Stuka Attack

The sun had not yet risen over the rolling foothills, but a deep orange glow blanketed the countryside. Small lakes reflected the tranquility of the early morning sky, their surfaces smooth as glass. It was a perfect picture, as if it had been painted by the most skilled artist.

Lieutenant Erich Ulmann gazed out the canopy of his Ju-87 at the landscape passing below. Only a few hundred feet off the ground, he was able to see the Polish countryside in great detail. Tiny houses dotted the green land, windmills spinning lazily in the morning air. Erich watched as a group of deer paused in their grazing to look up at the sound coming from the sky above them.

“Hold formation, five minutes out.” A crackling voice in his headset broke the serenity of the moment. Erich looked out the left side of the cockpit and waved an acknowledgement to the plane beside him.

“Keep your eyes peeled Fred.” The early morning air was still cold enough for Erich to see his breath as he spoke to the gunner sitting behind him. He heard the distinct sound of the guns swiveling as his rear-facing gunner tested their mobility.

Erich turned in his cockpit to take one last look at the formation. Over the gull-wings of his plane he could see the rest of the squadron, forty-five other Stukas all flying tightly together. They were to provide close-air support for the 5th Panzer Division racing across the Polish border. Intelligence reports had maintained that the Polish defenses would be no match for the superior German forces, but that did little to quell the anxiety in Erich’s stomach.

This was his first time in combat, indeed the first time for nearly every man in the squadron. Shooting at stationary targets was one thing, but how would he fair when those targets began shooting back?

He swallowed hard, trying to settle his fears.

“There they are.” The squadron leader came over the radio again.

Erich watched as tiny black objects materialized into tanks as his plane drew closer to them. They were panzers, Germany’s iron fist, designed to punch a hole straight through any defense that might stand in their way. Infantry sat atop each tank or marched directly beside them, their grey uniforms looking almost black in the morning sky. Several men waved and cheered emphatically as the Stukas passed overhead. The lead plane tipped a wing to the men, before the squadron continued on.

“What do you say we clear a path for our boys?” The excitement in the squadron leader’s voice was clear, even over the radio. Just coming into view was a column of vehicles, frantically trying to form some kind of defensive position. Behind them, a series of gun batteries had been set up, some aiming at ground level, others pointed toward the sky. Hundreds of men were scattering between the vehicles and guns, motioning to the approaching planes.

With a sharp battle cry, the squadron leader dropped his plane’s nose toward the ground and disappeared from view. Taking a deep breath, Erich pushed the control stick forward. His Stuka responded immediately. The horizon suddenly shifted and Erich felt the strange sensation of weightlessness. The ground was rushing up to him as his plane continued its steep dive. He focused his sights on a single tank, rapidly becoming more detailed as he closed in. Above the roar of his engine, Erich could hear the wailing sound emanating from the siren attached to the undercarriage of his plane. The sound increased to an almost deafening pitch as the dive gained speed.

Erich suddenly became aware of muzzle flashes coming from the vehicles and troops on the ground. Tracers streaked through the air all around the Stukas, but still the squadron continued its dive. Erich could feel his heart pounding in his ears, could feel the pressure of the dive pushing him back in his seat. He was almost on top of the tank now and still diving.

“Release!” The word came into his headset as a shout just as a red light flashed on his instrument panel. Instinctively, Erich pressed the button dropping the bomb carried under his plane. The Stuka’s dive brakes automatically kicked in, slowing the plane down and leveling it out. Erich cranked back and to the right on the control stick.

The morning sky was lit up by the flash of explosions. As his plane leveled out, Erich turned to watch the tank he had targeted erupt in flames. All around him the other members of his squadron were leveling out from their dives and peeling off to engage more targets with their cannons.

Erich felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had survived his first combat bombing mission. With a heightened sense of invincibility, he pulled his Stuka around for another pass at the enemy.

This time he approached at a much lower level. Smoke was billowing skyward from the destroyed vehicles, making it difficult to make out those still in use. Beside him, Stukas swooped down like birds of prey, picking off any resistance they saw.

Movement caught his attention as a tank rolled out from behind a cloud of black smoke. Atop the tank a soldier was manning the machine gun, firing wildly at the attacking planes. Erich leveled his plane out and took aim. He pressed the trigger, squeezing out a short burst of armor-piercing rounds. The tracers carved a path in the trampled grass, kicking up clouds of dirt. The tank gunner, seeing the closeness of the fire, swung his machine gun around to aim at Erich’s rapidly approaching plane.

Just as the muzzle flashed, Erich let off another burst of gunfire. He walked the tracers along the ground, then up the side of the tank. Fire from the tank’s machine gun whizzed past the canopy, and Erich tried to lower himself slightly in his seat.

Releasing the trigger, Erich watched the last of his burst rip into the tank. The gunner on top dropped down inside, hit by bullets or just taking cover Erich was unsure. He passed over the tank then turned sharply to the left to survey the damage.

A wisp of smoke was rising from the turret of the tank, gradually increasing in thickness. Suddenly a shower of sparks erupted from inside. As Erich watched, the hatch flew open and three men scrambled from inside the steel hulk. They hit the ground running, one man clutching his arm at his side and limping clear. Erich circled the field, looking for anymore targets. Burning vehicles and still bodies were all he could find. A few soldiers had made it into the treeline at the edge of the field, but none remained to engage the squadron.

“Job well-done boys,” the voice crackled over the radio. “The panzer generals will be upset that we didn’t leave anyone for them to fight!” The squadron leader pulled his plane back up to higher altitude. “Right, let’s head back.”

Erich and the rest of the squadron reformed over the battlefield. As they flew back over their advancing troops, Erich could not help thinking how easy it had been. He felt unstoppable.

“If it’s going to be like this,” he said to his gunner, “we’ll all be heroes.”