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Praetorium Honoris

Thursday, August 17, 2023

Air Support

Ju 87 Stukas over the desert
(Source)
Newly promoted Gefreiter Hans Decker was bitching over the intercom to his pilot, Feldwebel Ernst Wolfram. "Why in the name of all that is Holy did they move us to North Africa. Blisteringly hot during the day, cold as a witch's tit at night, and more verdammte flies than I've ever seen in my entire life!"

Wolfram shook his head, if Decker wasn't complaining, he'd be worried, but now wasn't the time. They were 2000 meters above the desert floor and were expecting to come up on an English truck convoy at any minute.

"Halt die Klappe¹, Hans. Now is not the time."

From the terse tone of his pilot's voice, Decker could tell that he was nervous. With good reason, though they had yet to encounter any Spitfires in the desert, Hurricanes were plentiful, as were the American built P-40s which the South Africans were flying out of Tobruk.

The 109 pilots weren't impressed by the P-40, but then again, they weren't flying the Ju 87. An aircraft so ill-suited for air-to-air combat that they had been withdrawn from the Battle of Britain. Wolfram and Decker had survived that fight and were relieved to be sent to Sicily, as opposed to Russia.

Now they were in North Africa, a large detachment of their Stukageschwader² had been sent over to the desert to support Rommel's latest thrust east, they had traded the easy living in Italy for the harsh conditions of Libya. Decker didn't miss the combat over Malta, which was growing more costly with each passing day, but the British had yet to come up in strength to oppose them over Libya. As they got closer to Egypt, he expected that that would change.

The intel briefing that morning had warned them that things might be changing as the desert army drove on Tobruk. The British were falling back in some disarray, it looked like they might not make a stand at Tobruk, but more fighters were coming up to oppose the bombers. Older aircraft yes, but a Stuka was easy meat for any halfway decent pilot in a fighter.

"Penguin Lead, Penguin Three, dust cloud, eleven o'clock." Decker heard over the radio. If it was the truck convoy they were looking for, there were bound to be enemy fighters in the area.


Ian Sullivan was taking his turn on the Vickers machine gun which had been jury-rigged atop a Bedford lorry. It was hot, the dust was making it hard to see, and they were expecting air attacks along this section of the coast road. He saw something, he looked, looked again, then shouted out ...

"Stukas! At our five o'clock position!"

Alan Caddick, who was driving the truck loaded with wounded, glanced over at his tank commander, Sergeant Teddy O'Connell, for instructions.

"Keep 'er steady Alan, there's no way off this bloody road except into the desert. If the chap ahead speeds up, you speed up."

O'Connell was furious that there had been no replacement tanks at Tobruk, they'd been ordered all the way back to Alex.³ His crew had been split between this truck and the one behind initially, but at the first stop for fuel, he'd got all his lads onto this truck. "Sod the Army if it thinks they're going to split us up." had been his reason to the convoy commander. That man, a major with a Highland regiment, had readily agreed, he seemed a decent sort.

O'Connell felt the lorry lurch ahead as Caddick increased speed, the chap in front was accelerating, so must they. A second later, he heard Sullivan's Vickers open fire.


Wolfram's section had been detailed to hit the head of the column, as the aircraft tipped into its dive, he heard Decker call out, "The guys behind us are getting jumped, looks like those P-40s intel told us about!"

 As the enemy were ignoring them, for the moment, Wolfram concentrated on his dive. A number of crews had complained about the automatic dive recovery system lately, it was something Wolfram hadn't used since training. He didn't plan on utilizing that system any time soon, he had a deep distrust of anything "automatic." He knew his bird better than any technical contraption.

As his bombs fell free (he had a 250-kg bomb under the belly and a 50-kg bomb under each wing), he began his pullout. Grunting, he felt his vision start to fade around the edges, but once they were level, it cleared quickly. Then he nearly jumped out of his seat as Decker's gun began to hammer behind him.


Sergeant Pilot Christiaan Krige swore as he triggered the guns of his Kittyhawk, as his rounds went high over the Stuka to his front, the rounds of his intended prey's gunner slammed into the nose of his aircraft. He could feel that he was losing power. a glance at his oil pressure gauge told him why.

"Blue Lead, Blue Three, I've been tagged. Breaking away!"

As oil began to spatter his windscreen, he began to look for a spot to set his aircraft down. Things were going to hell much quicker than he cared for.


As Wolfram rejoined with the rest of his section, one of whom was missing, he heard nothing from his gunner. As he scanned the skies, looking for fighters, he saw a flight of four aircraft joining above, from their tail up posture, he could tell they were Me-109s.

"Hans, friendlies at six high, do you see them?"

Silence.

"Hans?"

A soft moan over the intercom, "Ernst, we need to land."

Knowing that the nearest base was over a hundred kilometers to the west, he began looking for a spot on the coastal road. "Penguin Lead, Four, I need to land, now!"

