Hitler's Jet Plane (24 page)

Kurt Welter was born in Cologne on 25 February 1916. After leaving school he studied commerce and in 1934 volunteered as a private in the basic grade,
Flieger
, for a twelve-year period with the Luftwaffe. Following basic training he worked on the administration side and on 1 August 1940 was promoted sergeant for time served while at the flying school of Training Regiment 63, Marienbad. He must have had the benefit of a very thorough technical and aviation training programme for a drafting followed to the training branch, Quedlinburg Flight Training School, where he remained as a flying instructor until 9 August 1943. What appears certain is that during this period he made regular applications to fly operationally, but these were always denied by the Flying Schools’ Kommando because he was an outstanding flight and fighter instructor and personnel of proven ability to fill these positions were in short supply. Those who knew him tell of a man at home in the cockpit of an aircraft as almost no other man was, a sure and certain flier who could shoot like William Tell.

When he arrived at Blind Flying School 10 near Altenburg on 10 August 1943, probably as a night-fighter instructor, he succeeded in making the jump to the
Wilde Sau
, the popular term for so-called ‘bright night-hunting’ operations on clear nights introduced by Major Hajo Herrmann. The role of
Wilde Sau
was to intercept the ever-growing Allied bomber fleets but they were desperately short of pilots. Now began Kurt Welter’s unique path as a day- and night-fighter pilot. The extract below was written by war correspondent Helmut Pirath and appeared in the fighter crews’ newspaper
Pauke, Pauke
(W/T slang for a victory):

Forty operational flights, thirty-three victories . . . and an interesting question! After exchanging the first few sentences with Kurt Welter, one knows that he comes from Cologne. Through his vigour and Rhinelander’s open manner he brings an especial cordiality to the circle of his squadron comrades.

The extraordinary flying ability of this young officer is probably the reason that he was retained as a flying instructor until 1943 and his wish to serve at the front was not granted until last autumn (1943).

For seven long years, today’s most successful single-engined night-fighter pilot taught his pupils [methods of] flying practice and safety procedures which he has now personally and convincingly put to the test in the face of the enemy. His series of successes is unique – or is it mere coincidence – when one discovers in Leutnant Welter’s flight book only forty operational missions recorded and yet he wears not only the German Cross in Gold but has now been decorated (18 October 1944) with the Knight’s Cross? It is no coincidence! His very first operational mission was a double success: over Hannover he shot down two four-engined bombers. His third combat mission had the same outcome. It is becoming ever clearer that his achievements were based on flying ability alone, for initially at that time he had had no combat experience. In this connection it is a very interesting question therefore whether flying ability or combat experience is the more valuable. When both are bound together and sealed with a soldier’s luck, that must be the ideal solution. But here, undoubtedly, we have a special case, for within only a few weeks the number of victories exceeded the number of missions flown. After eleven missions he had shot down fourteen terror-bombers and day missions show that Leutnant Welter is master of all registers, for how else is it to be explained that in his first encounter with the enemy he knocked down two Mustangs and the next day another bird of the same feather? That two more Boeings went the same way,
summa summarum
: five aerial victories in four days!!!!?

The extraordinary achievement of this 28-year-old fighter pilot justifies my asking the brief question with which I began, and all the more so when one hears that he also heads the table of the Mosquito-hunters with six shot down and one rammed. In this case the success of this flight lieutenant and the circumstances surrounding his prowess prove that many kinds of influences, some unsuspected, can determine the path to victory. Accordingly one would do best of all in our struggle to believe not in miracles, but rather to believe in the wonderful. War Correspondent Helmut Pirath.

This report covers Welter’s operational period from about October 1943 to the end of October 1944. For about three months – from 14 April to 6 July 1944 according to his service record – Welter was attached to an operational fliers’ holding group but did not fly. Possibly he had been wounded in an exchange of fire or when ramming the Mosquito. Nothing more could be determined about this. The following occurred sometime at the beginning of July 1944.

