The Great World War 1914–1945: 1. Lightning Strikes Twice

A predecessor from the Great War, Captain Frederick Libby, was of the same opinion, claiming that, ‘Aerial gunnery is ninety per cent instinct and ten per cent aim.’

The truly successful fighter pilot therefore combined situational awareness with good judgement of distance and an ability to aim his guns to best effect. Possessing above average flying ability was helpful, but not essential. No matter how skilled a shot, fighter pilots nevertheless required more than all this. Their equipment, training and tactics also had a major role to play.

The development of air fighting in the Great War naturally demanded the consideration of both strategy and tactics. On the strategic level, the policies developed by the Allies, particularly the Royal Flying Corps, have received more attention than those of the German air service, while the tactical axioms developed by men such as Manfred Von Richthofen, Oswald Boelcke and Max Immelmann have been regarded more highly than those of the Allies. This is slightly misleading, as any study of what might be generically called ‘pithy quotes by fighter pilots’ from either World War demonstrates that there were master tacticians on both sides. The crucial point to be made is that the essential rules of air fighting remained very similar in both conflicts; furthermore, there were not a great many of them. Thus from the First World War we have Manfred Von Richthofen noting ‘the aggressive spirit, the offensive, is the chief thing everywhere in war and the air is no exception’; while a whole conflict later, ‘Johnnie’ Johnson stressed that ‘the only proper defence is offence.’

Although this gives the impression that the tactical development of the air forces progressed on similar lines, the RAF entered the Second World War at a tactical disadvantage.

The prescribed methods of flying and fighting laid down by Fighter Command manuals and routine orders predicated the use of either the three-aircraft section (or ‘vic’) and the line astern of four machines, with different types of attack profile being employed against fighters and bombers. The Luftwaffe, on the other hand, utilising its experience in the Spanish Civil War, adopted the more flexible ‘schwarme’ or ‘finger four’. This formation, named in its English translation after the position of the fingers of a hand laid flat on a table to demonstrate the rough positioning of the aircraft within it, developed the notion of the ‘wingman’. The aircraft in the four could, and did, divide into two sections, with each pilot certain that he was covered by his wingman. Although the pairs of aircraft usually had a designated (or de facto) lead and wing, if the wingman found himself engaged in a fight, he could usually rely upon his section lead to follow him, watching for any enemy aircraft that might try to engage. In spite of the fact that the ‘finger four’ was rapidly proven to be more effective than either the ‘vic’ or line astern, British pilots found that it was difficult to change a tactical system that had been carefully built up and protected by the entrenched bureaucracy of the inter-war years. This caused difficulties. The two wingmen in the ‘vic’ had to spend most of their time keeping formation, giving them little time to scan the sky for enemy aircraft, while the line astern simply enabled the enemy to work their way along the line.

Most RAF units circumvented the problem of tactical ossification in high command by ignoring the official way of doing things and using the best method, although this could lead to trouble from higher authority if discovered.

That the German method was far better is beyond doubt: the three-aircraft section left one of the aircraft without any cover for his rear quarter. When the problem of hidebound command was overcome – partly through the promotion of combat-experienced flyers to staff and command positions – the RAF was finally able to put the ‘finger four’ to good effect.

In a replication of the First World War, the Luftwaffe began to move towards defensive operations over occupied territory while the Allies took the war to them. This was, of course, first meant to be done through the use of bombers, but when it became apparent that the unescorted bomber was vulnerable, the emphasis of the offensive was transferred to the fighter arm. Thus, strategy laid down in 1916 re-emerged, putting the fighter pilot in the vanguard of aerial operations, even though pre-Second World War theory had given prominence to the bomber. The offensive use of fighters owes most to the thoughts of Marshal of the Royal Air Force Viscount Trenchard (in 1916, a Brigadier-General). Trenchard contended that:

‘The moral effect produced by a hostile aeroplane is… out of all proportion to the damage which it can inflict.

The mere presence of a hostile machine in the air inspires those on the ground with exaggerated forebodings with regard to what a machine is capable of doing.

