The Story of the He 219 II: Combat and Bird Puns

Part 1 can be found here.

Program :start:

                             The prototype He 219 as drafted by Heinkel was very similar to the plane that would eventually fly. It had a narrow fuselage, twin engines now in the conventional places, and a twin tail. While tail turrets will still mulled over as an option, most of the firepower was to be directed forward, in the wings and in a ventral tray beneath the fuselage. While the cockpit was now arranged in tandem, there was some disagreement as to if there should be two or three crew, with the third manning the rear firing guns, much like the night fighter Ju 88. (A prototype flew, which test pilots commented had even better handling than the plain Uhu, but nothing came of it.) The fuselage was so narrow, in fact, this created a slight problem with the tricycle landing gear. The wheel on the forward strut had to rotate 90 degrees as well as retract in order to fit in the nose. Four bladed propellers were planned until it was discovered that four blade props were beyond the capabilities of the interrupter gear. In early 1942 a captured Soviet Il-2 Stormavik was examined by the engineering team to see how the Russians had protected the Il-2's annular radiators, which was adapted for the He 219. On the basis of pilot suggestions, plans for slanted music mounts and flame suppressors over the exhausts were integrated into the design. Flame suppressors at this point in the war were standard equipment on both Axis and Allied night-flyers. The giant piston engines that powered aircraft at the time regularly snorted flame out their exhausts; an obvious visual cue to the enemy at night. Flame suppressors were simply steel cans over the exhaust pipes to shield these snorts from view.

                          Things were going quite well – until the British unexpectedly decided to drop by and argue that a new night fighter was needed. Allied Bomber command targeted Heinkel's plant in Rostock between the 24th and 27th of April, 1942, which over four raids destroyed the production facilities and a good percentage of the engineering drawings for the He 219. The prototype He 219 and the facilities around it escaped damage. To keep this from happening again, production was moved to the other Heinkel plant, in Vienna, Austria. (British intelligence services may not have been aware of the new night fighter under development – but certainly was aware of the He 177, who's abilities they [along with the Germans, ironically] overestimated.) Even this air raid barely slowed development, with Kammhuber requesting at least one gruppe of 20-30 aircraft operational by next April.

A early He 219 being tested.

In June, another assessment meeting for Heinkel happened, with Generalfeldmarschall Milch chairing. He approved of the work being done on the He 219, which he saw as a replacement for the stillborn Ar 240. He then casually dropped a bombshell: that what the Reich really needed was a replacement for the Bf 110, and that the He 219 program would have to compete under this brand new requirement. Kammhuber, Heinkel, and the Luftwaffe sharply protested, (possibly pointing out the program had nearly been terminated by a enemy night bomber raid two months before) and canceling something already so far along to possibly build a new fighter to be deployed by 1945 was crazy. Kammhuber did request new proposals be submitted by the major manufacturers, and Messerschmidt – submitted a upgraded Bf 110, the Bf 110 G. Milch picked the Bf 110 G as the winner. This accepted proposal suggests that Milnich and Messerschmidt worked out this arrangement beforehand, and went through the shadow play of the proposal to justify it formally. This is how the Bf 110 remained Germany's main night fighter until the start of 1944, and would serve on to the end of the war. (To be fair, the Bf 110 did prove deadly against British Halifax IIIs and Lancasters during this period. )

                       Now that the prototype was nearing a flyable condition, more thought was put into production. Interestingly, the main constraint was not cost, but man-hours for construction. Among other effects, the invasion of the USSR was sapping industry, even the aircraft industry, of skilled workers as they were called up into the army. Heinkel had to move quickly to keep a good slice of his skilled tradesmen from being drafted just as series pre-production was starting. He then had to protest when the Reich tried to draft half his experienced line workers, and replace them with eastern European “guest workers”, IE slaves.

                     In November 1942, the He 219 V1 took its first flight, with no major problems. Some stability issues were discovered and Heinkel offered his engineers cash bonuses to fix them – until he was legally restrained from doing so. (I have no idea if this was a corporate charter or Third Reich thing, but apparently cash incentives of this type were illegal.) Undeterred, Heinkel offered incentives in alcohol instead. The initial prototypes started racking up flight hours, and in early 1943 it was decided that NJG 1, Germany's premier night fighter outfit, would begin operational testing. 

The Logo of NJG 1. The lightning bolt would prove to be an apt symbol, as night fighting became more reliant on electronic devices.

                 Meanwhile, Milch was taking another swing at killing the He 219 program, saying that the Ju 88 (which had a night fighter variant) or the Ju 188 (which didn't) would be 'good enough' in night fighter defense. Kammhuber countered, getting Heinkel to send prototypes V7 and V8 to NJG 1 based at Venlo in the Netherlands. Milch countered this counter by saying that what was really needed was a fly-off between the respective planes, so the question could be settled “objectively.” 

                 The big day for this objective test was March 25th, 1943, at the testing grounds at Peenemunde. A Ju 188 bomber had its defensive armament and bomb racks removed, and was christened a night fighter (the only 'night fighter' ever to be made of the Ju 188.) First flying mock combat against the Ju 188 and then in performance trials, the He 219 scored consistently higher than the Ju 188, with pilots commenting that this initial prototype was already well sorted aerodynamically, with good stability. In contrast, the Ju 188 was not nearly as nimble as the He 219. And, Heinkel had done an excellent job of rationalizing its construction: the unit cost was less than a He 111 medium bomber, and quite considerably cheaper than the Ju 188. Milch remained unmoved, saying that producing just 50 aircraft per month (the initial production target) was too low to make it really efficient to make. But blocked on this line of attack, he let the matter lie.

                 Prototype work continued that spring of 1943. Various weapon combinations were tried on the He 219 during the spring of 1943. Four 30 mm cannons were attempted in the ventral tray, but the He 219 collected expended brass casings to save them for recycling instead of just ejecting them. The gas pressure from firing was thus not vented, and the pressure buildup from twin 30mm cannons actually deformed the prototype's ventral gun tray. 20 mm cannons were the standard armament, supplemented as needed with machine guns. Heinkel also tested the compressed air ejection seat fairly extensively. The first pilot ejection system ever deployed had a few oddities compared to what is used today, as you might expect. First, obviously, the use of compressed air. The pilot's seat was launched with 90 PSI of force, and the radar operator with 60. (Why compressed air is a interesting question – Heinkel was well familiar with rockets, having built the first rocket powered fighter in 1938. Possibly finding the right propellant for a rocket ejection seat was too big a task for Heinkel, who settled on a mechanical solution instead.) The ejection method was also somewhat complex – first, a crewman ejecting would place his feet in special stirrups on the sides of the seat. Then, he would have to unplug his radio headset. (This step was rather important, as if it was still plugged in when being shot out of the aircraft, the cable would crush your throat, killing you. This was discovered in early operations.) Then, the canopy had to be ejected, and only then could you hit the large red lever to eject yourself. If all went well, you'd be shot into the darkness, and the braking chute attacked to the ejection chair would open. The harness you were strapped to the chair with had a quick release, and once separated from the chair, a crewman could deploy his regular parachute. It strikes me as a bit complected - since in similar circumstances (IE bailing out of a crashing airplane during combat) I'd be panic vomiting - but the men of the NJGs were made of sterner stuff. 

An operational He 219 of NJG 1 during a test flight, 1944 . The uneven black is to let AA gunners guarding German airbases know this is in fact a German plane.

