Kampfgeschwader (KG) 53 had taken-off in darkness south of Warsaw, steadily climbing to maximum height before setting course to airfields between Bialystok and Minsk in Belorussia. Dornier Do17-Zs from KG2 were penetrating Soviet airspace to the north toward Grodno and Vilnius. KG3, having taken-off from Demblin, was still climbing between Brest-Litovsk and Kobrin. The aircrew scanning the darkened landscape below for navigational clues were hand-picked men, with many hours’ night-flying experience. These 20–30 aircraft formed the vanguard of the air strike. The mission was to fly undetected into Russia and strike fighter bases behind the central front. Three bombers were allocated to each assigned airfield.(1)
They droned on towards their targets. Below, the earth was shrouded in a mist-streaked darkness. Pin-pricks of light indicated inhabited areas. Ahead, and barely discernible, was a pale strip of light emerging above the eastern horizon. There was little cloud. Only 15 minutes remained before H-hour.
Behind them, in German-occupied Poland, scores of airstrips were bustling with purposeful activity. Bombs were still being loaded and pilots briefed. Aircraft engines burst into life, startling birds who flew off screeching into the top branches of trees surrounding isolated and heavily camouflaged landing strips.
Leutnant Heinz Knoke, a Luftwaffe Messerschmitt Bf109 fighter pilot based at Suwalki air force station near the Russian frontier, watched as groups of Junkers Ju87 Stuka dive-bombers and fighter planes from his own unit slowly took shape in the emerging twilight. There had been rumours of an attack on Russia. ‘That appeals to me,’ he confided to his diary that night. ‘Bolshevism is the archenemy of Europe and of western civilisation.’ Orders came through earlier that evening directing that the scheduled Berlin-Moscow airliner was to be shot down. This created quite a stir. His commanding officer took-off with the headquarters flight to execute the mission, ‘but they failed to intercept the Douglas’.
Knoke had spent the earlier part of the night sitting in the mess discussing the likely course of events with other pilots. ‘The order for shooting down the Russian Douglas airliner,’ he wrote, ‘has convinced me that there is to be a war against Bolshevism.’ They sat around waiting for the alert.(2)
‘Hardly anybody could sleep,’ recalled Arnold Döring, a navigator with KG53, the ‘Legion Condor’, ‘because this was to be our first raid.’ Aircrews had been up since 01.30 hours, briefing and preparing for a raid on Bielsk-Pilici airport. The aerodrome was thought to be full of Soviet fighter aircraft. As they hurried ‘like madmen’ about the airfield, attending to last-minute preparations, they were aware of ‘a glare of fire and a faint strip of light that signalled the approaching day’. Although these aircraft were not part of the vanguard force, already airborne, they still faced the difficulty of taking-off and forming up in the dark. ‘So many things went through my mind,’ Döring recalled. ‘Would we be able to take-off in darkness, with fully laden machines, from this little airfield, where we’d only been a few days?’
The Luftwaffe was confident with its task but, inevitably on the eve of combat, there was nervous trepidation. Hans Vowinckel, a 35-year-old bomber crew member wrote to this wife:
‘I have not quite said what I truly feel, and really wish to say. Already there is insufficient time off to write. You will come to understand later why this is the case. So much remains unsaid. But basically I think you know exactly what I want to say!’(3)
Planning for this crucial air strike, which aimed to guarantee the requisite air superiority needed to support the ground force attack, had been going on at the Gatow Air Academy near Berlin since 20 February 1941. Generalfeldmarschall Albert Kesselring, the commander of Luftflotte 2, was given overall command of the Luftwaffe forces earmarked for ‘Barbarossa’. Hitler, convinced of the innate inferiority of the Soviet Union had been ‘stunned’ by early reports presented on the Red Air Force.(4) Luftwaffe Intelligence (Ic) reports assessed the total strength of the Red Air Force to be 10,500 combat aircraft, of which 7,500 were in European Russia and 3,000 in Asia. Only 50% of these were reckoned to be modern. The number of aircraft they might expect to encounter over the front, not including transport and liaison assets, was estimated at 5,700. Some 1,360 reconnaissance and bomber types and 1,490 fighters were believed to be operational. These could be reinforced during the first half of 1941 by 700 new fighters. These formed part of a modernisation and re-equipment programme which would also update 50% of the bomber fleet but not increase its overall numbers. In support, the Red Air Force could depend on 15,000 fully trained pilots, 150,000 ground personnel and 10,000 training aircraft.(5)