The sound policy then which should guide all warfare in the air would seem to be this: to exploit this moral effect of the aeroplane, but not to let him exploit it on ourselves. Now this can only be done by attacking and continuing to attack.’

Furthermore, Trenchard argued that:

‘…An aeroplane is an offensive and not a defensive weapon. Owing to the unlimited space in the air… it is impossible for aeroplanes to prevent hostile aircraft from crossing the line if they have the initiative and determination to do so.’

For the remainder of the war, the British more than any other air service remained wedded to the doctrine of the offensive. The policy was designed to ensure that the RFC’s army co-operation machines could operate without interference from the enemy; the safest means of doing this was to keep the enemy well behind the front lines. The disparity in losses between fighters and army co-operation machines suggests that the offensive policy worked, but it was extremely costly. Additionally, there were instances of patrols sent out over enemy lines and not meeting any opposition, but suffering losses as a result of mechanical failure or anti-aircraft fire.

Arthur Gould Lee, an RFC veteran, felt that Trenchard viewed the offensive in terms of gaining territory:

‘…for a British plane to be one mile across the trenches was offensive: for it to be ten miles across was more offensive… While we thus dissipated our strength, more often than not merely beating the empty air, the Germans… concentrated forces superior in numbers or equipment and engaged our scattered line patrols in turn, and our Distant Offensive Patrols as and when it suited them. The result was that in 1917, British air losses were at times nearly four times as great as the German.’

The Germans appeared to remain content to engage the RFC over their own lines, and never adopted offensive operations on the same scale. Of Manfred Von Richthofen’s 80 credited victories, 62 were destroyed over German lines or No Man’s Land. RFC ‘aces’ obtained most, if not all, of their ‘kills’ well over enemy territory.

The Great War first demonstrated a point that remained true in the Second World War, namely that the defensive fighter force had a number of advantages when compared to an air force pursuing an offensive. Pilots who were shot down on the defending side were able to crash land or (in the later conflict) parachute to safety on friendly territory, while the pilot from the attacking side who was forced down could look forward only to captivity or attempts to evade – which were rarely successful. In addition, the attacking force was compelled to consider its fuel state. In the case of the Battle of Britain, the Luftwaffe’s efforts were greatly hampered by the fact that the Me109 was unable to remain over Britain for long because of lack of fuel reserves. British fighters, notably the Spitfire and the Hurricane, were similarly ‘short-legged’. Nonetheless, this did not prevent the British from employing the fighter offensive after the threat of a German invasion of Britain had reduced. ‘Johnnie’ Johnson, as has been mentioned, was emphatic upon the value of offensive action, but he was talking about air combat. His views on the RAF’s offensive against German-occupied territory in 1941 and 1942 were less than enthusiastic:

‘We began to carry out low-level flights over France. These operations were known by the code name Rhubarb. The idea was to take full advantage of low cloud and poor visibility and slip sections of Spitfires across the coast and then let down below the cloud to search for opportunity targets, rolling stock, locomotives, aircraft on the ground, staff cars, enemy troops and the like…

…I loathed these Rhubarbs with a dark hatred. Apart from the flak, the hazards of making a let-down over unknown territory and with no accurate knowledge of the cloud base seemed far too great a risk for the damage we inflicted.’

It is hard to disagree with Johnson, since the effect of the operations was relatively small, and did nothing to compensate for the losses of experienced pilots. The famed Robert Stanford Tuck and Douglas Bader were both shot down and captured during the course of the offensive, while slightly less well-known ‘aces’ such as Howard Blatchford, John Gillan, Eric Lock and Paddy Finucane were all killed.

This is not to say that the use of fighters in an offensive role was without any value. Once the United States Army Air Force (USAAF) was equipped with long-range fighter aircraft, it was able to carry the war deep into Germany itself, escorting bombers and inflicting attrition upon the enemy fighter force. Among other things, this prevented the Luftwaffe from opposing the D-Day landings in great force, and began to remove experienced pilots from the fray. Indeed, Noble Frankland suggests that the use of long-range fighters over Germany was vital in winning the air war in Europe.

