BAKER’S BOY
Although the successes of Luftwaffe night fighters against RAF bombing attacks on the Reich were extraordinary, the fighter crews themselves also suffered grievous losses . Andy Saunders spotlights just one ‘unknown’ casualty.
In defending the Reich against night attacks, the Luftwaffe’s Nachtjäger fighter force achieved considerable success and saw the meteoric rise of numerous ‘ace’ crews. It also saw grievous combat and accident losses. Andy Saunders looks at the short career of just one ‘unknown’ night fighter crewman.
Although Heinz-wolfgang Schnaufer is said to have felt he had a higher chance of survival as a night fighter pilot than he would have had in any other frontline role, the fact of the matter is that very many hundreds of Luftwaffe Nachtjagd pilots and crew members were killed on operational flights between 1941 and 1945. However, Schnaufer’s view held good for him in that he had at least survived the war. But that was as much down to luck than to anything else. And it was certainly the case that very many of the other highscoring pilots would eventually be killed.
Of those hundreds of night fighter crews who did lose their lives, the overwhelming majority would never be aces or household names in Germany. The ‘cult’ of the ace, though, provided all warring nations with good propaganda fodder – and that is not in any way to denigrate the remarkable achievements of such men.
Of the Nachtjagd pilots, though, a good many achieved more than 50 bomber ‘kills.’ Some more than 100. All told, RAF Bomber Command lost 55,000 men – many lost to night fighters. And, of those, an overwhelming majority of losses fell to Luftwaffe pilots and aircrew who achieved but few claims in their careers. Often, it was a career terminated by death or injury.
Understandably, attention has focussed on the high scorers, their incredible achievements being easily
explained by the fact that the German night fighter pilot knew no such thing as a tour of operations as was the norm in the RAF. They simply went on until the end. That is: until the end of the war or until the grim reaper claimed them.
Putting all of that into context, it was common for some night fighter pilots and crews to fly upwards of 150 or 200 operational sorties. During that time, it was not unknown for some pilots or crews to make anywhere between five or ten bale-outs over German territory from their stricken fighters.
Against the background of those astonishing figures, then, it easy to see why so many Luftwaffe Nachtjagd personnel lost their lives. However, for men like Unteroffizier Franz Hucke, a Bordfunker serving with 4./NJG5, their names were often lost to history. For these men, there was no enduring fame like that enjoyed by Heinz-wolfgang Schnaufer.
FROM KONDITOREI TO BORDFUNKER
The Hucke family can trace their origins in the town of Dingelstädt, in Germany’s Thuringia region, back to 1685. Across those centuries, the family had served as artisans and tradespeople in that same community. And when Franz was born on 28 August 1920, it was inevitable that he would eventually follow in similar footsteps, too, and serve the town community in some form or another. That inevitability, though, was shattered in September 1939 with the outbreak of war.
Having long since finished his schooling, Franz had been articled as an apprentice with the Rudolf Ulmer bakery in Friedrichshafen where he worked as a baker’s assistant between August 1937 and May 1938, eventually leaving Ulmer’s establishment qualified in his chosen career path and excelling in Konditorei – the making of cakes and pastries.
Returning to Dingelstädt, Franz joined the family bakery business which had been serving the town since 1840. However, the inevitability of his chosen career path was shattered with the outbreak of war; on 1 October 1939, Franz Hucke enlisted in the Luftwaffe, eventually to train as a Bordfunker (radio operator) with the I/zerstörer Schule at Schleiβheim in February 1941.
While posted at Schleiβheim (near München), and for reasons unknown, Hucke found himself near Tönning (some 800 km to the north of München) during May 1941 where he saw and photographed a shot down Wellington bomber. This was an aircraft of 115 Squadron (R1379) which was the first victory claim of Leutnant Eckhart-wilhelm von Bonin of 6./NJG1. Doubtless, the sight of the downed RAF bomber was something of an inspiration to the trainee who was probably impatient to begin his night fighting career and to follow in the footsteps of von Bonin’s Bordfunker and to emulate him.