The Luftwaffe, by contrast, on 21 June had 757 bombers operational from a total of 952, 362 of 465 dive-bombers, 64 Messerschmitt Bf110 Zerstörer fighters (the Bf110 Zerstörer, or destroyer, was a heavy fighter) and 735 of 965 conventional fighters, in addition to reconnaissance, sea, liaison and transport types.(6) Despite the Soviet superiority – they had three or four times the number of Luftwaffe aircraft – Luftwaffe staffs assessed overall enemy combat effectiveness would be much smaller. Because of the size of the operational area to be overflown and scepticism over Russian training and command and control capabilities, it was thought the Soviet air divisions would not to be able to mount joint operations with their ground forces. Luftwaffe General Konrad briefed Halder, the German Army Chief of Staff, selectively on the Red Air Force. Fighters were rated inferior to Luftwaffe variants and were described as ‘fair game for German fighters’ – as were the bombers. Red Air Force training, leadership and tactics were belittled. Halder commented in note form that Soviet leadership skills were ‘hard and brutal, but without training in modern tactics, and mechanical, lacking adaptability’.(7)
German planning was characterised by this subjective rather than objective appreciation of capability. On 22 June 1941 Luftwaffe staff estimated that only 1,300 bombers and 1,500 fighters were fully operational in European Russia, this from an overall assessment of 5,800 aircraft. Moreover, radio intercepts had identified the assembly of some 13,000–14,000 aircraft in western Russia.(8) General Jeschonnek, the Luftwaffe Chief of Staff, had earlier briefed Halder that ‘the Luftwaffe expects concentrated attacks against our spearheads, but thinks they will collapse owing to our superior technique and experience’. All faith was placed in the effectiveness of the pre-emptive strike, which aimed to catch the Red Air Force vulnerable and at peace on the ground. ‘Russian ground organisations, being organic to operational flying units,’ Jeschonnek explained, ‘are clumsy and, once disrupted, cannot be readily restored.’(9)
Kesselring’s mission was clear:
‘My orders from the C-in-C Luftwaffe were primarily to gain air superiority, and if possible, air supremacy, and to support the army, especially the Panzer groups, in their battle with the Russian Army. Any further assignments would lead to a harmful dissipation and must at first be shelved.’(10)
Contrary to the planning priorities that had been accorded the Luftwaffe for the invasion of the West, the army this time was to have final say on the timing of H-hour. It was set for 03.15 hours on 22 June. The decision had emanated from a heated and protracted debate between the General Staffs of both land and air forces. ‘My Geschwader, to get into formation and attack in force, need daylight’ observed Kesselring. ‘If the army persists in marching in darkness, it will be a whole hour before we can be over the enemy’s airfields, and by then the birds will have flown.’ The army had to assault at first light to achieve maximum tactical surprise, but thereafter wanted the Red Air Force kept at bay. Generalfeldmarschall Fedor von Bock, commanding Army Group Centre, responded: ‘the enemy will be put on his guard the moment your aircraft are heard crossing the frontier. From then on the whole element of surprise will be lost.’ Zero hour was fixed at daybreak against the wishes of the Luftwaffe ‘for very convincing ground tactical reasons,’ recalled Kesselring. ‘This was a great handicap to us, but we managed to overcome it.’(11) The compromise was selective pre-emptive night attacks conducted b
y specially trained crews. These should cause sufficient mayhem on the ground to delay any concerted response before the arrival of the main strike waves.
Sixty per cent of the Luftwaffe’s strength was deployed along the frontier with the Soviet Union on 22 June: 1,400 of its 1,945 operational aircraft, of which 1,280 were serviceable. They were assembled in four Luftflotten, warming up or training over airstrips dispersed across the new front. Luftflotte 1 would support Army Group North; Luftflotte 2 with 50% of the strike force, was to attack with Army Group Centre. Luftflotte 4 would operate over Army Group South and Luftflotte 5 would fly in the north from Norway. All told there were 650 fighters, 831 bombers, 324 dive-bombers, 140 reconnaissance and 200 transports and other variants. To the south, the Romanian Army was supported by a further 230 aircraft, including Hungarian and Slovakian machines; 299 Finnish aircraft would join later.