Even though such strategic developments were of obvious importance, the tactical application of fighters in attempting to achieve these aims remained vital. Although the RAF had learned much about the use of the ‘finger four’ from encountering the Germans, this only applied to small groups of aircraft. Again, in a direct parallel with the First World War (although on a larger scale), pilots found that they were engaged in air battles involving increasing numbers of machines. The RAF had made attempts to use large formations during the Battle of Britain, most notably the famous ‘Big Wing’ led by Douglas Bader. This was a novelty for the RAF, for it had never previously attempted to use large formations of aircraft in a defensive situation. Although the German Spring Offensives of March-June 1918 had suffered greatly from air attack, actual air combat operations had been a secondary concern for the defenders. A further difference was the manner in which defensive air-to-air operations were conducted: in the Great War, the majority of combats were over enemy lines. During the Battle of Britain, then later the Battle for Malta, fighters worked almost exclusively over their own territory, without attempting to carry the war to the enemy.

While the gaining of air superiority was crucial, once won, the fighter force could have found itself with little to do. This was not the case, as fighter pilots found themselves engaged in ground-attack operations. The qualities of the fighter aircraft – speed, manoeuvrability and firepower – made it admirably suitable for the risky work of attacking ground forces. The RFC was arguably the first air service to make major use of its fighter aircraft for ground-attack, preferring them to developing machines specifically designed for such a role. Initially, pilots indulged in freelance operations as they were returning from patrols, but at the Battle of Arras in April 1917 the first co-ordinated operational orders for air support were issued. A combination of bad weather and inexperience meant that the missions did not achieve all that they might have done, but they showed great promise. At Third Ypres in July, the concept was proven to be effective, and came to the fore at the Battle of Cambrai at the end of the year. This had implications for a number of fighter pilots, who found themselves training for operations quite unlike any they had conducted before. Notable amongst them was Arthur Gould Lee of Number 46 Squadron. On 9 November, Gould Lee recorded his flying for that day:

‘My other flying was a low cross-country and bomb-dropping practice. We were actually ordered to do the low-level flight, which normally is officially frowned on. Our machines have been fitted with racks under the fuselage to carry four 20lb bombs, and a target has been laid out… I wonder what’s afoot?’

This practice continued, until on 17 November he wrote home:

‘Over the past four days we’ve been hard at it practising bomb-dropping… I found it surprisingly easy to get close results [with bombs], in fact mine were the best in the squadron… I hope this unexpected skill doesn’t land me any awkward jobs!’

This cheerfulness masked his real concerns:

‘Something unpleasant is certainly brewing. We all feel it. First 3 and 46 [Squadrons] both getting Camels in such a hurry. Then this intensive practice in low bombing and low… flying… Another squadron, 84, with SE 5a’s under Major [Sholto] Douglas has arrived at the other end of the aerodrome… Every village in the forward zone is crowded with troops… obviously a big push is coming any time now.’

The attack at Cambrai was launched on 20 November. Gould Lee was sent to attack enemy artillery batteries in Lateau Wood. His recollections of the incident were understandably vivid:

‘The batteries below are firing producing more smoke… there we are, the three of us whirling blindly around at 50–100 feet, all but colliding, being shot at from below and trying to place bombs accurately… In a sharp turn, I saw a bunch of guns right in line for attack, so dived at 45 degrees and released all four bombs… One fell between two guns, the rest a few yards away… I dive at another group of guns, giving them 100 rounds. See a machine-gun blazing at me, swing on to that, one short burst and he stops firing… A long column of artillery limbers… I zoom [climb] then switchback along the column spraying short bursts in each little dive.’

Gould Lee then became hopelessly lost, and landed alongside some men in a field, hoping to discover his location. Unfortunately, the men were German. He took off swiftly, and machine-gunned them:

‘I swung over, dived and let them have it. Some horses and men tumbled, the rest scarpered. I went down the sunken road they’d come from. It was full of horsed traffic. I dived on them and let them have it too, and saw men falling off stampeding horses. My dive carried me on to another road, with a column of marching troops. As I fired, they bumped into one another, then broke into the side fields.’

