Thursday, April 23, 2015

The Lion of the North - 30 Years War

King Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden at the Battle of Breitenfeld, 1631
In the Musée Historique de Strasbourg - Artist: Johann Walter
King Gustav II Adolf (Gustavus Adolphus is the Latinized version of the King's name) is perhaps one of the most brilliant soldiers you've probably never heard of, unless of course you are a military historian. Which I am, though strictly of the amateur variety.

In Sweden, he is remembered as Gustav Adolf den store, Gustav Adolf the Great. The 6th of November is celebrated as Gustavus Adolphus Day in Sweden, Estonia and Finland, the anniversary of the King's death at the Battle of Lützen, leading a charge. He died at the age of 37, little less than a month shy of his birthday.

He had been King of Sweden since he was 16.

He is called, by some, the first modern general. A master of combined arms and a brilliant administrator as well. Prior to his reign, Sweden was, at best, a regional power. From his reign until the defeat of Charles XII at Poltava by Peter the Great of Russia, Sweden was a major power in Europe.

In those days, when the Swedes marched, Europe trembled.

When I was a lad I was heavily into war gaming. Which I discussed a while back in this post. One of the companies I purchased quite a few games from was SPI, Simulations Publications Inc. One of the concepts they came up with was the "Quad Pack." Four board games using a common set of rules covering a single period of history.

They had a couple of Quad Packs on the American Civil War, I bought both. They had at least one Quad Pack covering the Napoleonic Wars. Yes, I bought that. In those days I was single and had very few expenses. What's more, those games, they were rather addictive.

They had another Quad Pack called "Thirty Years War," a conflict of which I had zero knowledge. So I did a little research, learned a little about that time period. Then I recalled a movie I had seen before joining the Air Force. The Last Valley, starring Michael Caine and Omar Sharif, that movie had been set during the Thirty Years War.

Long story short, I went out and bought that Quad Pack. The four battles were Lützen (1632), Nördlingen, Rocroi (1643) and Freiburg (1644). There were actually two battles of Nördlingen during the Thirty Years War, one in 1634 and the second in 1645. I don't recall which one the Quad Pack covered.

Gustavus Adolphus praying before the battle of Lützen
Artist Unknown - Public Domain (Source)

Battle of Lützen
The Death of King Gustavus Adolphus
Carl Wahlbom - Public Domain (Source)

Rocroi, the last tercio
Augusto Ferrer-Dalmau (CC- Source)

Playing those games generated an interest in the Thirty Years War.

As I mentioned in a previous post, the year 1648 saw the end of the Thirty Years War and the date also marks the rise of the modern nation-state. The Thirty Years War also marked the beginning of modern warfare. In essence, the warfare of the Middle Ages was at an end, modern war, the mass wars which killed so many thousands in the centuries to come, had begun.
The Thirty Years' War saw the devastation of entire regions, with famine and disease significantly decreasing the population of the German and Italian states, the Kingdom of Bohemia, and the Low Countries. The war also bankrupted most of the combatant powers. Both mercenaries and soldiers in armies were expected to fund themselves by looting or extorting tribute, which imposed severe hardships on the inhabitants of occupied territories. W
The Spanish army was also a power heading into the war, their tercios were built around a corps of professional soldiers. The formation (which on paper had a strength of 3000) consisted of pikemen, swordsmen and arquebusiers or musketeers.

Arquebus firing during the Geneva Escalade of 2009
Photograph by Rama, Wikimedia Commons, Cc-by-sa-2.0-fr
Musketeer from the Swedish Altblau regiment (1624–1650) with musket and bardiche (long poleaxe)
Photograph by Michal Maňas 
, Wikimedia Commons, Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.5

One thing that is worth noting in the picture of the arquebusier is that he is being protected by pikemen. The arquebus and the old muskets of the time took quite a while to load. While they were loading their weapons, these men were very vulnerable to cavalry or really just anybody with an edged weapon. So the formation had pikemen.

Until the bayonet was invented (which wasn't common until after the Thirty Years War) the pike was a major component of a fighting formation. Like the Spanish tercio.