The force, however, was completely outnumbered by the enemy. German estimates of Red Air Force strengths were out by at least a half. Only 30% of the total European Russian element had been located. Fighter figures were misrepresented by half and bombers by a third. Nevertheless, the Luftwaffe was convinced it could deal with the threefold superiority it had identified by its own qualitative superiority and a devastating pre-emptive strike.(12)
Arnold Döring took-off in darkness with KG53 which managed, despite difficulties, to form up in the restricted visibility. They headed toward Sielce airport in order to rendezvous with their fighter escort. ‘However,’ to their dismay, ‘our fighter friends were nowhere to be seen,’ Döring declared. Crews anxiously scanned the skies from their cockpits. ‘That is rich, we thought.’ There was no alternative but to press on. ‘After a slight change of course,’ he recalled, ‘we flew on stubbornly towards the target.’(13)
In Berlin the day had been oppressively hot and close. Josef Goebbels, the Minister of Propaganda, burdened with the knowledge of the onslaught, found it difficult to concentrate on routine. He was, nevertheless, confident.
‘The business of Russia is becoming more dramatic by the hour,’ he confided to his diary. Russian protests concerning German frontier overflights were studiously ignored. ‘Molotov has asked for permission to visit Berlin, but has been fobbed off. A naïve request,’ Goebbels wrote, which ‘should have been made six months ago. Our enemies are falling apart.’
During the afternoon Goebbels hosted a visiting Italian delegation at his home at Schwanenwerder. The guests were invited to watch a recently released American film – Gone with the Wind – which all found impressive. Despite all this social activity, Goebbels admitted, ‘I cannot relax sufficiently to give it my full attention.’ His colleagues at the Ministry were informed about the coming operation. ‘At home it is so close as to be almost intolerable,’ Goebbels complained. ‘But the entire world is waiting for the cleansing storm.’ As his guests watched the long film to its conclusion, the Minister ordered his Ministry officials out to his house ‘so that I have them close at hand’.
A telephone call from the Führer summoned him to the Reich Chancellery. Shining lights and open windows in the various army headquarters nearby provided mute testimony to the activity going on to finalise last-minute preparations for the impending attack. The code word ‘Dortmund’, confirming H-hour at 03.30 hours, was given at 13.00 hours. Should an unexpected delay occur, it would be postponed by a further coded message ‘Altona’. Nobody seriously expected Altona to be transmitted.
Hitler briefed Goebbels on the latest developments. Wladimir Dekanosow, the Soviet Ambassador in Berlin, had made representations about illegal reconnaissance flights across the border, but had received yet another evasive response. After discussion it was decided that the time for reading the proclamation of war over the radio should be set for 05.30 hours. The international press and correspondents would receive their summons after 04.00 hours. ‘By then,’ Goebbels noted, ‘the enemy will know what is happening, and it will be time that the nation and world were informed as well.’ Meanwhile, the inhabitants of both Moscow and Berlin slept on, blissfully unaware of impending events.
Goebbels left Hitler at 02.30 hours, noting: ‘The Führer is very solemn. He intends to sleep for a few hours. And this is the best thing that he can do.’ He drove on to his own ministry building, noting ‘outside on the Wilhelmplatz, it is quiet and deserted. Berlin and the entire Reich are asleep.’ It was still pitch dark when he arrived to brief his staff. ‘Total amazement in all quarters’ was the response, even though ‘most had guessed half, or even the whole truth’. They set to work immediately, notifying and mobilising the radio, press and newsreel cameramen. Goebbels glanced repeatedly at his watch. ‘03.30 hours. Now the guns will be thundering. May God bless our weapons!’(14)
Over the primary Russian fighter bases immediately behind the newly forming Ostfront (Eastern Front), trios of aircraft from KG2, KG3 and KG53 had arrived undetected. It was still dark, but a shimmering strip of light was now floating on the eastern horizon. The independently operating wings began their descent. By 03.15 hours they were roaring in at low level. Hundreds of SD2 2kg fragmentation bombs began to trickle from open bomb bays, invisible against the night sky. They fell among serried ranks of aircraft, neatly parked wingtip to wingtip with personnel tents situated close by. It was peacetime. The Russian aircraft were neither camouflaged nor dispersed. Last-minute alerts had been to no avail. The small bombs were adjusted to explode either on impact or above ground. Within seconds, crackling multiple explosions began to envelop the lines of aircraft as light flashes illuminated the sky. Each bomblet had a blast radius of up to 12m. Airframes were lacerated and slashed by the release of 50–250 particles of shrapnel. A direct hit had the impact of a medium antiaircraft shell. Punctured fuel tanks, ignited by subsequent detonations, produced multiple swirling fireballs, jetting dense clouds of boiling black smoke into the night sky. The result was total chaos. Attempts to combat fires by dazed ground crews were inhibited by vicious delayed-action explosions, which further demoralised and added to casualties. There was no guidance from superior headquarters. Individual stations coped as best they could.