Unfortunately, much of the detail of Franz’s military service is more than a little vague, but we do know that he left the Zerstörer Schule on
7 February 1942. From here, it would appear he may have served initially in either a Luftwaffe training or transport capacity, although by 1943 he was certainly with 4 Staffel of II/NJG5 at Parchim, Germany.
ATTACK ON BERLIN
When serving with NJG5, and for obvious reasons, his comrades gave him the nickname of Der Bäcker, with a survivor of the unit recalling that Franz always wore a white vest under his Luftwaffe tunic. It was, he said, a nod to his professional trademark garb.
Again, we know little of his brief Luftwaffe career as a night fighter Bordfunker flying in the unit’s Messerschmitt Bf 110 aircraft, but we do know that he became the radio operator to Oberleutnant Viktor Sorko, a 23-year-old from Graz, Austria.
Officially, Sorko had claimed at least six confirmed victories and those included a Stirling on 28/29 July 1942 and a Stirling and a Halifax on the night of 21/22 June 1943 and another claim on the night of 28/29 July 1943. In Hucke’s meagre collection of photographs, though, can be found a picture of the aftermath of the destruction of a Short Stirling on the night of 21 April 1943.
Whether Hucke was flying with Sorko as early as the latter’s first victory on 28/29 July 1942, though, is unclear. However, Sorko had also served with II./NJG3 and 4./NJG5, although during that time it is known that he was also detached for some of the period of his service to fly with NJG1. And given that a photograph exists of Hucke with a Messerschmitt 110 of NG1 bearing that unit’s ‘G9’ code letters, it is reasonable to assume that Hucke was flying with Sorko during the latter’s attachment to that unit.
Whatever the facts, we do know that
both Victor Sorko and Franz Hucke were flying together on 6 March 1944 in their Messerschmitt Bf 110 G-4 of 4./NJG5 (W.NR 5444, C9 + GM) after being scrambled during the early afternoon to intercept what was the first mass daylight attack on Berlin by the USAAF. On that day, elements of NJG1, NJG3 and NJG were also involved in engagements with the American formations, which also included heavy fighter escort. Such was the nature of the raid, that the I.jagdkorps had no choice but to deploy the night fighter force in a daylight role.
While the circumstances of the loss of C9+GM remain uncertain, it is likely they either succumbed to heavy defensive fire from the bomber formations or else fell victim to the fighter escort. Either way, their aircraft crashed to earth at Ladeburg, near Bernau, to the north of Wernauchen, killing both men. Quite likely, it was the very fact that this was a daylight operation which resulted in their deaths. At night, they were protected to some degree by a cloak of darkness and were not in clear view of the defending gunners. And neither did they have to confront agile fighter aircraft. In all, NJG5 lost five of the 16 aircraft it deployed that day, with seven of its crew members killed and one injured.
Oberleutnant Viktor Sorko was taken home for burial in Graz, while Franz Hucke was also returned back to his grieving family in Dingelstädt for burial at home.
Both men had given their all in defending their loved ones and their homeland. It was a homeland they had endured the horror of seeing burn and crumble before their very eyes, night after night, day after day. And in that respect, Hauptmann a.d Peter Spoden, who had been the Gruppenkommandeur of I./NJG6, summed it up very succinctly:
“We did not need much motivation. Those who saw the devastation of bombedout cities razed to rubble
– or the terrible sight of a badly burned young mother carrying her charred baby in her arms – knew where their duties lay as aviators. We knew what we had to do, despite our indifference towards our leadership who had taken us into a disastrous war and abandoned every standard of responsible action.”
There little doubt that Franz Hucke likely felt the same, desperately wanting to play his part in protecting his family and loved ones at home in Dingelstädt. And he and Viktor Sorko certainly played their part. And, as those who knew such men grow few, and family connections grow more distant, so time conspires to ensure that memories of them which did exist are finally lost to history.