Gould Lee recorded that the latter part of his attacks were easy, as there was no ground fire. This was unusual, and was a significant difference from the experiences of pilots in the Second World War, when there almost always seemed to be some retaliation from the ground. Gould Lee in fact found returning to base most difficult, as his compass failed and he could not navigate in the appalling weather. As a result he had to forced-land. The strain of ground-attack began to tell on his nerves. By 28 November his strain showed in his reference to the work as a ‘gardening spree’. His diary entry for the next day recorded:

‘This trench-strafing is all becoming rather a strain. In air fighting, chance is only one of the factors. But trench-strafing is all chance, no matter how skilled you are. To make sure of your target you have to expose yourself to the concentrated fire of dozens of machine-guns and hundreds of rifles… Of course, strafing behind the lines is different, the odds against you aren’t nearly so great.’

Although trench-strafing of German troops may have enhanced the morale of British infantry, it did nothing for the morale of the pilots. Attacks behind the lines, on the other hand, were usually a complete success, causing panic and confusion, even if they did not cause any injury to the enemy. The emphasis on trench-strafing saw aircraft casualties at Cambrai average 30 per cent. This could not be sustained, but did not dissuade the RFC from continuing such operations, which, in fact, made a substantial contribution to halting the German Spring Offensives of 1918, and in battles during the Hundred Days that brought the war to an end. By this time, air superiority was largely in the hand of the Allies, with the exception of a final German challenge in September. As a result, more ground attack work was carried out, and RAF fighter squadrons became highly proficient in the role. Number 73 Squadron, equipped with Sopwith Camels, specialised in attacking anti-tank guns, and did much to reduce the effectiveness of German field artillery pieces, which otherwise caused the advancing armour considerable difficulties.

Having seen the effectiveness of ground-attack operations, the German armed services perfected air-ground co-operation after the Luftwaffe was formed, while the Royal Air Force forgot all the lessons learned. It was compelled to re-learn them in the Western Desert in 1941, again resorting to the use of fighter aircraft. The capability of virtually all fighters to carry bombs and later rocket projectiles was exploited to the full, and by 1945 the Spitfires of 2nd Tactical Air Force were being used as dive-bombers. The most famous ground-attack aircraft in British service at this time, the Hawker Typhoon, originated as a fighter, and was re-roled when it proved inadequate at higher altitudes. Its qualities of speed, firepower and toughness meant that it proved almost ideal for the job. The fame that the type won perhaps disguises the fact that, by 1945, the gaining of air superiority by the Allies meant that virtually all fighter types could be spared for ground-support operations and armed reconnaissance. Such work, however, was made extremely dangerous by the likelihood of liberal amounts of flak.

This is vividly recalled by many RAF fighter pilots, especially those who flew the Hawker Tempest. A development of the Typhoon, the little-known Tempest was one of the best fighter aircraft of the war at medium to low altitudes, and was a stable gun-platform. Although it did not normally carry bombs or rocket projectiles, it was still an ideal tool for ground-attack operations. This meant that the pilots regularly encountered heavy flak, as the former commanding officer of 486 Squadron, C. J. ‘Jimmy’ Sheddan, noted when recalling an incident early in 1945:

‘Towards the end of the war trains often had flak carriages spaced throughout their entire length and it does nothing for your nerves when your aircraft seems surrounded by tracer and you know that for every one you can see there is at least four that are invisible. The Germans also used heavily armed trains as flak traps. One of my worst moments was when [Squadron Leader Warren] “Smokey” Schrader drew my attention to a train which I was trying hard not to see, as I knew in my heart that it was a plant – too much smoke, too little movement… I was between the devil and the deep blue sea. I had been at this game for longer than I cared to remember and knew that this was one train that I should keep away from, but with Smokey… watching and waiting for my decision, I just had to take the risk and attack.

No sooner had I committed myself then all hell broke loose as the flak came showering up in waves. Crunch! About a foot of the end of my port wing folded over. Now I was in real trouble! Any sudden change of direction and that wing would stall, causing a spin. Down below was what looked like a train full of guns and all firing at a single aircraft… There was no way that my plane should have passed through the wall of lead without receiving further damage. However, I survived – just!’

