same every morning – an armed reconnaissance sortie. The task was to pinpoint the Soviet forces spotted the evening of the previous day, for the benefit of the remainder of III./SG 3. Werner Gail led his Schwarm up to 2000 meters to avoid the expected barrage of anti-aircraft artillery as they over-flew the front line. Russians learnt the hard way not to ignore German ground-attack aircraft, and whenever Focke Wulfs appeared within range, they were fired upon with every available weapon. On this occasion they were also met with salvoes of machine gun fire from the ground, soon accompanied by red balls of fire marking the detonations of large calibre rounds exploding in the air. Weaving in and out of the bursts the German pilots quickly ran this gauntlet in a matter of a dozen or so nervous seconds.
The previous night, a column of T-34 tanks had been located heading for the front line, with the small village of Kutinkovo lying along their route. The dust road they followed wound through numerous woodlands, which offered excellent cover for the advancing Russians. Unless they stopped overnight in the open, they would be very difficult to detect.
The four Focke Wulfs let down to 1000 meters, flying a loose formation of two Rotten. Lt. Gail was carefully scanning the terrain passing below but in vain. The day had dawned bright and clear, and the Russians, certainly anxious to get to their destination as quickly as possible, were already on the move. His hunting instincts had not failed him. Ahead, a cloud of dust hung above the edge of a forest. There they were!
- Dust cloud ten o’clock low – he alerted his Schwarm over the R/T – Get ready.
The Germans immediately split into two Rotten. Each aircraft went into a diving turn, peeling off to sweep down earthwards. By now, the T-34s, accompanied by self-propelled howitzers, were clearly visible, rolling out from beneath the trees.
In line astern, the Focke Wulfs continued their high-speed dive, reaching almost 500 kph. As they sped towards the left flank of the armored column, they descended to no more than 10 meters above the ground. A cloud of dust appeared behind the tail of Werner Gail’s machine, kicked up by the propeller wash.
For a while no one fired at them. The column seemed to have been taken by surprise. The steel monster leading the way, a white “37” on its turret, grew rapidly in Gail’s gun-sight. At the very moment it disappeared behind the cowling of the aircraft, the pilot pressed the release button, setting free a quarter-ton bomb. Equipped with a one-second delay fuze, the bomb duly bounced off the ground, and exploded against the side of the tank. When the dust settled, Gail was presented with an astonishing sight. The T-34, weighing 26 tons, lay flipped on its right side, its rear decking a blazing inferno fed by ruptured fuel tanks. The remaining three pilots also dropped their bombs, but only Lt. Gustav Schubert could claim success. He managed to land his bomb directly underneath a tank. An enormous explosion lifted the tank fully one metre off the ground, bursting it asunder. Two pillars of smoke billowed up over the scene, spiraling straight up into the windless sky.
Meanwhile, heavy machine guns mounted on the turrets of Russian vehicles opened up but the Germans were already at 500 meters and steadily climbing. There was no point in engaging tanks with 20 mm cannon. The Schwarm formed up and headed back westwards. Before they crossed the frontline, Lt. Gail spotted two more columns of trucks heavily laden with supplies, on their way to the frontline – a target worth further attention.
As soon as they touched down at Idriza, the ground crew busied themselves with bombing up their Focke Wulfs for another sortie. Werner Gail reported to the commander of III./SG 3 for the post-sortie debrief, furnishing more details on the Soviet columns’ whereabouts. They both agreed that the transports with fuel and ammunition were priority targets as destroying them would certainly slow down the Soviet advance. Half an hour later, 12 bomb-toting FW 190 Fs taxied out under the command of Lt Gail, ready for take-off.
Shortly after crossing the frontline, both columns of trucks were found where expected. Strings of ZiS trucks easily betrayed their position with clouds of dust billowing up over sun-scorched roads. The German formation split up into two elements, each group of six heading for its assigned column. At first, the fire from the ground was intense but the AA guns mounted on the trucks were quickly silenced with bursts from the Focke Wulfs’ on-board armament.