                      Speaking of the NJGs, in 1943 they were still almost totally reliant on the Bf 110. While some Ju 88s were being used in the role, the RLM was reluctant to release them to night fighter squadrons, having dire needs for bombers in the West, the Mediterranean, and the East. The Do 217 had been built as a night fighter in 1942, mostly to fill the hole that the Me 210's failure had blown in Bf 110 manufacturing, but the Do 217 in the night fighter role was a dog; with only its heavy armament to recommend it. In 1940 and 1941, this mattered little, but in 1942 Bomber Command scored significant successes, area bombing Cologne, and disrupting industry. The main innovation in tactics during this time was the 'slanted music' mount. By far the most effective tactic to kill British night bombers, the attacking plane would fly in under the bomber, then use its oblique weapon mount to fire into the bomber's inboard wing fuel tanks. Such a hit was usually fatal at a burst, regardless of the weapon used. He 219 crews were to use these tactics as well, with the vast majority of bomber kills scored by this method. Some innovations proved to be a help to the NJGs during this time: devices were developed that could home in on British tail-warning radar, as well as the Germans developing their own aerial radar, the FuG 202 Litchenstien. But like most of the Luftwaffe, the NJGs was in a tenuous situation, and needed more resources. Radar was installed in the prototype He 219s at Velno, the FuG 202. Radar and other electronic devices would prove important in the battle of the night sky, though also a problem to the Germans. The Axis lagged several years behind in radar technology, and both major radar types (the FuG 202 and the later SN-2) would be completely compromised as the war went on. In May 1943 a Ju 88 crew flying from Norway defected, and delivered a complete FuG 202 set to the British, who in a month or two started to deploy effective jamming for it. This countermeasure would be used first in the July 1943 massed raid on Hamburg.

                        In May 1943, Kammhuber had another meeting with Hitler. With Goering in attendance, he was not the bringer of glad tidings. Kammhuber had prepared an analysis with the OKW on the seriousness of the risk of the Allied strategic bombing campaign to Germany. This analysis had convinced Goering, who decided a face to face meeting with Hitler was the only option. At the time Kammhuber had only 500 aircraft in night defenses, and that was divided between three fronts. In the first half of 1943, the flak defenses were taking out more night bombers than the NJGs were. Kammhuber argued that to fend off the strategic bombing campaign and the allies vastly superior aircraft production, the Night Fighter command alone would need 2160 aircraft in the west. Hitler of course, would have none of it, and ridiculed Kammhuber's estimates of Allied production, despite the fact that all the numbers came from German intelligence. “It's absolute nonsense,” Hitler shouted. “If the figures of 5000 a month were right, you would be right too. In that case, I would have to withdraw from Eastern Front forthwith, and apply all resources to air defense. But they are not right! I will not stand for such nonsense.” Goering in light of all this would switch sides, and later attacked Kammhuber as well: “You are a megalomaniac. You want to have the whole Luftwaffe. Why don't you sit down in my chair?” Goering's response was typical of his post USSR invasion leadership. Before the fateful invasion, Goering was uncharacteristicly brave, objecting, in the most respectful way possible, to Hitler's plan to attack the Soviet Union while already in a war on two fronts. This (once again, very respectful) degreaded Goering's stock more than the failure of the battle of Britain did, and Goering's response was to be even more slavish in obeying der Fuhrer's wishes from then on. Kammhuber would eventually be dismissed as General of night fighters in November 1943, and sent to Norway to command the tiny Luftflotte 5.

                          In order to fend off further schemes of Milch (to say nothing of Bomber command,) Kammhuber and Heinkel decided that the later prototypes V7 and V8, would actually be sent into combat. The night of June 11th 1943, 783 bombers took off from Britain to attack Dusseldorf, and Major Streib and Uffz. Fisher of NJG 1 in a He 219 A-0 rose to meet them. Guided by ground controllers to the bomber stream, they then used their portable radar set to engage. Shooting down five heavy bombers, Major Streib returned to base only when he ran out of ammo. On approach, there were several malfunctions in the prototype, including condensation on the windscreen, and the flaps stowing themselves without letting Major. Streib know. As a result, the landing was extremely fast and hard, and the He 219 broke up on the runway. As emergency crews rushed to the scene, Streib and Fisher extracted themselves from the cockpit section uninjured. With that amazing performance, it's safe to say NJG 1 was sold on the He 219 from then on. In fact, by September, Major Streib was contacting Heinkel directly, to get prototypes in testing released to his squadron early. Series production started in August, with A-0s being released to NJG 1 as soon as the engineers finished their prototype testing.

                             NJG 1 soon found other things to like about the Owl. With the engines offset from the fuselage, the Owl was really three large tubes with wings and a tail. The large tubes had been fitted with many removable sections and access hatches, which oddly for a high tech weapon, made maintenance a snap. While Velno was the only place that could properly service the new fighter, (in fact, wounded Owls often took the risk of flying back to Velno rather than land at a closer airfield for that reason) it was no maintenance pig. And of course, it's durability and ejection seats meant that the Owl took better care of its crews, as well. Teething problems, of course, still had to be worked out. For example, the windscreen had fogging problems into 1944. Still, the view at the pointy end of things was “we need squadrons of these things, right now”. Milch's response to the Owl's first combat was, ah, typical: “The He 219 is good, it shot down five in one mission. We can't ask more than that. But perhaps Streib would have had just as much success with another machine.”

RAF photo during the attack on Hamburg.

                            As June turned into July, raids on the Ruhr industrial valley caused Hitler to reverse his former orders, and more resources started to flow toward bomber defenses. This proved too little, too late. Starting on the 24th/25th of July, the RAF/RCAF/RAAF and the USAAF began their week of round the clock fire raids on Hamburg. The destruction to Germany's second largest city were immense. 42,000 civilians were killed, almost the same losses that Britain would suffer due to air raids throughout the entire war. 61% of all housing was destroyed, and half the large factories were burned, along with nearly half of the smaller ones. This was soon followed up by the Schweinfurt–Regensburg raids by the USAAF. While the daytime Luftwaffe savaged the attacking bombers, inflicting unsustainable losses, the USAAF did severely disrupt ball bearing production at Schweinfurt, and leveled the large Messerschmidt plant at Regensburg.
 

Aerial shots of Hamburg after the firestorm.

                    This double catastrophe caused the leadership of the RLM to pull together for once: it was clear that the production priority for aircraft had to be defensive fighters, day and night. This long needed strategy change lasted until Goering brought this new direction to Hitler. Goering returned in tears, saying that Hitler had 1) lost faith in him; 2) rejected all defensive measures out of hand; and 3)said that the only way for the Luftwaffe to redeem itself was to begin a offensive bombing campaign against Britain immediately, to create such a terrorizing reprisal that raids like Hamburg would be seen as too risky. This had a negative effect on the He 219 program, as it made resources going to Heinkel's 177 all but inviolable; any delays from that program would have to come out of other Heinkel projects.

                    The worsening situation in the air drove another top RLM staffer to suicide. Hans Jenschonneck, Chief of staff at the RLM, would kill himself in later 1943. Jenschonneck would leave a suicide note, like Udet, blaming Goering for his death and the state of the Luftwaffe. Goering had certainly not done his chief of staff any favors. After the Battle of Britain, Goering began ignoring his advisers in Milch, Udet, and Jenschonneck, (because they were always saying negative and stressful stuff) and formed a kitchen cabinet (to use the Anglo phrase) at the RLM, which consisted of his Luftwaffe friends. He listened to his friends over his own senior staff, with good ideas getting through essentially at random. He also formed a shadow senior staff, made up of young decorated Luftwaffe flyers, who were much more the worshipful acolytes Goering preferred in his underlings. This boy band of advisers Goering, at least, treated with much more respect than the actual senior staff, who he treated like hired help, and not especially smart hired help at that. Jenschonneck in particular was dicked around quite a bit in this time, often having to wait outside doors for hours, while Goering was in high powered meetings with the other Nazi playas. The fact that his directions were often being interfered with the Nazi One Direction (who had no experience and frequently no idea what they were doing) and yet still getting all the blame for the Luftwaffe's failures must have been terrible for Jenschonneck, especially as this blame was often doled out by his former idol, Adolph Hitler, in the form of megomaniacal tirades as to how terrible the Luftwaffe was. Jenschonneck lost faith in everything he built his life on: Nazisim, the Luftwaffe, and his own abilities, and quietly locked a door behind him one day and shot himself.