The tercio had a block of pikemen at the center of the formation, a formation that Alexander the Great would recognize. At the corners or along the sides were blocks of arquebusiers. They provided the fire, the pikemen the shock. Surprisingly those blocks of pikemen maneuvered pretty well for such a seemingly unwieldy looking grouping.


The Siege of Breda in 1624 by Jacques Callot, showing the tercios of the Army of Flanders.
(Public Domain)
Artillery at the beginning of the period was nearly immovable. The guns would be positioned on the field prior to a battle. Hopefully where they would be useful. Moving them after the battle started was difficult as the cannon were so heavy. One of Gustavus Adolphus' innovations was to lighten the cannon so that they could be moved once battle was joined.

Another somewhat unusual feature of the time was how cavalry was used.
The caracole or caracol (from the Spanish caracol - "snail") is a turning maneuver on horseback in dressage and, previously, in military tactics.

In dressage, riders execute a caracole as a single half turn, either to the left or to the right. The military caracole as it is usually understood today developed in the mid-16th century in an attempt to integrate gunpowder weapons into cavalry tactics. Equipped with one or two wheellock pistols, cavalrymen would advance on their target at less than a gallop in formation as deep as 12 ranks. As each rank came into range, the soldiers would turn their mount slightly to one side, discharge one pistol, then turn slightly to the other side to discharge the other pistol at their target. Since this involved presenting an almost immobile target to the enemy infantry for some time, the temptation must have been strong to fire the weapons without taking an accurate aim. The horsemen then retired to the back of the formation to reload, and then repeat the manoeuvre. The tactic was accompanied by the increasing popularity of the German Reiter in Western armies from about 1540.

The caracole was a tactic very much criticized by military historians who didn't fully understand its use, especially Charles Oman. The caracole was developed as a light cavalry tactic to be used in combination with the fully armoured lancers that made up the heavy cavalry in those times. Pistoleers were to disrupt infantry with their rolling fire, preparing the ground for the heavy cavalry to deliver a decisive charge. This tactic was successfully implemented, for instance, at the battle of Pinkie Cleugh.
Some historians after Michael Roberts associate the demise of the caracole with the name of Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden. Certainly he regarded the technique as fairly useless, and ordered cavalry under Swedish command not to use the caracole; instead, he required them to charge aggressively like their Polish-Lithuanian opponents. However, there is plenty of evidence that the caracole was falling out of use by the 1580s at the latest. Henry IV's Huguenot cavalry and Dutch cuirassiers were good examples of cavalry units that abandoned the caracole early on — if they ever used it at all. W
An interesting time period in warfare. Bloody and brutal. Dominated by a number of "great captains" in addition to Gustavus Adolphus. We shall meet more of them in due time.

The English Civil War also occurred near the end of the Thirty Years War. Think Oliver Cromwell and Charles I of England. Cavaliers and Roundheads. Another event I plan on covering, eventually.

Good movie too.


Spanish Inquisition?

No doubt I'll get to that one of these days.

History, it's a hobby. It's a passion.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Any pilot should fly a Spitfire at least once...

A preserved PR Mk XI Spitfire (PL965) in PRU Blue (2008)
Photo by Adrian Pingstone (Arpingstone) - Own work.
Licensed under Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons - Source
The other day I noted that I had turned off "Any Mouse" (anonymous) comments on the blog. I remember doing that a while back as it seemed to let a number of annoying things to occur in the comments. I thought about it and decided to allow those type comments again.

Okay, what does that have to do with that reconnaissance Spitfire in the lead photo?

In this post the other day I made the following statements as regards the Spitfire's range versus the Mustang's range...
Both are solid designs, the P-51 perhaps a bit better as regards armament and certainly far superior in range.
No Spitfire would fly to Berlin and back. Many a Mustang did.
Well yes and no...

There were Spitfires that could fly to Berlin and back. An anonymous reader sent me a link to the following YouTube video.

A great story.


Yup, Lieutenant John Blythe flew his reconnaissance Spitfire to Berlin and back. So it was do-able.

Okay, okay so reconnaissance Spitfires are not going to escort B-17s to Berlin and back, like the P-51 did. But hey, someone had to take pictures of the targets, before and after.

They were unarmed but man oh man, trying to take on a Spitfire, armed or otherwise, isn't for the unskilled. No sir.