One morning the orderly officer to Oberst Heiner Wittmer, I Jagdkorps, Berlin-Treuenbrietzen, announced a Leutnant Welter. Wittmer knew the name but not the person and was astonished to hear the reason for his visit: Welter wanted to fly night operations with the Me 262. Wittmer could scarcely believe his ears, and so Welter repeated his request unequivocally. Have you any idea what that would mean? Wittmer asked, more perplexed than believing. The new aircraft was giving problems enough by day, was still undergoing pre-operational trials at Lechfeld, and there would certainly be many more difficulties to be overcome before the 262 could be used as a night-fighter, if ever. Welter assured Wittmer he was serious and begged the help of the Oberst. He was convinced, he said, that it would work, and if not, well then, the Luftwaffe would be one jet and one pilot fewer and that wouldn’t matter too much.

There now began a lengthy discussion. Wittmer put one question after another interspersed by the direst warnings about Welter’s premature ideas. The latter ignored all objections. He had already gone over what was at stake. The principal difficulty lay in the return flight after a mission, especially in bad weather and on dark nights. There might be cases where he would get home via his parachute, but that was no different from how the day-fighters and the
Wilde Sau
night-fighters conducted affairs. What he really needed was good co-operation from the searchlight batteries over Berlin. That was where he wanted to fly first of all. Primarily against Mosquitos, then the heavy bombers. Once he picked up the condensation trail of an enemy machine in the searchlight beam, that, plus the speed of the Me 262, was all he needed to close in and shoot it down. He would have to have two jets with ground crew and full powers to discuss tactical questions with the Flakführer Berlin and satellite centres and so on. He was thinking particularly of Briest, Parchim, Oranienburg and Burg near Magdeburg.

Wittmer liked the concept but was not yet persuaded. The lieutenant with the German Cross in Gold impressed him, less by his idea than the manner in which he presented it, free of any suggestion of arrogance, swank or readiness to prove one’s loyalty to the cause by some act of ‘fanatical self-sacrifice’. What was being advocated sounded reasonable, but Wittmer knew that it was out of the ordinary.

‘And why do you want to run this risk?’ he asked.

‘Because I was a flying instructor for seven years and after my operational experience flying Me 109s and Fw 190s I believe I can have greater success with the 262.’ There was no hint of presumption in this response.

‘And you want to be a lone flier?’ Wittmer gave him a long stare. ‘You know what that means, I suppose?’

‘I have considered it, Herr Oberst,’ Welter replied without hesitation, ‘At night everybody is more or less alone. No one can help another. But if I am successful, I can pass on my experiences with the 262 to other pilots and then build a small unit to see how we can progress from there. But initially I have to do it alone.’

Wittmer made his last objection: ‘You have been unusually successful in your short operational career, Welter, but what if you crash in your 262? You wouldn’t be the first.’

‘Then I would have to say that until that point I had been lucky, Herr Oberst.’

Although Wittmer had expected this answer, it still impressed him. ‘Then until now I have been lucky’ struck a chord in his subconscious and at this moment he decided to help Welter as far as he could. That was easier said than done, for Wittmer had neither the aircraft to give him, nor the ability to supply the other requirements, including plenipotentiary power over the flak chief of Berlin. There were only channels, and these led to his own superior, Beppo Schmidt, Commanding General I Jagdkorps.

In Wittmer’s presence, Schmidt heard out Welter’s application and then telephoned Generaloberst Stumpff, who commanded Luftflotte Reich.

If Welter had been a distinguished figure in his career until now, what happened next was unique in the annals of the Luftwaffe. Stumpff had been impressed by the fighting spirit and novel idea of the junior ranking pilot, but even he had no power to conjure up two aircraft – and particularly not Me 262 jets. Only Hitler could do that. But ‘channels’ to Hitler went first through Goering. Oberst von Brauchitsch was Senior ADC to Goering, and shortly he rang Stumpff with the news that Goering was so taken by Welter’s suggestion – there is no other explanation for it – that he wished Welter to present himself before the Reichsmarschall next morning to discuss his plan.

After hearing Welter, even Goering was so enthusiastic that he declared himself ready to help in whatever way he could, but there was a serious difficulty. Because of the recent altercations between high-level Luftwaffe chiefs respecting the Me 262, Goering felt unable to give the order himself since Hitler was utterly out of humour in the matter of the jet fighter. What he could suggest, on the other hand however, was that Welter might well be able to sway Hitler to his way of thinking.