                   It was also around this time Milch went off the reservation, having telephone conversations with prominent Nazis that Goering should be replaced as head of the RLM. This was a risky move, and Milch knew these words would get back to Goering, and Goering might just have Milch killed for them. Goering instead choose to strip Milch of his remaining responsibilities and then fire him. (Goering actually fired Milch by letter, but before the letter was received, Milch showed up at Goering's birthday party. Goering couldn't understand why Milch had decided to attend his party after Goering had send him a “you're fired and fuck you” letter, and was rude to him. Milch, for his part, didn't understand why Goering was being a extra-large douche to him in front of all the other Nazi cheerleaders top Reich officials, until he got Goering's letter a few days later. Awkward! I mean, hello!) Milch was immediately rehired by Goering's rival Albert Speer, Minister of Armaments, to do more or less the same job he had been doing before.

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                 Throughout the rest of 1943, NJG 1 made use of Heinkel's creation. Because Heinkel was sending the squadron what in another air force would be termed initial prototypes, he started an innovative program to fix problems as quickly as possible. The engineers at the factory were put in direct contact with the mechanics and pilots at Velno to hear suggestions and fix problems at the front line. While readiness rates were initially 20%, thanks to this program this climbed to 80% by early 1944. It should also be mentioned this strategy was highly unusual for the Nazis; who unlike the Allies, usually kept the scientists and engineers at arms length from operations. This innovation was perhaps also a necessity, as only the wheels and tires of the He 219 could be obtained through the usual Luftwaffe supply channels; all other parts had to come directly from the factory. Still, only a dozen or so He 219s were operational during this period. Hpt. Frank, Gruppenkommandeur of I./NJG 1, was killed when his Heinkel He 219A-0 collided with a Bf 110 on 27 September 1943. He was to be the first of several night-fighter commanders killed while flying He 219s. He was replaced by Hauptmann Meurer, an ace night-fighter pilot who would eventually have 65 victories. Major Streib was promoted to the post of inspector-general of night fighters, which he would hold for the rest of the war.

                 One more thing: about the name 'Uhu' which I've been translating as Owl: once production started, Heinkel asked the RLM if the He 219 shouldn't have a name or something. While the RLM was dreaming up a naming system involving birds of prey, they never got back to Heinkel about it. Meanwhile, crews had nicknamed the new plane the 'Uhu', and the name stuck.

A He 219 of NJG 1.

Ein Menchen und Uhu.

The Owl vs. the Whirlwind

               The year ended for the He 219 program with frustration, but hope for 1944. While the new fighter was slowly trickling in, it still had not equipped a full wing of fighters. In the midst of all this, Milch tried again to have the He 219 program killed. This time, he tried money: in December 1943, Milch offered Heinkel a particular deal.

1. Wind down production of the He 219. The Rostock Heinkel works would produce Ju 88 Gs (the night fighter specialist Ju 88.) The Vienna works would produce the night-fighter variant of Do 335;
2. Reduce production of the He 219 from 100 to 50 machines per month, at the Vienna works. The Rostock works would produce the Ju 88G instead;
3. or, no more than 100 He 219s to be built per month.

Couple things to note about these offers: the Ju 88G was still in the experimental stage, and no prototype of the Do 335 had even flown by December 1943. Meanwhile, the Owl had not only entered series production, but was in demand by the squadron that flew them. Heinkel, naturally, took the third option – though a production rate of 100 per month turned out to be wildly optimistic.

A nice shot of a He 219 with low visibility markings. It looks like the paint job on the upper surfaces is the opposite of the Owl at Udvar-Hazy: a coat of grey-violet with light grey stripes.

An Udvar-Hazesque He 219. Sources disagree if the dark undersides was a camouflage standard or something only added in 1945, when the He 219 was used as a night ground attack aircraft.

                              While the situation was grim for German Night Fighters, it was not yet desperate. In 1943 the Luftwaffe retained day air superiority over the Reich, and had one a large victory at night. Emboldened after their victory at Hamburg, RAF bomber command had systemically bombed Berlin, literally in an attempt to force the Germans to surrender via aerial attack. (The USAAF was unable to participate, as the Schweinfurt raid had damaged their numbers too badly, and time was needed to rebuild them.) The NJGs – using Bf 110Gs and Ju 88s, – had managed to inflict crippling losses on the attackers. The aerial battle of Berlin cost Bomber Command 1047 heavy bombers, and nearly 7,000 men. These losses were such that the RAF were forced to give up night area bombing for a time. Despite this, the RAF retained a considerable advantage in electronic warfare. The night fighters got a new radar to compensate: the SN-2, which had a range of 10 KM, and was resistant to RAF jamming. Nearly all He 219s were equipped with this new radar set.

On the dispersal pads, with people in the shot giving you an idea as to how big and tall the He 219 was. The Owl came with integrated ladders for the crew, very much like the A-10's integrated crew ladder if you've ever seen those. The rectangular panels you see open are maintenance hatches.

He 219 under a wooden camoflauge roof.

                         So entering into 1944, the Luftwaffe was not without reason optimistic that it was getting on top of the air war, at least at night. Not only had they scored a real victory in the battle of Berlin, 1944 was the year the Owl population was to expand with proper production. Attrition and the training of night fighter pilots would prove to be the bottleneck. If a fighter pilot is a valuable specialist, then a night-fighter pilot is a sub-set of that, and hence, even more valuable. Night and bad weather flying require additional training on instrument flying among other things, and training was always weak in the Luftwaffe during the war, thanks to training units being consonantly raided for men and aircraft. And Night-Fighter operations were becoming more hazardous. This was underlined in the Owl's case by the death of Hauptmann Meurer. On January 22nd, his He 219 slammed into a Lancaster, killing the crews of both planes. Meurer was replaced by Major Forster, a 42 year old pilot who had been a reservist in pre-war Germany before being retrained as a pilot. Wounded in combat early in the war, Forster had been a pilot instructor before being reassigned to NJG 1 six months before.

                    Tactics by 1944 had changed as well. The Kammhuber line had cracked by mid-1943, with Bomber command concentrating its force into a single stream to lessen exposure to patrolling night fighters. The response by the Reich defenders were some surprisingly fluid improvisations. Now, night fighters were classified as “tame sow” and “wild sow.” Tame sow fighters were simply controlled by ground radar, while 'wild sow' were free agents, engaging more or less at will. German fighter command also gave up assigning night fighters in Kammhuber's grid, and instead would broadcast a play-by-play commentary on the bomber stream, allowing the night fighters to figure out their own deployments. In addition to being more flexible, this new approach also allowed single engine fighters to serve effectively in the night-fighter role. After all, who needs radar when burning cities illuminate your targets? In this new environment, the He 219 shone. Its higher speed allowed for more engagements, and it's firepower and stability made for more kills.

                  February saw NJG 1 completely re-equipping with the He 219, becoming the first (and as it turns out, only) squadron to have a entire wing of the new night fighter. The RLM, once again, took this latest benchmark as an excuse to terminate the He 219 program, saying this time that “the crews did not want the He 219.” Heinkel and NJG 1 were now used to such bureaucratic dickatry, and fired back with a series of testimonials from NJG 1. Choice among these include “those crews that have flown the He 219 no longer want to fly any other night fighter” and “the Bf 110 is too slow...and in six months will not be able to shoot down anything.”