Good thing I allowed anonymous commenters again, isn't it?

Heh. I stand corrected.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

So How Goes Your Day?

Bauernrauferei beim Kartenspiel
Adriaen Brouwer (Public Domain)
Woke up around 0300. Sounded like someone was playing a fire hose back and forth against the side of the house.

Nope, just the rain. (Heavy and driving it was!)

Could not get back to sleep. Gave up at 05oo and had coffee. Noticed that the weekly Tuna post was non-existent. Activated the TUESDAY EMERGENCY POST. (It's in the Dash-One, I had no choice, it's a bold-faced item. FWIW, I heard from Tuna, he's fine, just busier than a one-armed paper hanger. How many people even know what that is?)

Finished coffee, then went to shave, thereby confusing our felines who wondered why I was not feeding them. Now they think I'm an asshole. (Seriously breakfast is at 0630, not when I get up...)

Stopped on the way to work to get fuel. The new kid inside activated the pump before I paid, or presented plastic. Filled the tank. Wondered why I had to go inside to pay.

New kid.

Driving onto The Island got passed by three assholes in pickup trucks shaking their fists at me. Was I going under the speed limit?

Nope. Five mph over.

Got to work, stopped to chat with the cute blonde receptionist at the front desk. A very pleasant young lady, she's worked here for about a month. I want to be welcoming and friendly to the new kids.

Get to my office, note that my fly is unzipped.

Welcoming and friendly transitions to "creepy and weird."

I stopped by the front desk to offer apologies...

"No, I didn't even notice..."

Old fart apologizes to young lady for walking around with his pants unzipped.

Nah, not creepy at all.

Finally get to my lab. My computer system manages to crash twice before locking me out totally.

After three hours at work, I am up and running, my computer is up and running. Why does it feel like a Monday?

So how goes your day?

Mine?

Don't ask...

Whoa! Where is Tuna? (TUESDAY EMERGENCY POST)

S-3A Viking emergency landing USS Abraham Lincoln (CVN-72) US Navy photo by PH3 Eric Hayhurst
If you're reading this post, then what has happened is that I was expecting a Tuesday Tuna post and it didn't happen.

This is what happens when one becomes complacent and somewhat lazy.

Tuna always posts on Tuesdays, I said.

Why bother to have something prepared in case Tuna doesn't have a Tuesday post, I asked myself.

Sure, let's assume that he's going to post something even though I told him in the beginning that he could post whenever he felt like it. No pressure, I said. Don't feel obligated to post, I said.

So I got complacent.


I got lazy.

Now I need to scramble to get something up before the morning is done.

Good thing I had this "emergency post" all ready to go.

Now I better get to work on tomorrow's post...


Blogging is hard.

Monday, April 20, 2015

Witchcraft


So, there I was…..*  Holy Saturday, in my workshop when I hear the sound of an airplane rapidly approaching.  
My personal sawdust factory, lawn mowing and hay hauling vehicle and tennis ball chasing canine

I rush outside in time to see a P-51C pass overhead.  By the time I get my phone, all I get is a dot in the sky.  My Son and Daughter-in-Law arrive shortly thereafter and we head to the airport to see what’s what.  But, you know all that, because you read last week’s post about the B-17 “Nine O Nine”.  

The B-17 is owned and operated by the Collings Foundation along with several other historic aircraft, including the aforementioned Mustang (which actually is a TP-51C) and the subject of today’s post the B-24J.  All three are parked on the ramp when we arrive at the airport.

We tour the B-17 first, primarily because it was located closest to the entrance.  I had two main impressions about the aircraft.  First, that it felt rugged, that it could sustain damage and return home.  It could and did.  Second, the aircraft was cramped, much smaller inside than it looked like from the outside.  While I am a bit plus sized now, even in my fighting days, the B-17 had spaces I’d have had a hard time getting in.

We spent a considerable period poking around and finally exited out the rear hatch. 

We decided the next aircraft to visit would be the B-24. 

This particular B-24 had been built in Fort Worth and transferred to the Royal Air Force participating in combat from India.  Abandoned by the British after the war, the Indian Air Force restored it to operational capability and used it until 1968.  It was eventually decommissioned then recovered, restored and now represents a B-24 named Witchcraft. 
The original Witchcraft
Source: Flickr
 
I’ll leave it to the Collings Foundation literature to detail that bomber’s history.