It was not only RAF pilots who suffered from this. One of the leading exponents of the P-47 Thunderbolt, Francis Gabreski (28 victories), was shot down when attacking ground targets, as were a number of other highly experienced men. Just as in the First World War, skill and experience could do little to save them from a well-aimed – or even a lucky – burst of flak. The random nature of ground-attack operations meant that they were often disliked intensely by fighter pilots. Pilots knew that, in aerial combat, skill, judgement and experience could greatly increase their chances of survival, whereas flak did not discriminate between good or bad flying. By 1945 all sides had the ability to make ground-attack a decidedly hazardous mission for participants. The most obvious example of this occurred on New Year’s Day 1945 with ‘Operation Bodenplatte’, the Luftwaffe’s attempt to cripple the Allied air forces on the ground. The operation saw the use of a large number of fighters, with somewhere between 700 and 800 aircraft being used. Although the mission saw the destruction of nearly 200 Allied aircraft, ‘Bodenplatte’ was a disaster for the Luftwaffe. Unbriefed German flak gunners shot down a number of their own aircraft as they headed to and from the lines, and the Allies were not caught totally by surprise, as some aircraft were already airborne. At the end of the operation, an estimated 300 German aircraft had been lost, along with over 230 of the pilots.

This was perhaps the most extreme example of a fighter force suffering from its employment for ground-attack. The Luftwaffe especially was unable to sustain such losses since its fighter pilots were in almost constant action. Unlike the Allies, where pilots served an operational tour and were then sent to a second-line posting, German fighter pilots continued to fly until they were shot down and either killed or wounded badly enough to ground them. While this system meant that German pilots gained immense amounts of operational experience and scored enormous victory tallies, it also ensured that they became fatigued and less effective. Furthermore, they were generally unable to pass their experience on to new pilots at training schools. Although Allied pilots frequently felt that teaching new recruits how to fly and fight could hardly be described as a ‘rest tour’, they were at least able to pass on some of their experience (even if ‘Johnnie’ Johnson was moved to note that ‘the right senior officer was not present’ to explain how to win at air combat

). Thus the Germans were forced to throw inexperienced pilots into battle, where they proved to be hugely vulnerable to marauding American escort fighters. The pilots of the latter were becoming progressively more experienced, and as the quality of their opponents decreased, they were less likely to be shot down themselves. As Adolf Galland was moved to remark. ‘A steadily increasing percentage of the young and inexperienced pilots were shot down before they reached their tenth operational flight.’

This meant that the Luftwaffe was always struggling to keep up. As its pilots were outnumbered, even the huge experience levels of the experten were not enough to prevent them from being defeated. The lack of numbers became significant. In certain instances history had demonstrated that if an outnumbered air force possessed aircraft as good as or better than the enemy, it could at the very least cause serious problems for the enemy. By both 1918 and 1945 the Germans were in possession of splendid fighters, but the Allied aircraft were good enough to enable their pilots to defeat less-experienced opponents in a better machine. Von Richthofen rightly argued that the quality of the aircraft mattered less than the quality of the man who flew it, although if pilots of equal ability were in aircraft of differing quality, the one in the better machine was likely to win.

The Fokker D VII may have been the best aircraft of the Great War, but it was overcome by a combination of factors. The Allies had greater numbers of aircraft, and the fighters were of a nearly similar qualitative level. This was enough to minimise the effect of the Fokker. The same occurred in 1945. While the FW190D, Ta152 and Me262 could all claim to be superior in some way to their opponents, this was offset by the pilots of these types being outnumbered by aircraft that could at least match them if well flown. This applied even to the Me262, which although 100mph faster than any Allied fighter available, was shot down frequently by Mustang, Spitfire and Tempest pilots. This was in direct contrast to the experience of German and British pilots in 1941 and early 1942 when the first versions of the FW190 had been introduced. The Luftwaffe then possessed an aircraft that was superior to any in British service (until the Spitfire Mark IX arrived) and large numbers of experienced pilots. Although the RAF was able to give a good account of itself generally against the FW190, the problems it faced were serious. They were further intensified by the fact that the RAF was operating over enemy-held territory, thus ensuring that it was unlikely that pilots of shot-down aircraft would be able to return to battle.