                  April 1944 saw new developments on the edge of the night sky. First, a crew successfully used the ejection system to bail out of a falling He 219, netting 1000 dm each to the pilot and the radio operator from Heinkel. Second, the RAF decided enough was enough with casualties from night-fighters. Re-equipping with De Havilland Mosquito mk. XIX night-fighters, operations against the NJGs began in earnest. The Mosquito mk. XIX was, like all 'Mossie' fighter- bombers, a formidable airplane. Equipped with four 20mm cannons and radar superior to the He 219, the Mosquitoes were also had a significant edge in speed, thanks to their light wooden construction. The British also employed a tactic that the Germans had initially used against them: the Mosquito Mk. XIX would loiter near German air bases, intercepting German night-fighters as they took off and landed. This was aided by British intelligence, who had established secret FAO (forward air control) posts near Velno and other night fighter bases, who could broadcast their intel directly to Allied night-fighters. Patroling from FAO point to FAO point, lone Allied night fighters would hopefully pick up the scent of German night fighters.

The appearance of the radar equipped Mosquitoes ended the fledgling Owl's 'happy time' if such a thing could be said to exist. Now He 219s had to spend much of their energy simply avoiding the hunters in their own airspace. One tactic that spread quickly as a defense was a kind of 'crazy Ivan' maneuver, where Owls would make random, sudden course changes to look for pursuers. (The ability to turn one's head 180 degrees would have been quite useful here.) Another was climbing quickly to the ceiling height of 30,000 ft upon takeoff, as the Mosquito (in intruder kit) remained at the night bomber's operational altitude of 10-20,000 ft. This tactic was useful in finding the bomber stream, and the occasional pouncing attack on a unlucky Mosquito. The He 219 scored several confirmed kills against the Mosquito, the only Luftwaffe piston engined fighter that could (somewhat reliably) be used against them. The unfortunate truth, however, is that the Mosquito was just flat out faster in level flight, and once the Owl had lost the element of surprise, the Mosquito could disengage essentially at will. The men of NJG 1 tried lightening their Owls to compensate, removing most of their cannon and even going unpainted to save weight, but these solutions only helped a little. (Interesting fact I discovered: veteran Uhu aircrews preferred a light weapon loadout, taking two 20mm cannons in the ventral tray and two 20mm cannons in the wing roots. Against an enemy with superior speed, I guess every bit helps.) The Mosquito in its recon form, high flying and even faster than the fighter variants, was still untouchable, even by the Owl. Despite all these problems, NJG 1 remained successful in the first half of 1944, one of the very few Luftwaffe units that could claim this.

April also saw further attacks to bomb the Heinkel factory in Vienna. While the He 219 was still a rare encounter for the Allies, they considered it the most dangerous night fighter by far. Thanks to some of Heinkel's workers being of the 'unpaid conscript' variety, it was easy for Allied intelligence to keep tabs on He 219 production. Flying from Italy, the USAAF had made three attempts to raid Heinkel's Vienna night fighter plant. The first raid of B-24s had missed the factory, hitting a nearby suburb. The second raid found the target overcast. The third attempt on April 23rd hit the bull's eye. 956 USAAF bombers dropped 292 tons of bombs on the Heidfeld factory, destroying it and killing 94 workers. Heinkel was forced to shift production in his plants around, the first of several times new capacity that was going to go to He 219 production was consumed by other Heinkel plants being blown up. A few days later Heinkel's other plant in Vienna at Zwolfaxing was similarly hit.

This Period USAAF chart explains things pretty well.

Another Lancaster night attack picture.

                       These raids were a heavy setback for the He 219 program. The Nazi leadership had come around to Kammhuber's reasoning by 1944, and had made the production of fighters the top aircraft priority. Most non fighter programs, including the He 177 and the badly needed Ju 290, were halted at this point. Still, having to rebuild the factory in the middle of 1944 guaranteed that He 219 production would not reach even 50 fighters a month. Because of these attacks, Heinkel was forced to redesign certain He 219 components so they could be made out of wood. Glider builder Hutter was subcontracted as they had lots of experience in manufacturing wood aircraft components. When the demand came for a revision of the He 219 to serve as a high altitude interceptor to counter the B-29, the overtaxed Heinkel farmed this work out to Hutter. This is where the Hu 211 originated.

                         The Luftwaffe reacted to this setback predictably. During a symposium (presumably about 'why shit is getting worse') at the Berchtesgaden, Goering ordered production and further development of the He 219 halted. It would be replaced operationally by the Ju 388 – a model not yet in production, and one that, incidentally, would never see combat. This decision was almost immediately reversed after some sharp debate. At one meeting the chief of the Luftwaffe fighter staff asked why the He 219 should be replaced, given its continuing success. An RLM flunkie responded that night fighter crews preferred the Ju 388, to which the Chief responded 'uh, the Ju 388 isn't even in production yet.' (Research note: while reading what the Smithsonian had to say about the He 219 on their web site, I noted the Smithsonian said that the He 219 program was - officially, anyway - terminated at this point. Other sources say that this decision was reversed, as I've written here. Production did continue, regardless if the order was cancelled or not. This confusion about if the He 219 was cancelled seems to me a good example of how chaotic Germany had become at this point. What would be worse: cancelling a useful defense fighter at a time of crisis to replace it with a model that would never see service, or having that order just ignored by the manufacturer?)

                    On the 8th of July 1944, the Heinkel plant at Zwolfaxing was bombed again by the USAAF, where it was all but annihilated. Heinkel's lone remaining (somewhat reconstructed) plant at Heidfeld was the night fighter plant, so production of the Owl could continue, but this dashed any hopes of expanding Owl production. Heinkel's energies henceforth were directed by the RLM into the He 162 Salamander, the “people's jet fighter” that was dreamed as a desperate counter to the now crushing Allied air supremacy. By day, the Allies could launch a 1000 heavy bombers, escorted by 1000 long range fighters. The Night bombers had fewer escorts, but could similarly launch 1000 bomber raids at will. The Allied bombers could now use targeting radar to hit targets with the same accuracy the daytime raiders could.

                   After the Normandy invasion, the air base at Velno was increasingly vulnerable to air raids, and NJG 1was transferred to the Munster region.  The Munster base was forced to keep its aircraft dispersed thanks to the danger from air attack, camouflaged under trees and exposed to all weathers. Crews now found frequent electrical problems in their He 219s, both due to condensation forming inside their airplanes and the rather precipitous decline in Reich manufacturing quality. Worse, their radar had been compromised again. In July, a Ju 88 carrying SN-2 radar landed in error at a British air base, and it was not long before the British had found good jamming frequencies for the German radar. As most Mosquito night fighters now carried air radar detectors, German night fighter radar was now something like using a flashlight on the African Savannah at night. You might find what you are looking for, but the hungry lions out there in the tall grass could see you all the easier.

                   Training new crews became more difficult as well, as training flights in the daytime could be intercepted by enemy fighters. Shortly after NJG 1 moved back to Germany, two Owls on a training flight during the day over the Rhine were intercepted by (I'm guessing here) USAAF fighters, and were shot down. One crew managed to crash land at a nearby airbase, the airbase's flak defenses driving the attackers off. A month after the move, Gruppe Major Foster and his radio man were killed. They had been testing out a new instrument landing system and crashed while on short final. For that matter, the StaffelKaptian of 3./NJG 1 was killed in November when his vehicle was strafed by British Typhoons. Another training flight of two Uhus was jumped in the day by a armed recon flight of RAF Tempests. This was of course on top of losses suffered elsewhere; in December alone 1./NJG 1 lost six He 219s.

                  This is not to say that successes were not scored. From the time of introduction to the first of November 1944 He 219s shot down 133 enemy planes, nearly all of these heavy bombers. Eight of this number were confirmed Mosquito kills. An impressive performance, especially in the context of the disintegration of the Luftwaffe. In November, one He 219 crew scored 6 victories and another probable kill in just 12 minutes. The next night, the crew was shot down by a RAF Mosquito, with only the radio operator surviving. This is perhaps the story of the He 219's combat career in a nutshell: a good airframe scores some amazing victories but is too badly outnumbered to effect a real change in the tide of war.

He 219s idle at the end of the war.

Ju 88 and Bf 110 night fighters await disposal in Denmark post war.