"The history of “Witchcraft” is a story that legends are made from. The original “Witchcraft” was produced as a B-24H, built by Ford at the famous Willow Run, MI plant in 1944. It was delivered to the 467th in Wendover, Utah and initially assigned to Second Lieutenant George W. Reed and his crew who flew the aircraft to England. “Witchcraft” safely arrived with her crew at Station 145 in Rackheath, England on March 19th, 1944, after a 20-day flight over the Atlantic. The aircraft and crew began their combat service on April 10th, 1944, flying the first combat mission of the 467th Bomb Group. Over the next year “Witchcraft” flew an incredible 130 combat missions with various crews. “Witchcraft” was never once turned back while on a mission, and never had any crewmen injured or killed. Her last mission was flown on April 25th, 1945 which also was the last mission flown by the 467th Bomb Group. “…Witchcraft” was there at the beginning and at the end.” After the war, she was returned to the United States and like many other B-24’s, was scrapped on October 3rd, 1945 at the surplus depot in Altus, Oklahoma."
So, an impressive history both in actuality (having flown operationally for almost 25 years) as well as the bomber it represents.  Well worthy of further exploration although I think "a 20 day flight" would have set some endurance records.  Ever the grammar nazi!

Compared to the interior spaces of the B-17, and with one exception, the Liberator felt spacious. My impression, however, was that it wasn't as "solid" as the B-17.  Nothing I can put a finger on, just an impression.  Perhaps it was the bomb bay doors.  They rolled up like old time garage doors and looked like you could drop your bombs even if they didn't open.  I don't know.  Just my impression.  Certainly, the original Witchcraft was tough enough to get the job done.


There's that bald guy again.  What's he so fascinated about?
The Bombardier's station had a windshield wiper

Well, in the European theater, I'm sure it helps the accuracy of the bombing if the Bombardier can actually see the target.

Boarding started at the back of the plane
After experiencing the B-17, the Bald Guy is inspecting this one for clearance issues.

Climbing in and the first things I see are the waist guns.  Channelling my inner Murphy (of boarding steps and most recently Great Lake Freighter fame), I immediately man the position and begin searching for Fokkers in Messerschmidts (old joke).


No Fokkers, but there is a hostile looking Ford out there.
After enduring several strange looks from other folks working their way through the plane (ok, maybe the sound effects and radio commentary were a little overboard), we move forward to the ball turret.



Again, my size 10 for relative size.  I don't think it was much bigger, if any, than the one in the B-17.  Not going to pull a Murph here and open it up.  I'd probably still be in there. On to the Bomb Bay.





At least double the size of the B-17, in that there were two separate bays.  Here was also the only place on the Liberator that was smaller than the B-17.  I wold have had to transit 3 of those support beams and  that just wasn't going to happen.  I jumped off the catwalk and walked the length of the bomb bay to move further forward.

Which left us in the front of the airplane.

Since they were getting ready to fly one of their orientation rides ($432 each), the cockpit was closed.  It did look less cramped than the B-17s and had the radioman and flight engineer on their side of the bomb bay which seemed to make more sense to me.

Later in the day, I'm back out in the workshop and I hear the sound of a multi-engine aircraft in the vicinity.  Step out and am treated by this.  

Learned quite a bit while studying up for this post.   There were 18,468 B-24s (including variants) produced for a total cost in today's dollars of $88 Billion.  They operated in all theaters in the war.  While I knew that, it didn't really sink in as there is one mission that pretty much focuses everyone on the Liberator's role in WWII.


Source:www.afhso.af.mil
That, of course, would be the raid on Ploesti.  While in ROTC, we learned about the raid and the attempt to deny the German's Romanian Oil.  Later in SOS, we learned about the execution of the raid, that casualties were high, as well as the fact that there were 5 Medals of Honor awarded, 3 Posthumously. However, I never learned until now, was just how much that mission cost.

