Guys,
One of my squadmates (Wlvrn) sent this out to the squad this afternoon. Includes an interesting account of the classic Stang vs 109 matchup and answers some questions regarding gunnery, speed and compression issues. Anyway, dont think of this as an answer, just enjoy it for what it is....a good documentary.
[bold]Lawrence Thompson meets Hartmann's G-14[/bold]
".... this was my first major dogfight I had in the war, in January 1945. I
was flying a P-51D and we were supposed to meet with bombers over Romania.
Well, the bombers never showed up! and we kept circling and wasting our
fuel. When we were low on fuel the squadron leader orders us back to base,
with the top group at 24,000 feet and the four bait Mustangs ordered to
15,000 feet. Now you might not really think about it, but the difference in
altitude, 9,000 feet, is almost two miles, and assuming that the top flight
could dive and rescue the 'bait' airplanes, it might take a full sixty
seconds or more for the top group to come to the rescue. A heck of alot can
happen in sixty seconds. Earlier, I requested to fly in the bait section
believing that I'd have a better chance to get some scores (at that time I
had no victories either) and this was my seventh mission. I have to say now
that I grew up in Kansas City, Kansas, and my older brother flew a Jenny
biplane in the late 1930s, so I learned the basics of flying even before
joining the Army. So we're all heading back to Italy when, all of a sudden,
a dozen or so Me109's bounce us. From one moment it's a clear blue sky, next
moment there are dozens' of tracers passing my cockpit. I'm hit several
times and I roll over to the right, and below me is an P-51, heading for the
deck, with an Me109 chasing him. I begin to chase the Me109. All this time I
believe there was another Me109 chasing me! It was a racetrack, all four of
us were racing for the finish line! Eventually I caught up with the first
Me109 and I fired a long burst at about 1,000 yards, to no effect. Then I
waited until about 600 yards, I fired two very long bursts, probably five
seconds each (P-51 has ammo for about 18 seconds of continuous bursts for
four machine guns, the remaining two machine guns will shoot for about 24
sec-onds). I noticed that part of his engine cowling flew off and he
immediately broke off his attack on the lead P-51. I check my rear view
mirrors and there's nothing behind me now; somehow, I have managed to lose
the Me109 following me, probably because the diving speed of the P-51 is
sixty mph faster than the Me109. So I pull up on the yoke and level out;
suddenly a Me109 loomes about as large as a barn door right in front of me!
And he fires his guns at me, and he rolls to the right, in a Lufberry
circle. I peel off, following this Me109. I can see silver P-51s and black
nosed camouflaged painted Me109s everywhere I look, there's Me109 or P-51
everywhere! At this time I cannot get on the transmitter and talk, everyone
else in the squadron is yelling and talking, and there's nothing but
yelling, screaming, and incoherent interference as everyone presses their
mike buttons at the same time. I can smell something in the cockpit.
Hydraulic fluid! I knew I got hit earlier.
.... I'm still following this Me109. I just got my first confirmed kill of
my tour, and now I'm really hot. I believe that I am the hottest pilot in
the USAAF! And now I'm thinking to myself: am I going to shoot this Me109
down too?! He rolls and we turn, and turn; somehow, I cannot catch up with
him in the Lufberry circle, we just keep circling. About the third 360
degree turn he and I must have spotted two Mustangs flying below us, about
2,000 feet below, and he dives for the two P-51s. Now I'm about 150 yards
from him, and I get my gunsight on his tail, but I cannot shoot, because if
I shoot wide, or my bullets pass through him, I might shoot down one or both
P-51s, so I get a front seat, watching, fearful that this guy will shoot
down a P-51 we're approaching at about 390 mph. There's so much interference
on the R/T I cannot warn the two Mustangs, I fire one very long burst of
about seven or eight seconds purposely wide, so it misses the Mustangs, and
the Me109 pilot can see the tracers. None of the Mustang pilots see the
tracers either! I was half hoping expecting that they'd see my tracers and
turn out of the way of the diving Me109. But no such luck. I quit firing.
The Me109 still dives, and as he approaches the two P-51s he holds his fire,
and as the gap closes, two hundred yards, one hundred yards, fifty yards the
Hun does not fire a shot. No tracers, nothing! At less than ten yards, it
looks like he's go-ing to ram the lead P-51 and the Hun fires one single
shot from his 20mm cannon! And Bang! Engine parts, white smoke, glycol,
whatnot from the lead P-51 is everywhere, and that unfortunate Mustang
begins a gentle roll to the right. I try to watch the Mustang down, but
cannot, Now my full at-tention is on the Hun! Zoom. We fly through the two
Mustangs (he was taken POW). Now the advantage of the P-51 is really
apparent, as in a dive I am catching up to the Me109 faster than a runaway
freight train. I press the trigger for only a second then I let up on the
trigger, I believe at that time I was about 250 yards distant, but the Hun
was really pulling lots' of negative and positive g's and pulling up to the
horizon, he levels out and then does a vertical tail stand! and next thing I
know, he's using his built up velocity from the dive to make a vertical
ninety degree climb. This guy is really an experienced pilot. I'm in a
vertical climb, and my P-51 begins to roll clockwise violently, only by
pushing my left rudder almost through the floor can I stop my P-51 from
turning. We climb for altitude; in the straight climb that Me109 begins to
out distance me, though my built up diving speed makes us about equal in the
climb. We climb one thousand fifteen hundred feet, and at eighteen hundred
feet, the hun levels his aircraft out. A vertical climb of 1,800 feet! I've
never heard of a piston aircraft climbing more than 1,000 feet in a tail
stand. At this time we're both down to stall speed, and he levels out. My
airspeed indicator reads less than 90 mph! So we level out. I'm really close
now to the Me109, less than twenty five yards! Now if I can get my guns on
him.........