The Roost of the Owl's Story

                   The NJGs were still somewhat operational in 1945. For example, on a raid in Duselberg in February 1945, Reich defenders managed to claim 62 victories over the attacking force of 450. In fact, the start of 1945 saw the number of Luftwaffe night fighters peak at over 1000 machines. Unfortunately, most of the skilled crews were now dead, and the curb-stomping of Axis oil production left very little fuel to fly them.  The end was now no longer in doubt. On the 25 of March, NJG 1's base of operations was thumped by B-17s and B-24s of the USAAF, and the next day the remains of the base were strafed for some 8 hours. The survivors of NJG 1 moved to the Island of Sylt, a German Island in the North Sea. By April the entire squadron (which nominally had four sections) had been reduced to the strength of a single wing. He 219s were the weird birds in units flying Bf 110 Gs and Ju 88 night-fighters. The last six He 219s constructed were made in a “forest factory” (IE a forest) from spare parts, two with the regular power plants, and four with the Jumo 213E engine. It is unclear if they were used operationally. The last Owl shot down had a even more exotic power plant: a jet engine underslung the fuselage. In the early morning of the 15^th of April, 1945, a Mosquito mk. XXX detected a aircraft at 7000 meters. Diving and attacking, it set this unusual Owl ablaze. It apparently was a prototype of Heinkel's that had been pressed into service. The Jet engine gave the He 219 a big boost in climbing and acceleration – but did nothing to improve the Owl's top speed, and was a significant drag when not on.

It looks good, but it still couldn't do what various Packard and Merlin equipped Mossies could.

A He 219 being scrapped. Regular dot camouflage.

Dead Owls at the Munster base.

                          As everything else fell apart, so did the RLM. Because of Allied aerial supremacy, the factory for the He 162 was built in a disused salt mine. In the final months of the War, Hitler's disgust at the Luftwaffe's failures was so complete that when he needed air advice, he sought it from his personal pilot. Goering would end the war under arrest, rather improbably accused of treason. Milch after Hitler's suicide and the fall of Berlin attempted to flee Germany, but on May 4^th, 1945 was captured by British Commandos near the Baltic coast . When Milch surrendered, he presented his Field Marshall's baton to the officer in command, Brigadier Derek Mills-Roberts. The Brigider had recently been involved in the liberation of the Bergen-Belsen concentration camp, and returned the honor by breaking the baton over Milch's head.

                     Both Milch and Goering would be tried for war crimes. Goering was eventually sentenced to death, and would kill himself on the morning of his execution. Milch was found guilty of war crimes as well, mostly stemming from the forced labor of POWs and slaves in Aviation factories. Sentenced to life in prison, this sentence was commuted in the early 50s, and Milch was released to write his memoirs and live the rest of his life in Dusseldorf. General Kammhuber would be drawn back to the West German Luftwaffe to serve as its inspector-general. Major Streib with 66 confirmed victories worked in the grocery business for about a decade before returning to the air force as the head of a Luftwaffe pilot school. Ernst Heinkel, a aviation engineer in a nation forbidden a aircraft industry, used his company to build bicycles, scooters, and eventually a minicar. Heinkel lived to see his company return to aviation – building under license the F-104 Starfighter for the German Air Force – but would die in 1956. His company would after several mergers and buyouts to form part of the modern-day Airbus consortium.

                     As for the Owl itself: by the war's end, some 54 He 219s were captured in flyable condition. There was not a great deal of interest in Heinkel's night-fighter, rather understandably, since it was a fairly plain bird in the menagerie of Nazi late war aviation projects. With jet fighters, jet bombers, and some sort of jet fighter flying wing, it was difficult to get excited about a twin prop night fighter. The Soviets flight tested two He 219s, and after gave them to Czechoslovikia, who used them as jet engine test beds in the 1950s. The British similarly flight tested five Uhus before scrapping them.

Escort carrier USS Reaper carries a trove of Nazi aircraft to the US. The He 219s are in the back.

A Captured Owl that was sent to the United States, during flight testing. Upper camouflage is normal, but the sides feature some really unusual large poka-dots. This is the other Owl that was brought to the states.The FE at the start of the flight number means "Foreign Equipment."

A captured Owl at the Farnborough Air Show, 1946 or 47. 

 

That same airframe with USAF markings being flight tested. There are no records as to what happened to this airframe; while that almost certainly means it was scrapped, it is fun to imagine it still lurks in a government shed in Maryland somewhere. (Possibly next to the Ark that Indiana Jones found.)

                          The United States also flight tested the Uhus. Fortune would save one, as the American air force General 'Hap' Arnold suggested that the United States should save one of every aircraft its enemies tried to use against it. The He 219 'Uhu' now on display at the Smithsonian Uvar-Hazy museum in Washington, DC, is a A-2, captured in Jutland, Dennmark. Crated up in the late '40s, it spent several decades sitting next to the B-29 'Enola Gay' in a warehouse in Maryland. As of this writing (March of 2014) the restoration of this now unique airframe is nearly complete, and can be seen at the Smithsonian Udvar-Hazy museum in Washington, D.C. When fully restored, it will be the last example in all the world – a Owl that could have challenged the Allied Night bombers, had enough of them been built.

When the Nazis dreamed of their fighters next to atomic bombers, I doubt this is what they had in mind.

The He 219 today in Washington, D.C.

The Owl is quite unusual in that it has a tail radar detector, a useful device that for unclear reasons rarely made it onto the He 219. You can also get a good view of this grey-violet color I've been yammering on about.

The Story of the Heinkel 219 'Owl' I: A Fledgeling in Search of Parents

Here's that Analysis of Nazi Bureaucracy You Wanted

    Aircraft Procurement in the Third Reich was profoundly fucked up. To give you an idea as to how badly procurement failed, know that only in daytime fighters (the Bf 109 and the Fw 190) did the Reich manage to maintain parity with their opponents during the Second World War. Nearly every other airplane fielded by the Nazi state during was either obsolete or slowly became obsolete while waiting for a replacement. The Reich had three critical wartime procurement projects – the Me 210, the He 177, and the 'bomber b' project (a project to make a next generation medium bomber to replace the He 111, Do 217, and Ju 88) – fail abjectly, with the products of these programs being significantly delayed and often unusable. In 1941, 20% of Reich aircraft production was lost because of scheduling for new types to replace older ones, types that did not appear. These procurement failures were a key factor in the Luftwaffe's defeat.

    Much of the blame for this defeat lies with the leadership of the Reich Air Ministry (The Reichluftfahrtministerium, or RLM.) Both Hitler and Goering provided absolutely terrible leaders, with Hitler's ideas often a significant distance from reality, and Goering acting as a indolent yes-man to these wishes. RLM department heads were kept in conflict with one another (by the design of Goering, who was afraid his more industrious subordinates would ban together to take his position)  and were often unsuited to their posts. This is especially true of the man in charge of procurement at the RLM, Ernst Udet. While the shambles of Luftwaffe procurement programs was partially his fault, it is difficult to blame him too much. Udet meant well, and would pay a terrible price for taking the position.

    And he was a man of genuine talents. Ernst Udet was a war hero from World War one, the second highest scoring German ace after the Red Baron, Manfred Von Richthofen. (They both flew in JG 1, the 'Flying Circus', which was led after Richthofen's death by Hermann Goering.) In the 1920s, he took up barnstorming, and shooting aerial footage for movie studios on the side.  He also was a playboy, a very good cartoonist, and a skilled storyteller. Alas, none of these skills were useful as the head of procurement for an air force. How he got the job in the first place is a story in itself: After the Nazis came to power, they decided to recruit Udet to the party for the good press copy it would make (Udet being a national hero an' all.) Next, Udet was recruited into the air force; Udet didn't really want a Colonel’s commission, and had to be induced into joining with the gift of two Curtiss Hawk biplanes that Udet wanted, but couldn't afford. Then, Hitler and Goering one day were out nazing about when Hitler remarked: “That Udet must be one of our greatest aviation minds. We should make him head of procurement for the Luftwaffe.” Goering, instead of saying something like “Mien Fuhrer, he is an expert pilot and was the head of his own aviation firm, but he's no engineer”, said of course “Yes mien Fuhrer!” And so a guy who was only in the air force and Nazi party purely for propaganda purposes was given one of the most demanding positions in the whole RLM. Imagine Tom Cruise suddenly being made Secretary of the US Navy, and you can understand the skill mismatch.