178 bombers took off from Benghazi. 16 aborted or crashed. 162 reached targets around Ploesti. 51 were shot down or interned in Turkey. 22 landed at various Allied bases in the Mediterranean. Of the 89 that returned to Benghazi that day, 58 were damaged beyond repair.  Leaving 31 aircraft operationally ready the following day.  17% of their capability. 440 aircrewmen were killed along with another 220 captured or missing. A 37% casualty rate.

The painting above is of a B-24 named "Hell's Wench", piloted by Lt Col Addison Baker.
The lead navigator's plane had crashed, and the backup plane became lost.  Col Baker recognized that and turned a large portion of the formation toward the target area.  In the target area, his aircraft took a AAA hit and started on fire.  He remained in the formation until his bombs were dropped and then maneuvered away from the formation to minimize risk to them.  His B-24 exploded and he and his crews remains were never recovered.  There is a monument to him at the American Military Cemetary in Florence.

His Medal of Honor citation reads:
"For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty in action with the enemy on August 1, 1943. On this date he led his command, the 93d Heavy Bombardment Group, on a daring low-level attack against enemy oil refineries and installations at Ploesti, Rumania. Approaching the target, his aircraft was hit by a large caliber antiaircraft shell, seriously damaged and set on fire. Ignoring the fact he was flying over terrain suitable for safe landing, he refused to jeopardize the mission by breaking up the lead formation and continued unswervingly to lead his group to the target upon which he dropped his bombs with devastating effect. Only then did he leave formation, but his valiant attempts to gain sufficient altitude for the crew to escape by parachute were unavailing and his aircraft crashed in flames after his successful efforts to avoid other planes in formation. By extraordinary flying skill, gallant leadership and intrepidity, Lt. Col. Baker rendered outstanding, distinguished, and valorous service to our Nation."

Yesterday, Sarge posted a great one about community.  People like Col Baker and his crew are the type that populate my community.  Fighter Pilots all,  Shoe Clerks need not apply.**


*SJC

**"There are two types of People in the Air Force, Fighter Pilots and Shoe Clerks.  Both are attitudes not AFSCs."

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Communities

The Joint Service Color Guard advances the colors during the retirement ceremony of Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff
Gen. Henry H. Shelton, at Fort Myer, Va., on Oct. 2, 2001. DoD photo by Helene C. Stikkel. (Released)
Services represented are, from left to right: Army, Army, Army, Marines, Navy, Air Force, Coast Guard, Marines.
Everyone belongs to some sort of community. For some it's the town where they were born, where they went to school and where they now have a home and a job. I suppose that in the large cities, one's community is synonymous with one's neighborhood. I've never really lived in a big city, I've lived near them, but not in them. I do get the concept of the neighborhood.

Having a sense of community is a good thing. While we humans are not a herd beast (regardless of how it seems now and then), we are tribal beings.

Early humans grouped together for both safety and efficiency. I think even Chuck Norris might have had trouble surviving for long out on the Serengeti back in the day. While Mr. Norris is a very skilled and tough fighter, lions are tougher, cheetahs are faster and leopards can climb trees for crying out loud. You think the world is dangerous now?

Try 15,000 BC.

I too belong to a community. Those who've been here a while know of which I speak. The opening photo also provides a clue.

My community, the group I most closely identify with, are those men and women who serve, and who have served, honorably in the Armed Forces of the United States of America.

I served 24 years in the Air Force, my kids have served or serve still in the Navy.

I have friends who served in the Army and friends who served in the Marines.

I think I may know a Coast Guardsman or two. While they aren't in the Department of Defense, they used to chop over to the Navy in wartime. Many of the landing craft which delivered fighting men to the beaches from Peleliu to Normandy were driven by Coast Guardsmen.

I also spent seven and a half years in NATO. I served with Canadians, Germans, Belgians, Dutchmen, Norwegians and Italians.

In my travels I've had the opportunity to associate with the Korean Army and Air Force and certain Highland members of the Royal Army.

All good lads and true.

I count them as members of my community as well.

All these good people are, in a very real sense, my brothers and sisters in arms. We all, at one time in our lives, stepped up, raised our right hands and swore an oath. We swore to defend our country, we swore to uphold the Constitution.

Some say we wrote a blank check to Uncle Sam that we would lay down our lives if necessary.

Trust me, very few of us actually thought that when we were swearing the oath. Though it did linger in the back of one's mind. The ultimate possibility.