Meanwhile, each formation of six aircraft divided further into two-aircraft Rotten, aiming at the front and rear of the column. The vehicles trapped in the convoy struggled to negociate the burning wrecks, but when drums of fuel and boxes of ammunition began to go off, chaos broke out on the road. Drivers jumped hastily out of their cabs and dashed for cover through the surrounding fields. One of the trucks, its tarp already ablaze, rammed another vehicle in front of it. The fuel load exploded, turning everything within a 20-meter radius into a fiery inferno.
Having dropped their bombs, the Focke Wulfs began to systematically spray salvoes of 20 mm cannon fire through what remained of the convoy. The experienced Schlachtflieger avoided flying along the length of the columns to protect themselves from shrapnel and debris flung into the air. Engaging them from the flanks, they pressed home their murderous attacks. Time after time, a vehicle would disappear in an intense flash before being engulfed in a yellow-orange fireball. One 30-vehicle column was completely destroyed. The other 50-truck column had sustained heavy damage and was enveloped in a shroud of thick smoke, the number of burning ZiS trucks being impossible to determine.
After 15 minutes of constant attacks, the Germans had almost exhausted their ammunition. It was always wise to retain a few rounds for the return flight in case they tangled with Russian fighters and so it proved on this occasion. As the Focke Wulfs were re-assembling, they were bounced by a gaggle of La-5 fighters diving out of the sun. But the Germans were alert to the danger. Pulling up the noses of their machines, they hauled around for a head-on attack. The first salvos from both sides sprayed wide of the mark and both formations flashed past one another, scattering into individual dogfights. Tracers streaked the sky in every direction. Freed from their deadly cargoes, the FW190Fs were by no means inferior to the Lavochkins. Nevertheless, low on ammo, the Germans were anxious to break off. Fortunately, a small group of Bf 109Gs joined in the combat. Their hands full with the new adversary, the Soviet fighters allowed the machines of III./SG 3 to flee the scene. The Schlachtflieger failed to claim any victories over the La-5s, but they managed to get home with no losses either.
It was already noon when Lt. Gail clambered out of the cockpit. Only now did he realise that he hadn’t eaten breakfast. A tin with scrambled eggs handed to him was a real godsend. He joined the group of pilots surrounding the commander of III./SG 3 Hptm. Heinz Hoge, taking mental notes about the next target. A reconnaissance aircraft had discovered an enemy troop concentration immediately behind the frontline, clearly preparing for an assault on a German infantry division. III./ SG 3’s Focke Wulfs were to attack them; some machines would be armed with anti-personnel cluster bombs, the rest with SC 250 general purpose bombs for use against artillery positions.
The commander noticed Gail eating during the briefing and paused to reprimand him. Gail responded impassively: “This is my first meal today, Herr Hauptmann; could be my last, too!”
Replenished with fuel and munitions and laden with bombs, the Focke Wulf formation was soon back in the air. Shortly after the third sortie, the pilots were called for an early dinner but Gail was no longer hungry. He cursed his “soldier’s bad luck” but the Kommandeur patted him on the shoulder with a smile and consoled him saying:
“Perhaps you should have waited a while longer, Herr Leutnant, eh? Don’t worry about missing a meal, dinner will be served for you later. You can have it when you return. In the evening.”
Unfortunately, during his fourth combat sortie of that day, Gail was forced to belly-land his stricken FW 190, a victim of anti-aircraft fire. More than his machine, he regretted losing out on his promised bowl of pea soup. Given a ride back to his base by some infantry unit, he reached Idriza by nightfall. His colleagues were jubilant on seeing him safe and sound, but even better, Hptm. Hoge produced a bowl of hot soup. To Lt. Gail, no meal had ever tasted as good as the soup he had that summer evening. The following day, his crashed aircraft was recovered back to the unit and made serviceable again.
Coming soon;
Early development & service history
Focke Wulf 190 over the Kanalfront
Air Battles over the Steppes
Defending the Reich
The Sturmgruppen
Profile artwork & rare photos
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