Ernst Udet. Because of his score in the last war, he got all of his Nazi uniform DLC unlocked immediately

It should be said Udet's tenure was not entirely negative. He saw the Vulture-winged Ju 87 into production, (in fact, it was Udet's idea for the iconic 'Trumpets of Jericho' the Stuka was equipped with) and was the Luftwaffe's chief advocate for dive bombing. However, he also made the He 177 into a dive bomber, ensuring the program was a disaster, and kept pressing Messerschmidt to put the Me 210 into production, creating more production delays for the badly needed escort fighter. Unlike Goering, however, Udet understood the increasing gaps in Germany's air force, and felt that the reversal the Luftwaffe was dealt in the Battle of Britain was partially due to his procurement failings (viz. The Me 210 and the He 177.) Formerly a bon vivant, these failures (and the constant maneuverings of his rivals and the increasing blame he was taking for Germany's messed procurement) drove him over the fuzzy border from playboy to alcoholic. Udet also began to salt his alcoholism with a liberal dose of substance abuse. Ernst Heinkel met Udet during the Blitz, and later wrote “...I hardly recognized him. He looked bloated and sallow, as if he was being torn to pieces inside. [...]He was suffering from a irremedical buzzing in his ears and bleeding from his lungs and gums” which Heinkel thought was from Udet's poor diet of nothing but meat, and his constant intake of booze and cigarettes. Goering tried to send him to a health spa after Heinkel's interview, but Udet returned within days due to anxiety as to what Ernst Milch would pull while he was away.

    A rival of Udet's at the RLM, Ernst Milch, as head of manufacturing, was the only top RLM official who had some qualifications to be in his position. Milch was the founder of Lufthansa, and had many years experience in management. Detail oriented and with an excellent grasp of numbers, Milch was instrumental in rebuilding the Luftwaffe. In fact, he was so instrumental that Goering would periodically mess with his position and take away his powers, as he was a little too good at his job. This is a actual, real conversation those two had at one point. Goering (who had a love of titles) had just taken several of Milch's responsibilities onto himself:

Milch: You are ruining the Air Force this way. Somebody has to be in charge of everything. If I don't do it, you will have to...but you won't.”

Goering:  “From this day forward I will actually live up to my responsibilities. Honest!”

Milch: “I don't believe it. I request to be relieved of my post.”

Goering: “Look here, Milch, I'm not demoting you because you have failed, but because you've succeeded too well. The Party keeps telling me that it's Milch who does all the work. And I won't stand for that.”

Goering: “Oh and your request? Denied.”

Ernst Milch.

Milch is to be the villain in the story of the He 219 that I'm slowly getting around to, though his essential objection to the program at least had reason behind it. For Milnch rarely acted without reason – one can think of him as the Nazi Robert S. Macnamara. Milnch was very conscious of the limited production facilities Germany had, even with its stated goal at the time: taking Lebenstrum from the Slavic countries while protecting itself from interference from France and Great Britain. His solution to this problem was fairly rational – develop a few multipurpose aircraft to maximize Germany's industrial base.  He was unlike Macnamara in that he was at heart rather insecure: as a man who had accomplished big things, and he was always fearful of events reducing his position. Unfailing courteous to subordinates, he would freak out if he felt on of his colleagues was trying to undermine him. So while he was mostly a level headed, intelligent administrator, the drama of the Third Reich often got to him, which didn't help his working relationships. Another flaw was his obsession with rationalizing production, which he viewed as a priority outstripping all other considerations. This had two effects: it mostly choked off the development of new aircraft after the late thirties, as Milch always preferred to get existing airframes to be modified for new conditions rather than developing new aircraft. Milch also had the tendency to say a certain airframe was 'good enough' for the job it was doing, and it often was – for the present. The future, however, was not prepared for. This obsession with rational production would also leave Milch making decisions that looked good on paper, but were utterly terrible in the real world of wartime production. This seems to be aided and abetted by Milnch being a numbers guy, not an engineer. He often had unrealistic ideas as to what a airframe could be modified to do (a trait that is quite Macnamera). For example, in answer to the B-29 threat of 1943, Milnch wanted to modify the (obsolete) Bf 110 into a high altitude interceptor. Milnch was also, without realizing it, making a very risky gamble: he was betting that Germany could win a war with its existing aircraft types, and the enemy would not develop better ones. This was, of course, a bet the entire Reich was to loose.

    As a result of Udet and Milch at start of the war, the Luftwaffe was a excellent close support weapon, though lacking in most other functions, especially any that required airframes very different from the fighter/close support/medium bomber role. Some of these failures (viz. The Fw 200 Condor) you may remember.

    Anyway, this is a long walk to expand on the point we started with: the Luftwaffe procurement was profoundly fucked up. This stroll through the fascist procurement garden is critical as these failures did not change throughout World War 2, informing the development and deployment of the He 219. It was failures of procurement that lead for the He 219 to be put into production in the first place, and it was this garden of failure that kept it from being deployed in large numbers. With the assistant gardeners all fighting each other and the head gardener mostly interested in his opium poppies, it's no wonder that the garden itself turned out a wasteful mess.

    And that's before other people started breaking into the Garden and setting bits of it on fire.

Prototyping Owls

    So with that background of chaos and confusion, meet the unlikely father of the He 219: the He 119. (That name is about the last logical progression for some time, so please savor it.)

The He 119 was a 1937 project by Heinkel to test out modern ideas about aerodynamics. It featured a glass nose like the He 111, but mounted the prop directly in front of the nose, the drive shaft bisecting the cockpit. Powered by twin DB 601 engines mounted in the fuselage, it actually did set a record in 1937, flying 505 km/h with a payload of 1,000 kg  over a distance of 1,000 km. Heinkel, of course, dreamed of selling a version to the military, but at the time, DB 601s were essentially unobtainable. Several years before the invasion of Poland, the German aircraft industry found itself in chaos. Hitler and the Luftwaffe had drawn up plans for an adequate air force, and the sheer resources it would take were beyond German means. (One early plan included a large strategic bomber force, so large that the paper air force would have required 85% of the world's aviation fuel production to supply it.) The result was a push for numbers, while test programs were curtailed as an economy measure. In that context, there was no room for a recon plane with the same engines as a Bf 110. Two He 119s were sold to Japan, where the ideas were later adapted into a  Japanese X-plane, the Yokosuka R2Y Keiun . The remaining airframes served as engine test-beds.

    During its time as an engine tester, the He 119 flew with a true monster of internal combustion powering it: the DB 613. The power plant for the He 177 heavy bomber Heinkel was developing, they were DB 601 V12s mounted side by side in a single engine block. Displacing 67.8 liters and supercharged, this engine made 2000 hp. (Interestingly, this engine would later become infamous for engine fires, but in the He 119 the DB 613 had been tested till it ran like a Teutonic Packard.) Heinkel saw opportunity in this high performance configuration, and in April 1940, he pitched the RLM an enlarged and improved He 119, powered by an improved DB 613. A private venture by Heinkel, the P.1055, as the prototype was known, was to have been a high speed, high altitude reconnaissance plane, and featured the latest in aviation technology. It had tricycle landing gear, a pressurized cabin, and provisions for compressed air ejection seats which had been developed for the He 280 jet fighter prototype. Other features included a contra-rotating propeller and further engine tweaks, adding a combined supercharger-turbocharger with methanol-water injection for superior high altitude performance, producing an (estimated) 3,500 horsepower. For defense, it was to have twin remote turrets instead of a tail gunner. With great aerodynamics and a heavy bomber engine powering it, P.1055 was projected to have performance like that of a later-era De Havilland Mosquito: a 700 km/h top speed with a 3,500 km range. The war situation was so rosy for Germany at this point initial pitches emphasized that P.1055 would be useful post war as a long range mapping plane, when Germany would own vast chunks of Africa, the mideast, and various other untermenchen lands. A few of these features would show up in the production He 219; specifically the twin tail, the pressurized cabin, and the tricycle landing gear.