It took some four hours for situation reports to get out. Third Soviet Army HQ in Grodno, north-west of Bialystok, called the Western Special Military District Chief of Staff:
‘From 04.00 hours, there were aviation raids of three to five aircraft each every 20 to 30 minutes. Grodno, Sopotskin, and especially army headquarters were bombed. At 07.15 hours Grodno was bombed by 16 aircraft at an altitude of 1,000m. Dombrovo and Novy Drogun are burning. There are fires in Grodno. From 04.30–07.00 hours there were four raids against the Novy Dvor airfield by groups of 13 to 15 aircraft. Losses: two aircraft burned, six were taken out of action. Two men were seriously and six lightly wounded. At 05.00 hours the Sokulka airfield was subjected to enemy bombing and machine gunfire. Two men were killed and eight wounded.’(15)
Back at Suwalki air base in Poland, Stuka dive-bombers and Messerschmitt Bf109s converted into fighter-bombers were lining up and jockeying for position in the half light of dawn. Leutnant Heinz Knoke remembered the general alert for all Geschwader sounded at 04.00 hours. ‘Every unit on the airfield is buzzing with life,’ he recalled. With all the activity came an increasing awareness of the scale of this operation. ‘All night long,’ Knoke declared, ‘I hear the distant rumble of tanks and vehicles. We are only a few kilometres from the border.’ Within one hour his squadron was airborne. Four fighter aircraft in Knoke’s Staffel, including his own, were equipped with bomb-release mechanisms. They had practised for this mission weeks ahead. ‘Now there is a rack slung along the belly of my good “Emil”, carrying 100 2.5kg fragmentation bombs,’ he declared. ‘It will be a pleasure for me to drop them on Ivan’s dirty feet.’
The objective was a Russian headquarters situated in woods to the west of Druskieniki; it was to be a low-level pass. As they skimmed treetops ‘we noticed endless German columns rolling eastwards’. As he looked up, he observed bomber formation
s ‘and the dreaded Stuka dive-bombers alongside us, all heading in the same direction’.(16)
Kesselring’s Luftflotten, using the ambient light of dawn, were now flying in formation, intent on delivering the main blow following the initial spoiling attacks. The first strikes were made by 637 bombers and 231 fighters penetrating Soviet airspace shortly after first light. Their objectives included 31 airfields.(17)
Arnold Döring, the Luftwaffe navigator flying in formation with KG53, flew over the River Bug frontier at 04.15 hours. Pilots and crew clinically went about their business.
‘Quite relaxed, I made a few adjustments to our course. Then I looked out of the window. It was very hazy down below, but we could make out our targets. I was surprised that the antiaircraft guns had not yet started up.’(18)
The formation started its bombing run. All along the Eastern Front from the North Cape to the Black Sea, waves of Kesselring’s four Luftflotten crossed the border and immediately went into the assault. Stuka dive-bombers descended shrieking onto more easily identified targets, while medium bombers carried on to more distant objectives. Fighter-bombers bombed and strafed Soviet airfields. ‘We could hardly believe our eyes,’ reported Hauptmann Hans von Hahn, commander of the 1st Staffel of Jagdgeschwader (JG) 3 operating against the Lvov area to the south. ‘Row after row of reconnaissance planes, bombers and fighters stood lined up as if on parade.’(19)
War Without Garlands: Operation Barbarossa 1941-1942 Page 9