The voice of Hauptmann Wild came back, "Damage, injuries?"

"Injuries."

After a long moment, Wild came back. "Dust column about twenty kilometers west, that's the Afrika Korps, try and set down near them. See you back at base, good luck."

"Stay with me, Hans, I'm going to put the crate down soon."

In the rear seat, Decker was starting to shiver, he knew that without medical attention he would be dead, and soon.


"Herr Feldwebel, is that a Stuka ahead?" Oberpanzerschütze Schumacher was riding outside of his position in one of the side turret hatches. He saw something coming in low to their front, from the gull-winged shape, it had to be a Stuka.

Hoffmeister looked up, "It is, what the ..."

The aircraft set down on the road, bouncing once or twice before the tail settled as the pilot throttled back. When the dust had settled, Hoffmeister saw the pilot scramble out of his cockpit and frantically began pulling open the gunner's hood. He had a sick feeling.

"Fritz get us up to that aircraft fast as you can." Then on the radio he transmitted, "Need a Sanitäter up front, quickly!"

As the Panzer rolled to a stop, not ten meters from the aircraft, Hoffmeister yelled, "Give me the first aid kit."

After Krebs had handed it up, Hoffmeister ran to the aircraft and looked for how to climb up on the wing.


"Throw me the kit!" as Wolfram caught the first aid kit he pointed to the trailing edge of the aircraft. The Panzer crewman saw the boarding step on the fuselage and immediately figured out what it was for. Wolfram by then had turned his attention to his wounded gunner.

It looked bad, Decker's right leg was soaked in blood. Checking for a pulse, Decker shifted in his seat.

"I never figured you for one to try and cop a feel from a wounded comrade, Ernst." Decker grinned weakly as he said that.

Taking a breath, Decker said, "I managed to get a tourniquet on the leg, hard to see in all that mess, but I think the bleeding has stopped."

Moments later, Wolfram heard a brusque voice order, "Move!"

He stepped back and let the army medic through. The man checked everything out then turned and said, "You probably saved your gunner's life with that tourniquet. Good job, now we need to get him out of that seat, gently."

Wolfram, as he assisted the medic, said, "He put that on himself, I didn't do it."

The medic shook his head, "Your man has balls, I'll give him that. Gently, gently ...," the medic had the Panzer crewman and the Stuka pilot helping him. Moments later they had Decker on the ground.

Checking the tourniquet and the wound, the medic turned to the man who had driven him up to the head of the column in a Kübelwagen. "We need to get him back to the surgeon now, we might yet save this leg."

As the small car and its wounded burden sped back the way it had came, Wolfram looked at the Panzer crewman, extending his hand, "Wolfram, Ernst Wolfram, Stukageschwader Three."

Clasping the pilot's hand, Hoffmeister responded, "Hoffmeister, Willi, 2st Panzer. Do you need a lift?"

"No, I think I can get airborne from here, just block the road for me."

Gesturing back at the stopped column, Hoffmeister said, "You've already done that."

Wolfram chuckled, "I guess I should get out of the Army's way then."

As the big aircraft got into the air, Hoffmeister shook his head. "Hopefully, that gunner will be okay."

Weber spoke up, "It's even money he has to have that leg off. Seen it before."

"Come on, show's over, let's go hunting. The English won't wait for us!" Hoffmeister ordered, something odd in his voice.


As Panzer 413 trundled off down the coast road, the rest of the column fell in behind. Some twenty kilometers ahead, O'Connell's truck was now the lead vehicle in the convoy, Wolfram's bombs had destroyed five trucks at the front of the column.

"Even if we stay ahead of the Jerries, we might have nothing left by the time we get to Alex." O'Connell said to Caddick.

Caddick nodded towards the desert, three columns of smoke marked the funeral pyres of six German airman, brought down by South African fighters. "Will they run out of aircraft before we run out of trucks, I wonder."

O'Connell looked out at the smoke and said, "Sod them, sod all the bloody Huns."




¹ Shut up.
² Dive bomber wing
³ Alexandria in Egypt

32 comments:

  1. O'Connell and crew's odyssey continues, the journey to Alex is a long one. Lots of tension , well done Sarge.

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  2. You build tension as well as Sir Alfred did. Re: the Bedford Lorry - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bedford_QL Only 52,000 and change built.

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    1. Only? Roughly 5,300 Crusader tanks were built, yet they were ubiquitous in North Africa, as was the Bedford.

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  3. Sarge,
    Landing on a dirt road in the desert? Easy.
    Landing on a dirt road in the desert intact? Doable, requires luck.
    Landing on a dirt road in the desert intact and able to take off again? Stay away from Las Vegas, you’ve used up he remaining luck you had!

    Great story however!
    juvat

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    1. Not a dirt road, the coastal highway (the Via Balbia as the Italians called it) was actually paved. One of the few roads that was.

      I still wouldn't want to land on it!