    The RLM showed some interest in P.1055, but was also non-committal. The main hangup for the RLM was the new technology involved, which would mean that P.1055 would only enter service in 1943, if not later. The RLM by this point had jet engine technology under development, they worried that the new aircraft might be superseded by jet designs by the time it entered service.

    Meanwhile, Germany had started World War 2 with almost nothing set aside for defending the night sky. Some daytime Bf 109s and some ancient Arado biplanes was the sum total of night defenses. This was to last until the British began attacking at night in almost entirely ineffectual raids, shortly after the fall of France. These raids were started by the British mostly for morale reasons - the besieged people of Great Britain wanted to know they were striking back somehow - and were roughly as effective as Zeppelin raids during the previous war. None the less, this new threat was a political liability, if nothing else, in the eyes of Hitler, and Luftwaffe General Joesef Kannhuber was given the job of building night defenses for continental Europe.

    Joesef Kammhuber is another important character in the He 219 story. He first built an innovative night air defense grid that stretched from Denmark to the Swiss border, later to be known as the Kammhuber line. He also, astonishingly, nearly defeated Allied Night bombers before they could wreak havoc on Germany. Intercepting British bombers as they returned to their home airfields from their nocturnal raids, Kammhuber's small force of Ju 88 intruder fighters caused such casualties that the British were considering halting night raids completely. Then, Hiter intervened, and ordered Kammhuber to stop. “Germans must see the enemy bombers shot down” Hitler stated. Hitler also pointed out that the raids were increasing, not decreasing, and therefore the intruder raids were pointless.  What Kammhuber thought of this is not recorded. The Allies much later in the war were to take up these tactics against German aircraft to devastating effect.

A early failed idea at night defense: a grid is made in the sky by many spotlights, making aiming more accurate by AA guns.

Anyway, General Kammhuber was not only a competent officer, but one who worried a fair bit about the potential of air raids against Germany. He was unsatisfied with the types of aircraft available to the night fighter divisions (Nachtjagddivisions or NJGs) since he had first formed them. While the Bf 110s and Donier 17s were more than capable of shooting down the twin engine Wellingtons, Hampdens and Whitelys the RAF was attacking with, new planes were already appearing. The four engined Sterling and Halifax bombers were now flying, as was a new twin engine bomber, the  Manchester. More pressing to Kammhuber, only the Bf 110 was actually a fighter in any sense; and it was being allocated to him as the Bf 110 proved too vulnerable to Allied fighters to actually work in the escort fighter role. The rest of the NJG's planes were fast medium bombers (Do 17s, and Do 217s, along with a few Ju 88s): gunships capable of effectively blowing heavy bombers out of the sky, but vulnerable to escort fighters should the British start fielding them. So, Kammhuber wanted a purpose-built night fighter: one with twin engines, stable with good maneuverability, extensive glazing for better visibility, and weapons mounted out of the crews field of view, so the flash would not ruin their night vision. It was to put the term “fighter” back in night-fighter. To this end, Kammhuber had taken the daring step of going directly to Hitler with his dreams of a purpose-built night fighter. Hitler was impressed with Kammhuber's arguments, and gave the General the resources to pursue procurement outside the RLM.

NJG 1's Bf 110s.

Back at the Heinkel works, in August 1940, Heinkel tried again to spark interest by offering several alternative takes on P.1055, which tried to show that the technological risk could be hedged as much or as little as the RLM desired. Alternate takes on the prototype imagined it as a Zerstorer (long range heavy escort, like the Bf 110), or as a fast high altitude bomber.  Heinkel was unlucky in the timing of this new proposals. For one, diversification of this odd prototype just made it nearer several designs already under development elsewhere. The Arado A240 had already flown, and it featured  a pressurized cabin, good high altitude performance, and remote tail turrets. Fast bombers were also under development in the aforementioned bomber B series. And, the Luftwaffe had already put enormous resources toward the successor of the Bf 110 – the Me 210, which was too big to fail. It was not only to replace the Bf 110, but also the Ju 87 Stuka and the Hs 193. (Like some other multi-role too big to fail aircraft, it would turn into a disaster.)


    The RLM was still admittedly interested in a reconnaissance plane, and despite emphasizing to Heinkel that he should concentrate on that aspect alone, P.1055 went forward as a concept as a recon flyer and as a fast bomber/destroyer. (I suspect Heinkel saw an opportunity to, shall we say, schnorr in on the Destroyer Market, especially as the Bf 110's days were known to be numbered and the Me 210 procurement was not going well. Heinkel also no doubt knew Milch loved a multi-role aircraft, which was of course more 'rational' than a bespoke airplane.) For about a year between mid 1940 and mid 1941, meeting were held where the two sides tried to hammer out what the basic performance numbers should be, all while Heinkel received many notes from the RLM, like a dizzy Hollywood producer commenting on a screenplay. It went something like this:

• Right now the weapons for defense is inadequate, being one rear mounted machine gun and twin machine guns in the wings. We need to fix this. I think remote control turrets are the answer.
•  Also, consideration must be given that while this plane would be untouchable now, by the end of 1942 the enemy might have jet fighters. So we need to give this aircraft the same defensive abilities as a heavy bomber.
• We should consider also making this aircraft able to operate over the North Atlantic. What kind of de-icing options do we have?
• I just got back from lunch with my menchen (we may have had some beer with our snitzel) and we're wondering if it can land on water. U-Boat resupply?! 
•  I like this variable wing area idea by having modular interchangeable outer wing panels.
•  P.1055  should have six (6) remotely controlled turrets, three above, and three below. The third crewman will operate all six. This will allow formations of P.1055s to create a 'hedgehog' of fire to protect bombers in the escort role. 
• Turrets will be aimed via periscope. 
•  Add two more gun emplacements above and below to this puppy. Gun emplacements now eight (8).
•  Shit, that's a lot of turrets. Make them retractable for less drag. 
•  Actually, maybe we should cut down on the turrets. We want this thing to be fast as hell.
• Keep the armor though, as if the enemy gets jets, only a armored, armed recon plane will make any sense. Have fewer turrets, but make each turret bigger and more powerful. 
• Axe the bomb bay, I'm just not feeling it anymore.

P.1055 at its insanity apex, from the excellent book Luftwaffe Secret Projects Vol. 2: Ground Attack and Special Purpose Aircraft.

P.1055 is written down in the big book of Nazi war production, the official name is: He 219.

Let's move the props to the wings but keep the internal fuselage engine. Easier to arm that way.

OK, I guess the fuselage engine isn't working, let's move 'em to the wings with the props. Can't be original all of the time : /

Got your note: re: should the new plane be the He 250 or something as it's not really like the He 119 anymore. Let me get back to you on that.

Our boss, Gen. Udet, is coming for a visit. Sparkle, baby!

Udet's vist was to discuss with old man Heinkel the state of war production, and the progress of the He 177 and the He 280. Heinkel of course showed the RLM head of procurement the P.1055. Udet was very impressed; the man might have been a dilettante, but he understood the gaps in Germany's aerial lineup. He then did something that is all by itself a good example as to how badly Reich war production was messed up: the head of aircraft procurement in the Reich phoned  General Kammhuber and told him that Heinkel had a prototype that might just be the aircraft that the General wanted to build. 

