Devils with Wings (28 page)

On the left bank of the canal, twenty gliders would land right in the middle of the defences covering the bridges at Veldwezelt and Vroenhoven, the objective being to cut the cables to the bridge demolition charges and the telephone lines. A further detachment was to land at Canne and a detachment of eleven gliders was to land on top of Fort Eben Emael itself.

The force was ready to complete its task and the aircraft were taking off from Ostheim airport as planned.

With all her engines roaring at full boost the Junkers hauled at the glider behind it, enticing it to finally let go of its link with the ground, ferrying its passengers, eight determined men with their equipment, explosives and courage, to the Belgian coast.

The Junkers three B.M.W radial piston engines strained, the aircraft struggling to keep itself in the air at its lower speed of two hundred kilometres per hour whilst pulling the heavy, barely airworthy glider, the Deutsches Forschungsinstitut fur Segelflug, DFS 230A behind it in tow. Storm Group Granite flew towards Denmark in an arrow formation, in three groups of three planes each, and one group of two.

A group of three aircraft was called a ‘kette’, and a group of ‘kettes’ a chain. Normally a Junkers used in a parachute drop would carry a troop of paratroopers, but on this occasion they were mere spectators, their silent companions towed behind them in this instance, would be taking the Fallschirmjager into battle.

They slowly circled over Ostheim airfield, gradually gaining height before they flew west to form up with Group Steel.

The two glider flotillas met up and continued with their flight west, the pilots following a marked flight path, leading them to the release point for the attack. Groups Granit (Granite), Eisen (Iron) and Beton (Concrete) took off from Ostheim, Group Stahl (Steel) from Butzweilerhaf.

The Junker pilot of the lead plane, peered out of the cockpit window into the gloom of this early spring morning, a great deal of responsibility resting on his shoulders.

He was an experienced pilot, and the lead pilot of the formation, with at least five years experience flying transport aircraft like these. Saying that, until this operation was instigated he had never towed a glider let alone towed one into battle.

He, and his co-pilot, were watching out for the markers put into position on their route, to guide them to the target area and the release point for the gliders.

His co-pilot pointed to the first rotating beacon, “there it is we’re bang on line.”

The rotating beacon was their first marker point, and could be seen passing their port side.

“There’s the searchlight too,” indicated the pilot, “check the timing will you?”

The searchlight light disappeared and the co-pilot started counting the seconds on his watch.

“One, two, three,” the chain of aircraft droned on, “eight, nine, ten, “it’s back on, ten seconds on the dot.”

“Looking good,” responded the pilot,” but just check to make sure it stays on for only thirty seconds. I doubt there will be any other searchlights lit, but better to be sure.”

“Ok sir, better to be safe than sorry.”

“Is there any of that coffee left in the flask?”

“Soon as I’ve checked the count, I’ll pour.”

“There its out, bang on the button, I’ll get that coffee now.”

They were leaving the first searchlight behind, and could already see the next rotating beacons. The two after that would see them over Buir and Lucherburg, putting them roughly half way to the target and the release point.

Hempel, leant back towards Paul, “I can see the beacon at Lucherburg sir, that puts us about halfway to the release point.”

Paul’s stomach knotted, they would be in action soon he thought. He passed the information back down the line to his troop, “half way.”

He could feel the tension rising in the glider cabin.

Were they, like him, questioning their ability to complete the mission? He didn’t think so, they exuded confidence.

On the surface, Paul did the same. He didn’t show them the doubts that he sometimes felt as their leader. He wouldn’t let them, down. Anyway, Max would be there somewhere. Just picturing the burly Unterfeldwebel, being there to back him up, made him feel a little easier.

He berated himself, knowing that he should snap out of it, he had men to lead into battle; he didn’t have time for self doubt now.

The glider immediately behind Paul’s contained Max and his assault troop.

The pilot, Engels, had also informed his assault troop commander of their location and the fact that they were half way there.

“Looking good,” Max commented, completely relaxed.