Goering was not disappointed. Welter was summoned to make his case to Hitler and received permission to go ahead with his intentions. A Führer-edict to the various centres gave Welter a free hand, two Me 262 fighters and a pool of ground crew.

From this time onwards, Kurt Welter flew only the Me 262. The date of his first engagement flying the jet is not known, but it was certainly earlier than March 1945, the date entered in his service record. Both General Kammhuber and Oberst Wittmer remember distinctly that Welter’s first successes as a jet pilot were in late 1944, and Wittmer particularly had a keen interest in how Welter’s idea worked in practice. It seems fairly well established by recent analysis that the first date of operations was 12 December 1944. Since Hitler had given Welter plenipotentiary powers to make decisions, it is possible that the first combat missions with the jet overlapped the last he made with the Me 109. Wittmer considers this possible after he became Welter’s direct superior in the autumn of 1944 when appointed commanding officer of I Jagddivision. A close co-operation developed between the two men, and Wittmer would often intervene to ensure Welter got his way in cases where the latter ran up against opposition despite the Führer-edict.

After his jet conversion training at Lechfeld, Welter looked for a suitable paved airstrip for his night operations with the Me 262 and chose Burg near Magdeburg. With his small ground team he equipped his two jets with the SN-Lichtenstein radar, the W/T 350 set and EBL – 3 blind-flying equipment and made his first trial flights. According to former night-fighter pilot Rudolf Schönert, Welter decided on a stretch of the Brandenburg
autobahn
for his runway. It was a novel idea and he soon ran up against time-consuming obstruction from the ‘experts’ at the Reich Air Ministry but finally overwhelmed them with his powers of persuasion. The advantage of operating from the public highway was that an
autobahn
was not a priority target for enemy bombers. His service record shows that Welter flew thirty-two
Wilde Sau
missions, most at night, and probably many of these were with the Me 262. Various witnesses have stated that on his first nocturnal operation with the jet fighter he shot down four Mosquitos. The strategy he worked out with the Flakführer Berlin and the searchlight batteries was proven in practice. Illuminating condensation trails of enemy aircraft – or holding them in a cone of concentrated beams – enabled him to make his attack from the darkness with almost guaranteed success.

In February 1945 Welter was given the task of forming a special Me 262 night-fighter unit using his own brand of tactics. This was squadron 10/NJG 11, although the only entry in his service record to cover the period from 2 November 1944 until his discharge from the Luftwaffe on 11 May 1945 is ‘Kommando Welter’. This appears to indicate that there was no substantial change in the nature of what he was doing from early November 1944 until the war’s end and confirms that he was flying the Me 262 operationally throughout that period.

Welter’s ability was such that no other pilot of his special unit managed to achieve anything approaching his success flying the Me 262 by night, and that is probably the reason why he became such a shadowy figure. He just kept on flying, victory following victory. One night, his aircraft badly damaged, close to his home
autobahn
, he decided to attempt a crash-landing. The aircraft skidded into woodland and came to a stop, allowing Welter to alight without a scratch. All landings are controlled crashes, and so far as he was concerned, this was merely another of them. He was ready to take off as scheduled next evening.

It seems certain that Welter flew every night, weather permitting. He was awarded the Knight’s Cross on 18 October 1944. This award was made only seven days after he received the Front-fliers’ clasp in bronze for thirty operational missions. This was uncommonly rare. He was promoted to Oberleutnant on 1 December 1944 and on 26 February 1945 received the Front-flier’s clasp in silver for 60 operational missions. On 11 March 1945 Oberleutnant Welter ‘Staffelkapitän 10/NJG 11 (Kommando Welter) became the 769th member of the Wehrmacht to be awarded the Oak Leaves to the Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross.’

Rudolf Schönert recalled that in May 1945, Welter told him that he had obtained ten victories with the Me 262 by night, the last two shortly before the war ended, so that official acknowledgement failed to arrive in the general confusion of the time. There must have been a misunderstanding regarding the period to which Welter was referring; Welter claimed twenty-five Mosquitos and two heavy bombers by night and two Mosquitos by day flying the Me 262. Analysis appears to confirm twenty of these victories to date making Welter the highest scoring German jet-fighter pilot.