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When Udet told him about Heinkel's prototype, Kammhuber immediately sent a posse of his veteran night fighter pilots to Heinkel to check out the He 219 project, where they reported favorably. Kammhuber visited the factory next, and also was very impressed. Heinkel now had a backer and a direction for He 219 – as a purpose built night fighter. Some of the other ideas for the He 219, specifically making a reconnaissance or a fast bomber version were never entirely dropped, but were not worked on after this.

     Once it found its center, the He 219 became one of the few drama-free Luftwaffe procurement programs. This is quite impressive, especially considering that the He 219 did have some genuinely revolutionary details: it was the first operational combat aircraft to employ an ejection seat, and also Germany's first combat aircraft to enter production that had cabin pressurization. It was also the first Luftwaffe warbird to be built with radar installation explicitly in mind.

That its development was straightforward was partially Heinkel's influence –  up until now, Heinkel had been spending his own money developing the He 219, and wanted a return now that a sponsor had been found. Heinkel also was interested in building a fighter because he considered himself the 'king of speed' among German aeronautical engineers, and had up until this point been denied a chance to build a really fast fighting machine. The development of the He 219 was very unusual in other respects as well.  The commander who's units were going to use the aircraft was directly involved in its production.  In addition, extensive input came from the night-fighter pilots who were going to be using it on the front line, the only Third Reich program that I know of that benefited from this.  These factors made the prototyping of the Owl admirably focused.

    In October 1941, a High Level meeting of the German General Staff convened at the Heinkel works to discuss Heinkel's projects – the old He 111 medium bomber, the He 177 heavy bomber, the He 280 jet fighter, and the He 219. When it came to production of the specialist night fighter, the committee, in agreement with the RLM, had a logical view:

    “Given the way the war is now developing (IE the Nazi invasion of the USSR this summer), we cannot match the production capacity of America and England. In order to continue the war successfully, we must build quality aircraft at the cost of quantity. The air force cannot afford to loose its air crews, who in addition to their level of training possess extensive front line experience, because we given them aircraft that are inferior to the enemy...”

This was an astute observation. In the face of a materially superior enemy, German war planners hoped technology could carry the day. But they also ran completely contrary to Milch's perspective, who never gave up hope that a 'good enough' production solution could be found. Trouble was brewing.

    Udet might have been able to be a counter to Milch's interference, but his tenure and his life ended but a month later. Haunted by premonitions of death, Udet's health declined from Heinkel's description, and with the invasion of the USSR, the already overtaxed aviation industry had its burdens redoubled. Udet could take the strain no longer,  and shot himself while on the phone to his mistress on the 17th of November, 1941. Milch and Goering were profoundly upset at Udet's suicide. Despite their professional friction, they had (like all that knew him) always liked Udet as a man.

The Owl that Would Hoot in the Night

    I'm spending a shitload of time here describing the procurement follies of the Third Reich, so let me go into a little detail now about the He 219 as a warplane.

    First, it was fast. The exotic DB 613(+) engines proved to be vaporware, and Heinkel substituted the DB 603 for them. The DB 603, even as a second choice, was quite an engine: an enlarged improvement on the DB 601, they were an  inverted V12 displacing 44 L, making 1500 horsepower. Dalmier-Benz also added a supercharger for better high altitude performance. The DB 603s  powered several later war projects, including the Me 410, the Do 335, and the Ta 152 – and in a very 'one of these things is not like the other' deal,  the Maus super tank prototypes. The He 219 could fly 600 km/h – the only night-fighter the Nazis deployed capable of keeping up with the De Havilland Mosquito. This top speed was also 100 km/h faster than the Ju 88 in night-fighter trim.  As it came together, the He 219 also had a hell of a lot of firepower – only slightly less than those American B-25s that used to machine gun merchant ships to death in the Pacific. The ventral tray mounted four 20mm rapid fire cannons, and in the wings were mounted two more 20mm cannons to add to the killing power, just 'cause. Early in 1943, 'Slanted music' mounts had been adopted by German night fighters - slanted music being a gun emplacement pointed upward at anywhere from 45 to 75 degrees. (British heavy bombers had no downward facing turrets, and thus were particularly vulnerable to attack from below.) The He 219 became the first aircraft built to have such a mount as standard. Its angled gun mount could handle just about anything, from twin heavy machine guns to the twin 30mm cannons mentioned earlier. This is some very heavy artillery for shooting down airplanes. One or two shells from the 30mm was often sufficient to kill even a B-17 Flying Fortress. The jackhammer-like sound of this cannon firing would soon be feared by Allied bomber crews. The 30mm Mk. 103's only disadvantage – and something veteran crews disliked – was its short range. Unnerving enough when attacking something as heavily defended as a heavy bomber; downright scary when attacking said bomber from below.

    It should be noted that there is no 'correct' weapons load-out for the He 219 – spot shortages, even pilot preference, lead to substitutions and omissions. Markings too were widely variable, thanks to the practice of the Luftwaffe allowing units in the field to repaint aircraft however they wanted. Uhus started off light grey, often with dark grey or grey-violet dots or stripes. (The He 219 at the Smithsonian Aviation Museum is grey-on-grey violet on its upper surfaces.) Unlike other night fighters fielded, the He 219 had excellent flying characteristics, being maneuverable, yet stable and forgiving. (One pilot described the He 219 as 'old man flying' as you could just fly it without much effort. The Bf 110, in contrast, had to be trimmed constantly.)

    The main problem with the He 219 was numbers. As wikipedia could tell you, only about 300 airframes were produced till the end of the war. While doing my reading for this infodump, I found that this number sounds larger than the real life result. Only one wing of one squadron (1./NJG 1) was ever fully equipped with He 219s in early 1944. Other wings (2./NJG 1 and 3./NJG 1) were significant users. Only one wing outside of NJG 1, NJG 10, an experimental night-fighter wing, could count themselves as actual operators of the He 219. Many other NJGs received He 219s in twos and threes, for training when their respective squadrons were re-equipped with the new night fighter, but in practice this change-over never happened. Another fact is telling about the Owl: nearly 1/3rd of the 300 built were A-0s – that is, pre-production prototypes.

    Variants of the He 219 were few, mainly being iterations on a basic theme. The types that were actually used or existed in a meaningful sense were:

He 219 A-2: Similar to the A-0, but with more endurance and slightly more powerful engines. (DB 603 AAs) Produced 1944 till the A-7 production started in November '44.

He 219 A-7: Once again, similar to the A-2, with a later version of the DB 603, the DB 603E. Produced November '44 onwards.

He 219 A-7 D-1: Five airframes that were delivered with Jumo 213E engines in 1945. These engines could generate the magic number of 2000 hp each, giving five He 219s the performance originally envisioned by Heinkel. The Jumo 213E was in heavy demand by late war German aircraft, being used by the Ju 188, the D version of the Fw 190 and its cousin, the Ta 152, and the German rival of the Owl - the spectacularly useless Ta 154.

Hutter Hu 211: Using the He 219 airframe, Hutter (a German manufacturer specializing in gliders) was going to modify the He 219 with very large wooden wings to make a high altitude reconnaissance plane. This project was abandoned when the two prototypes were destroyed in an allied air raid, a common end to late war Nazi aviation projects.

It should be noted that had the RLM or Luftwaffe deemed it necessary, the He 219 could have had the magic Jumo engines at nearly any point in its production. However, and the Luftwaffe deemed fast bombers, day fighters, and a few vaporware prototypes more important. The other limiting factor in He 219 production was something that in the thumbnail sketches you find in "German Aircraft of the Second World War" books you  find described as 'production difficulties.' We will be covering these difficulties in some detail...

Part 2 is here:Combat and Bird Puns

 Initial Prototypes in night fighter black. Planned four-blade propeller did not reach production.