He’d had his jitters as they were boarding the gliders, but now he was ready, now he was unshakeable. They had trained hard and well. Yes, things could go wrong, he thought, but that is life. The fundamentals were all there. The tactics were right, the training had been intensive and they were well led.

Oberleutnant Faust was an exceptional officer, and so was Leutnant Brand. They would get them through this and lead them to victory.

The Junkers pilot sipped his coffee, pulling a face as he did so, “canteen coffee again?”

“It’s the same coffee we have every time sir,” replied the bemused co-pilot.

“I know, and it never gets any better.”

“Look, he pointed out, it’s the second searchlight sir. I know, count the seconds.”

“We don’t want to take our paying passengers to the wrong place do we?”

The co-pilot fumbled with his watch and started his check of the searchlight timings.

“Yep, same as the first one, not far now sir.”

“About twenty kilometres, ten minutes to go then. This tail wind must be stronger than we thought, this puts us ahead of schedule,” the pilot said worryingly.

“How far ahead sir?”

“I’d say about ten minutes. We still need to gain some height as well.”

“What will you do?”

“Let’s check our height and time once we get to the searchlights at Aachen.”

Hempel shouted to Paul, “we’re at the release point sir, but we’re not being released,” he said sounding concerned.

“What could be the problem?” asked Paul

“Were not at the correct height for one sir, I think these winds have pushed us too quickly and we haven’t been able to climb fast enough.”

“Could we make it from here?”

“I doubt it sir, we need at least another four hundred metres.”

“Are we still climbing?”

“Yes, but we are crossing over the Dutch border as we speak; they will be none too pleased.”

“When this all kicks off, none of them will be pleased,” stated Paul.

Through the wisps of cloud the keen eyed co-pilot had spotted the searchlight, showing the location of their next step, the release of the gliders, and the last of the support they would see from the ground.

“What do we do sir; we still need to climb four hundred metres?”

“We’ll have to keep going; we’ve got to get the gliders to the right height for release. If we release them now, they’ll never make it to their targets.”

“But we’re crossing into Dutch airspace sir!” The co-pilot sounded alarmed.

“A bit late to worry about that now, very soon the entire German army will crossing into their space. I have no option; we have to gain some more height.”

“Flak’s coming our way sir,” shouted the co-pilot, his eyes wide with fear.

“Shit!”

The glider shook as an explosion burst somewhere above them.

“The buggers are firing at us sir!”

“Are we at the right height yet,” Paul asked?

“Close enough sir, I hope to God we get the release soon.”

Puffs of smoke could be seen above and to their right, the flak clearly aimed at other aircraft in the armada.

“We’ve got it sir, the signal to release, standby!”

Paul shouted back to his men, who sensed something was wrong, particularly as they could hear the anti aircraft fire going on around them.

Although they had some very small windows just below the wings, it didn’t give them a very clear view, and they certainly couldn’t see what was happening ahead of them.

Crouched together, in a cramped enclosed space, being fired at with nothing to fire back with was claustrophobic for the paratroopers at the rear of the glider.

Another flash, more puffs of smoke in the sky to the front of them. The Junkers dropping sharply to avoid them, Hempel quickly matching the Junkers path, not wanting to snap the tow line.

“Time to release sir.”

“Let’s do it.”

At this instance, they were close to their ideal height; it was now the turn of the glider pilots to prove their worth.

Hempel initiated the release; troop two was ready to descend.

Fischer was also holding on to his bench seat as his pilot, Stadler guided the glider downwards, following in the wake of Paul’s glider in front. They had the un-envious task of flying close to the anti-aircraft battery, on top of the fort, their first target.

Max’s pilot also dropped the towline, and now, unfettered from its umbilical cord, it swooped down, seeking out its final destination.

Leeb touched the shoulder of his pilot, Menzel, “there go three of the gliders, are we next?”

“Yes, I’m just giving them a bit of space before I release. With this flak flying around, we may need to jink about a bit.”