When I retired from the Air Force, I actually got to make a speech. I worked on that little ten to fifteen minute speech for a few days. 
After all, how many times does one get to retire from the military? Once. (I checked.)

As I worked on that speech I thought about a lot of things. Mostly I thought about the people I had served with and their families. Not just the families who were with us as we traveled like nomads from assignment to assignment.

There were also the families back home. Back at the place we came from. We all have to come from somewhere. For most of us it's a home with a Mom and a Dad, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, grandparents and cousins. If you're lucky those folks cared about you and worried about you while you were out in the world, doing your military job.

In the "old days" those folks would also write letters to you. Letters which were looked forward to, letters which were read over and over and cherished.

Sigh, no one writes letters anymore.

On the other hand, though my military days are over, I'm now one of those "old folks back home." Both daughters are still on active duty and while we don't send letters, it's a pretty big deal getting an e-mail from them when they're out at sea.

When my son was still serving, he would start each e-mail home pretty much the same way. After his ship had been at sea for a few days, we'd get the "the Battle of Norfolk is over, the real mission begins..." e-mail. Seems that being in port in Norfolk can be a colossal pain in the stern. I've had a few other friends mention that as well.

I've not heard similar complaints regarding Sandy Eggo. Oh yeah, Norfolk is virtually within spitting distance of the Pentagon. Sandy Eggo has some elbow room. Three thousand miles of elbow room.

Unlike some in my community I don't make a big deal about serving, it's just something I did. I enjoyed it, I somewhat pity those who didn't have the opportunity to serve. But I don't look down on anyone for not having served.

Like I mentioned in my speech, a military by itself is pretty meaningless. Without something to protect and defend, what's the point?

People need to grow the crops, build the machines, maintain the highways and other facets of the infrastructure. Without the good folks of America doing their jobs and paying their taxes, I would have had no equipment, no uniform, no place to lay my head at night, no food and no pay.

Everyone has their role in life. Everyone has their job.

All who contribute are important. All who contribute are needed.

So that's my community. I'm proud of it. I'm proud that my children chose to join it.

But it isn't for everyone, as long as you can find your place in this world, contribute to your community and those dependent on it, you have my respect.*

And my gratitude.



*The original wording said "can contribute," Juvat is right (see his comment), so I dropped the "can."

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Iconic Aircraft

Spitfire Mk Vb #AB910, built in 1941, she is painted in the colors of the Polish 303 Squadron;
the Donald Duck symbol is the personal logo of Squadron Leader Jan Zumbach.

Photo by Adrian Pingstone (Arpingstone) - Own Work. (Source)
Those of you who have been following the blog for a while will know of my absolute love for the Supermarine Spitfire and all of its lovely variants. Some of you have taken me to task for this love.

"What about the P-51 Mustang?" they would ask. How could I possibly favor the British Spitfire over the P-51 Mustang? Well, that's a tough question.


Both are beautiful aircraft, deadly in the hands of a skilled pilot as many foes discovered during the years when World War Two raged. Both are solid designs, the P-51 perhaps a bit better as regards armament and certainly far superior in range.

No Spitfire would fly to Berlin and back. Many a Mustang did.

I do recall that the P-51 started out as a bit of a dog. (Hush now. It's true, read your history.) We gave (sold?) them to the Brits and it was they, our cousins across the pond, who had the inspiration to mount in that lovely airframe the engine they used for their own top of the line fighter.

The Rolls Royce Merlin.

"Rolls-Royce Merlin"
Photo by JAW at English Wikipedia - Own work. CC

So while I do have a deep and abiding affection for the magnificent P-51 Mustang (and all it's lovely variants), my first love is that elliptical-winged beauty designed by Mr. Mitchell.

The Spitfire.


Recently a comrade-in-arms of mine posted a video of an event which took place at Duxford back in 2010. A flyby of Spitfires in squadron strength.

Sixteen Spitfires, in formation, a sight seldom seen since the late summer and early fall of 1940. When a relative handful of brave young men in their Spitfires and Hurricanes stood tall against the might of the Deutsches Luftwaffe.

And won.


I love the sound of that Merlin engine, regardless of which aircraft it's mounted in!