“So these are the requirements for the new aircraft…”
As Chief of the Luftwaffe Technical Office, I quietly read through the specifications Göring had handed me.
New Attack Aircraft
Twin-engine design.
Must be adaptable to both single-seat and two-seat variants with only minimal modifications.
The light bomber version must carry four 250 kg bombs internally, with an additional 250 kg bomb mounted under each inner wing.
The attack version must be capable of carrying an 800 kg aerial torpedo beneath the fuselage.
With four 250 kg bombs, it must have a range of at least 2,000 kilometers.
Must be compatible with drop tanks.
No rear defensive gun.
The light bomber version must exceed 500 km/h when carrying bombs only in its internal bomb bay.
The heavy fighter version must exceed 550 km/h.
The heavy fighter version must mount either six medium-caliber machine guns or four large-caliber cannons in the nose.
If necessary, the fuel tanks in the outer wings must be replaceable with two medium-caliber machine guns per side.
Dive bombing capability is not required.
“The Führer intends for this aircraft to combine the roles of heavy fighter and light bomber.
Udet, pass these specifications on to the manufacturers.”
“Field Marshal Göring, I understand the thinking behind this attack aircraft.
But…
are we really going ahead with the heavy bomber program as well?”
It was Kesselring, Director of the Air Administration Office, who voiced the question.
He had been given the specifications as well.
(The Director has always favored light bombers.)
Kesselring believed tactical bombing was more important than strategic bombing.
I had always thought the Luftwaffe’s primary mission was supporting the Army.
In my mind, dive bombers—especially the Stuka—were the true backbone of our bomber force.
But it seemed the Führer had something entirely different in mind.
New Heavy Bomber
Four-engine aircraft.
Must carry either twelve 250 kg bombs or ten 500 kg bombs.
Minimum range of 3,500 kilometers.
Maximum speed of at least 450 km/h at full combat weight.
Vital sections must be protected against medium-caliber machine-gun fire.
High-wing configuration.
Tricycle landing gear.
Rather than emphasizing numerous gun turrets, priority should be given to armor protection and speed.
A transport variant should also be developed.
There was no mistaking it—it was a true heavy bomber.
For the confined skies of Europe, its range was more than sufficient.
If Germany could deploy such bombers in large numbers, it might be enough to decide an entire war on their own.
(But the problem is…)
“Can the Reich really afford to produce such bombers in large numbers?”
The words slipped out before I realized it.
A four-engine bomber meant exactly that—four aircraft engines.
It sounded obvious, but aircraft engines were nothing like automobile engines.
Even the smaller ones displaced several times more than a car engine, while being designed for maximum power with minimum weight.
Their service life was correspondingly short.
Perhaps the industrial giant across the ocean, overflowing with automobiles and engine factories, could manage such production.
But the Reich, as it stood today, seemed far from capable.
(And as Technical Director, I’ll be the one responsible for making it happen.)
I was Ernst Udet, Chief of the Luftwaffe Technical Office.
It would be my responsibility to turn these designs into reality and deliver them to operational squadrons.
(I never should have accepted this position…)
I’d only taken the post a few months earlier.
I’d even tried to decline when Göring first offered it.
“So…
that’s why the Führer wants to overhaul our standard engine program?”
Kesselring muttered quietly.
Normally known as “Smiling Albert,” even he wore a troubled expression.
His words suddenly made everything click.
“Exactly,” Göring said.
“Everything the Führer has directed over the past few weeks follows the same logic.
Every piece fits together into a single, coherent system.
If it all works, the Reich’s industrial strength—and its ability to wage war—will increase dramatically.”
His face practically glowed.
It was a complete contrast to the funeral-like expression he’d worn immediately after the aircraft trials.
(Still…
there’s no denying how difficult these demands are.)
One example was the standardization of Junkers and Daimler engines.
The Führer had ordered the two companies to standardize components on their next generation of engines.
More than that, he wanted the generation after the DB 601 and Jumo 211 to be developed jointly by both firms.
In other words, he was effectively ordering two rival companies to lay all of their technical secrets on the table.
Ordinarily, that would be impossible.
(But that’s why he’s involving the Ministry of Economics.)
The ministry controlled the allocation of raw materials.
Germany lacked the foreign currency to let manufacturers freely import whatever they needed.
Working hand in hand with the Luftwaffe, the ministry could force the issue through sheer administrative authority.
At the same time, it looked as though the number of aircraft types would be drastically reduced.
The new light bomber would eventually replace aircraft like the He 111 and Do 17, while the heavy bomber—and its transport variant—would take over the Luftwaffe’s long-range bombing and transport missions.
Fewer aircraft types meant fewer manufacturers producing different designs.
The Führer seemed aware of the consequences, however.
By pushing standardized components, companies could still keep their production lines running through licensed manufacturing.
(The balance of power within Germany’s aviation industry may be about to change completely.)
With that thought lingering in the back of my mind, I continued planning the program alongside Göring and Kesselring.
Author’s Note
The aircraft performance is basically meant to resemble something like the de Havilland Mosquito for the attack aircraft and the B-17 Flying Fortress for the heavy bomber.
The finer details will be revealed in a later chapter.