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    2. That landing for the wounded crew by a friendly tank column was a net touch!

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    3. It was a fluid situation, they could have accidentally landed by a British column, but then I'd lose two characters!

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    4. Two? Let's hope it would have been three. War wounded update in some chapter at the end of the book perhaps?
      juvat

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    5. Three? (Two man crew on the Ju 87.)

      We'll know Decker's fate sooner than that.

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    6. OOPs, sorry got the who's who names screwed up. Hoffmeister & Weber were the tanker folks , not the Stuka crew

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    7. The Stuka had excellent rough-field capabilities. Which was very useful in Spain during their Civil War.

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    8. juvat - No worries, I can barely keep track of who's who without my handy-dandy roster.

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    9. Road? Piece of cake! Aug 18, 1944, Maj. Bert Marshal had his P51 hit by flack and belly landed. His wingman, Lt. Royce Priest disobeyed orders and landed his P51 in a wheatfield to rescue him. Two other P51s held off German infantry until his commander was crammed into the cockpit, and they took off...Take that, you delicate geared fast movers...

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    10. Tomorrow is August 18th...

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  4. Another group of winners in the war against death! I like how your stories flow from side-to-side.

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    1. Too many writers focus on one side, it takes at least two sides to fight a war. Both of those sides will have good people and bad people. Iw write this way in order to understand that, both for myself and for others. Too often we demonize the "other side" (happening right now in this country, there is evil, and good, on both sides, the evil gets all the press).

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    2. I'd be grateful to see examples of this "good" you see in the "other side" operating on our soil against our Republic, Sarge. all I've been able to see are some misguided and "well meaning" pawns of the left. They are by no means evil, merely enabling evil.
      You know I'm a fan of your writing and I especially appreciate your skill and humanity in storytelling; it was possible to find honorable people on the other side in those bygone days. Not seeing it now.
      Boat Guy

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    3. On the earthly plane there is always good and evil, on both sides. Only Satan's legions are completely evil. Take everything you read or hear with large doses of salt. Both sides are pushing an agenda, both lie to us, constantly. Patience, things will either work out, or they won't. There's not much we can do about it. Regardless of what some keyboard warriors might claim, and rest assured, you won't see them on the barricades any time soon.

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    4. Well we CAN do something about it; but that time hasn't come yet. I'd prefer it didn't but don't see much in the way of options; ultimately it will come to fight or submit.
      BG

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    5. There were issues with the end of WWI, lots of bad feelings against the French, British and Russians. A lot of Germans thought 'Payback Time' and 'Us vs Them, so it better be Us.'

      It's not evil to believe that. It's how you apply it that makes it evil. Bombing a line of trucks full of soldiers? Not evil. Bomb a hospital that is only doing medical services? Okay, that's evil.

      And evil is relative. Is the starvation of Japan by the Allies evil? Was carpetbombing most of Japan or Germany evil? Shooting sailors in the water because you can't rescue any more, is that evil, or is it evil to let them drown or get eaten by sharks?

      Germany was, kind of, trying to recreate the Holy Roman Empire, with them as the key player and their leader as the Holy Roman Emperor, of course, without the Holy or Roman portion.

      Many of the combatants saw the war as a Great Crusade against Evil. Both sides. Some saw it as a mark of their superiority, like some Germans and Japan.

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    6. Shades of gray, seems it's always been that way.

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  5. Did Krige land OK? I saw what you did about the auto pullout.😊

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    1. You'll have to wait and see on Krige, the Muse has not revealed his fate yet.

      I was thinking of you when I did the auto-pullout thing. Carrier aircraft now have an automatic system for assisting with landings on the boat. I know some who like it, some who don't. When it works ... is the song of many an automated system.

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  6. Good calling the P-40 in British service the Kittyhawk. Lot of people don't know that moniker. The P-40 was good in the Desert, where a lot of action was low to mid level. Though sand did mess with the Allison engine and a dust-filter system had to be quickly developed. Well, the same could be said for every other vehicle in Africa at the time.

    Nice thing about the boys having a truck, beats walking. Really beats walking.

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    1. I'd read an article about South African pilots and their P-40s. A rugged, useful bird in the desert.

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  7. I like, again. And, again I will embarrass you with a favorable and sincere ranking with Shaara's "Killer Angels."
    It's hard to write credibly even about one's own service. Much more so for different services, but multiple services, from multiple countries, in widely spread theaters, set in warfare more than three quarters of a century ago is damned hard to do well.

    Now, go take some aspirin for your swelled head.
    Double rum ration for the Muse.
    John Blackshoe

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    1. To be honest, I loved Shaara's book (I've read a lot of his son's writing as well) and I loved the way he covered both sides. A pretty good inspiration to mimic.

      Double rum ration for the Muse, aye. She'll be needing it!

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Just be polite... that's all I ask. (For Buck)
Can't be nice, go somewhere else...

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