The same could be said of the RFC’s experience in early 1917, culminating in ‘Bloody April’. Although the RFC possessed many highly proficient pilots, its equipment was simply not good enough to deal with the fighters in German service. This saw the loss of many experienced men, who had to be replaced by aircrew fresh out of training schools. This created a vicious cycle of losses, where newcomers to fighter squadrons were unable to remain alive for long enough to gain knowledge of how to fight, to be replaced by men who, as a result of the demand for them, had even less training, being even more vulnerable as a result. Once the Sopwith Camel, SE 5a and Bristol Fighter arrived in service by June 1917, the situation changed dramatically, and the Germans found it almost impossible to gain anything other than local air superiority for the remainder of the war.

This was not a phenomenon confined to the Western Front; the Soviet air force was virtually annihilated in the first weeks of the war by experienced pilots in better aircraft, and it took considerable time for the Russians to be able to make their numbers and manufacturing superiority show. In the Pacific the RAF was surprised to discover how proficient the Japanese were, with the result that the hopelessly outclassed Brewster Buffalo could do nothing to contain the Japanese advance. The Americans also found their aircraft were outclassed by the A6M Zero-sen, but found ways to overcome the difficulties. American fighters carried a far heavier armament than Japanese aircraft and were better armoured. This meant that if American pilots could at least get a shot in at the Japanese they stood a good chance of seriously damaging or destroying their opponent. As a result, the US air services sought to develop suitable tactics to force the Japanese to fight on terms that gave American pilots the opportunity to exploit these advantages in their equipment. This did much to rectify the problem initially, until new aircraft types entered service. Once the Vought F4U Corsair, Grumman F6F Hellcat and Lockheed P-38 Lightning arrived, the Japanese found that they were outnumbered and facing aircraft that were in many ways (if not absolutely) superior to theirs. Once again the Japanese began to haemorrhage experienced pilots as a result of this, creating what might be termed the qualitative-quantitative cycle of aerial attrition.

This applied in both World Wars. It was all very well having more experienced pilots, but if they were hopelessly outnumbered there was little they could do. If they flew machines that were clearly inferior to those of their enemies, the situation was the same. Alternatively, possessing an aircraft that was clearly superior to the opposing air force was of little use if the pilots were not experienced enough to exploit the advantages their machines possessed. However, where numerical and qualitative variables were more closely matched, the results of aerial combat (and the campaigns of which they were part) were less easy to predict. A smaller number of superior aircraft, coupled with well-trained pilots, could tilt the balance, even when numerical superiority lay in the hands of the enemy. A classic case in point may be said to have been the Battle of Britain. Although the RAF was outnumbered, it had two splendid fighter aircraft in the Spitfire and the Hurricane, which were able to deal with the German attacks. Had the RAF settled in the 1930s for vast numbers of the Gloster Gladiator, even if this type had outnumbered the Me109 and Me110, it is hard to perceive a positive outcome for the RAF in the summer of 1940. Although a slightly different case, the possession of large numbers of Fairey Battle bombers did little for the RAF’s efforts in France in 1940 – a smaller number of Hurricanes equipped for the fighter-bomber role would perhaps have been better, though not sufficiently so to have changed the overall outcome of the German campaign against France and the Low Countries. As ‘Johnnie’ Johnson noted, ‘Good aeroplanes are more important than superiority in numbers’.

Air forces were of course not slow to recognise the importance of having machines that could match those in enemy service, and to have pilots capable of matching their opponents. Although the leading ‘aces’, as noted, possessed certain personal qualities that other pilots lacked, such as enhanced Situational Awareness, training organisations understood that fighter pilots tended to be slightly different. It was all very well possessing superior aircraft, but if their pilots were inferior they would lose. Von Richthofen argued that ‘the quality of the box matters little. Success depends upon the man who sits in it’.

This was recognised by all air forces in both wars, although the losing side in each conflict suffered from an inability to obtain enough men with ‘the right stuff’.