At this range, the gunsight is more of nuisance than a help. Next thing, he
dumps his flaps fast and I begin to overshoot him! That's not what I want to
do, because then he can bear his guns on me. The P-51 has good armor, but
not good enough to stop 20mm cannon hits. This Luftwaffe pilot must be one
heck of a marksman, I just witnessed him shooting down a P-51 with a single
20mm cannon shot! So I do the same thing, I dump my flaps, and as I start to
overshoot him, I pull my nose up, this really slows me down; S-T-A-L-L
warning comes on! and I can't see anything ahead of me nor in the rear view
mirror. Now I'm sweating everywhere. My eyes are burning because salty sweat
keeps blinding me: 'Where is He!?!' I shout to myself. I level out to
prevent from stalling. And there he is. Flying on my right side. We are
flying side to side, less than twenty feet separates our wingtips. He's
smiling and laughing at himself. I notice that he has a black heart painted
on his aircraft, just below the cockpit. The propeller nose and spinner are
also painted black. It's my guess that he's a very experienced ace from the
Russian front. His tail has a number painted on it: "200". I wonder: what
the "two hundred" means!? Now I began to examine his airplane for any bullet
hits, afterall, I estimate that I just fired 1,600 rounds at the hun. I
cannot see a single bullet hole in his aircraft! I could swear that I must
have gotten at least a dozen hits! I keep inspecting his aircraft for any
damage. One time, he even lifts his left wing about 15 degrees, to let me
see the undercar-riage, still no hits! That's impossible I tell myself.
Totally impossible. Then I turn my attention back to the "200" which is
painted on the tail rudder. German aces normally paint a marker for each
victory on their tail. It dawns on me that quick: TWO HUNDRED KILLS !! We
fly side by side for five minutes. Those five minutes take centuries to
pass. Less than twenty five feet away from me is a Luftwaffe ace, with over
two hundred kills. We had been in a slow gradual dive now, and my altitude
indicates 8,000 feet. I'm panicking now, even my socks are soaked in sweat.
The German pilot points at his tail, obviously meaning the "200" victories,
and then very slowly and dramatically makes a knife-cutting motion across
his throat, and points at me. He's telling me in sign language that I'm
going to be his 201 kill! Panic! I'm breathing so hard, it sounds like a
wind tunnel with my mask on. My heart rate must have doubled to 170 beats
per minute; I can feel my chest, thump-thump and so. This goes on for
centuries, and centuries. The two of us flying at stall speed, wingtip to
wingtip. I think more than once of simply ramming him. He keeps watching my
ailerons, maybe that's what he expects me to do. We had heard of desperate
pilots who, after running out of ammunition, would commit suicide by ramming
an enemy plane. Then I decide that I can Immelmann out of the situation, as
I began to climb, but because my flaps are down, my Mustang only climbs
about one hundred feet, pitches over violently to the right and stalls. The
next instant I'm dangerously spinning, heading ninety degrees vertically
down! And the IAS reads 300 mph! My P-51 just falls like a rock to the
earth! I hold the yoke in the lower left corner and sit on the left rudder,
flaps up, and apply FULL POWER! I pull out of the dive at about 500 feet,
level out, (I began to black out so with my left hand I pinched my veins in
my neck to stop from losing blood). I scan the sky for anything! There's not
a plane in the sky, I dive to about fifty feet elevation, heading towards
Italy. I fly at maximum power for about ten minutes, and then reduce my rpm
(to save gasoline), otherwise the P-51 has very limited range at full power.
I fly like this for maybe an hour, no planes in the vicinity; all the time I
scan the sky, check my rear view mirrors.
I never saw the Me109 with the black heart again. I mention the Me109 with
the black heart and "200" written on the tail. That's when the whole room, I
mean everybody, gets instantly quiet. Like you could hear a pin drop. Two
weeks later the base commander shows me a telex: "....according to
intelligence, the German pilot with a black heart is Eric Hartmann who has
downed 250 aircraft and there is a reward of fifty thousand dollars offered
by Stalin for shooting him down. I never heard of a cash reward for shooting
down an enemy ace ... "
-Lawrence Thompson
Eric Hartmann, called "the Blond Knight of Germany", survived the war with
352 victories
