UNLOCKING HISTORY: BATTLE OF BRITAIN SOUVENIRS
Andy Saunders unlocks the story behind some fascinating artefacts taken as trophies from Luftwaffe aircraft brought down over the Sussex coast during 1940.
Cockpit instruments taken as war
souvenirs by British servicemen from two Luftwaffe aircraft shot down in 1940 unexpectedly and accidentally revealed their own intriguing histories. The clues are unravelled and interpreted by Andy Saunders.
When a selection of Luftwaffe cockpit instruments came into the hands of the editorial team in recent months, it inevitably raised the question: what was the story behind those objects? Fortunately, they came with some very definite clues which allowed the respective histories of the items to be unlocked and their provenance established beyond any doubt.
CASE FILE NO. 1 Messerschmitt Bf 109 E-4 Cockpit Clock
When the Consultant Editor (Historical) of Iron Cross magazine set out to acquire for himself a working example of the Luftwaffe’s early pattern
Junghans FL 23885 cockpit clock, it was not his intention or expectation to obtain one tied to the history of a specific aircraft. Such finds are rare, the back story to any clocks coming onto the market usually having been lost long ago. In fact, it is very often the case that any history which has been ‘attached’ to a specific clock will be fanciful; such a ‘provenance’ frequently being used as a device to enhance the attractiveness and value of items to
unwary or gullible buyers. With that in mind, Robin Schäfer sought only to obtain a genuine early pattern clock which was either working or else could be put into operable condition. He had no interest in finding one with a history attached to it, whether such a history was verifiable or not. As things turned out, the example which he eventually purchased revealed its own history inside the rear cover of the clock. It was sold, though, merely as a Luftwaffe FL 23885 clock and with no known history.
Having purchased the clock, Robin described to the Editor that he had removed the rear of the case only to discover something which had been scratched into the metal long ago. It was an inscription which made no sense to him and he described the marking as appearing to read: BROOM HILL 25/10.
At once, this rang a bell with the Editor. It could only relate to one thing: the Messerschmitt 109 E-4 of 5/JG54 which was shot down on 25 October 1940 at Broomhill, near Lydd, Kent just across the county border into East Sussex. Hence: BROOM HILL 25/10. There could be little doubt, then, as to the origins of this clock. Clearly, it had been removed from the cockpit as a souvenir and marked by whoever took it with a brief reminder as to the when and the where.
Adding to the weight of evidence supporting this identification, it is known that the aircraft in question was extensively pillaged for souvenirs. Indeed, during the early 1970s, an EXRAF driver attached to a Maintenance Unit told how that he helped salvage the wreck of the aircraft in question, having taken and retained his own souvenirs. These were the enamelled badge from the front of the DB 601 engine and a square of painted fabric cut from one of the control surfaces. And whilst he unfortunately did not say that he had taken the clock, somebody else clearly had. Indeed, it would probably have been unusual if they had not; clocks were frequently targeted, not only being attractive items but also serving as functional trophies.
HOLES IN WINGS
In the case of the aircraft in question, we are fortunate to have a range of photographs of the downed Messerschmitt, along with an account written in 1978 by its pilot, Oberleutnant Joachim Schypek:
“I think I must have been somewhere above Tunbridge Wells when we were attacked by Spitfires when trying to reach London. It was a sunny day, but it was rather chilly, I think.
“Our 6th Staffel was a bomb-carrying outfit with orders to bomb London – the docks I presume - and our 4th and 5th Staffel were both assigned to their escort.
“My usual position in the formation was in the rear to fly as cover for the Staffel, as such. I forget which direction the Spitfires came from which engaged us, but there they were and when they threatened to come too close to our rear, I called the agreed codeword: “Kniebeuge!” (bend your knees) It meant turn 180°.
“I pushed my stick forward violently and went into a steep nosedive. Our fuel injection system usually gave us an advantage over RAF fighters with carburettors, but this time it was a very unpleasant surprise to note that the
Spitfire grew ever bigger in my rearview mirror. I thought: “…thank God for the armour plate behind the tank and me!” I hoped he wouldn’t manage to hit my coolant system, but that hope was in vain. Soon, there were holes in my wings.
“I radioed that I was hit and that I was trailing big white vapour stripes behind me, indicating I was losing cooling fluid fast. I said that I’d try to reach a safe distance from the English coast and hope that our air-sea rescue ‘planes would pick me up.
“Then, a Spitfire flew alongside me and the pilot waved his hand before banking away. It was probably the aircraft which had shot me down. A nice gesture, I thought.”
ENGAGEMENT RING
Struggling valiantly to reach the English Channel, it soon became obvious to Joachim Schypek that he could not extend his glide that far. Not giving up hope just yet, he decided against taking to his parachute. Very soon, though, he was far too low to even consider that as an option.
Reaching the coast at an altitude of just 100 metres, he realised that getting far enough out to sea to have a reasonable chance of a friendly rescue had by now evaporated. There was only one option left: to make a forced landing in England.
“I suddenly thought that I would not now be able to pick up the engagement ring I had ordered from a jeweller in Lille. Provided we were given leave, I had intended to announce my engagement at Christmas. But now I just had to stay alive.
“British soldiers were working in the green fields below. I believe they were mining against possible invasion. I headed for a free strip, jettisoned my cabin roof, put down the landing flaps fully and braced myself for impact. However, it was much softer than I had anticipated.
“I then did all the routine things: cut electrical power, shut the fuel valve, disconnected my radio lead, released the shoulder straps, unfastened my parachute harness and jumped clear in case she caught fire.
“An Army captain ran up with several soldiers and they all cried: “Hands up!” I felt a bit strange, although I was relieved that I spoke English. My war was over.”
There was, however, a somewhat amusing sequel to Joachim Schypek’s arrival in Britain. Taken to a nearby Army camp, he fell asleep on a sofa but was woken as the door to the room where he was being held crashed open and one of his fellow pilots, a colleague from 5/JG54, Leutnant Ernst Wagner, walked in. “Thank heavens!” exclaimed a relieved Schypek, “I have just had a terrible dream that I had been shot down and captured!” Looking at him pityingly, Wagner mumbled: “It was no dream, Herr Oberleutnant!”
This, then, is the story behind a clock which once ticked away the final moments in the career of a Luftwaffe fighter pilot flying over England during the autumn of 1940. Today, it ticks happily away on an editorial desk at Iron Cross magazine.
CASE FILE NO. 2 Messerschmitt Bf 110 D-0 Instrumentation
In a post on a recent specialist Facebook page, a member of that group posed a question about two instruments and a label taken by a member of a friend’s family from a German aircraft brought down on the south coast of England during the Battle of Britain. The poster wanted to know what they were, and what aircraft they were from. Helpfully, he had added photographs of the items.
Identifying the nature of the two instruments was simple: one was a FL 47298-1 ‘Durchladen’ ammunition rounds counter. The other was identifiable as a FL 22231 air speed indicator. Both types of instruments, though, were fitted to a whole range of German aircraft types. Alone, they told us nothing of their history. However, by great good fortune, our 1940 souvenir hunter had also taken from the cockpit of the aircraft a data label which, on its own, unlocked the story.
That label, a piece of paper held in an alloy and celluloid frame, identified the aircraft type quite clearly: it was a Bf 110 D-0. It also recorded the code letters as having been VF + HA. More importantly, and vitally, it noted the aircraft Werk-nummer: 3339. From this Werk-nummer it was possible to identify the aircraft from which the items had been removed: a Messerschmitt Bf 110 D-0 of Erprobungsgruppe 210.
SPECIAL OPERATIONAL TASKS
Erprobungsgruppe 210, formed officially on 1 July 1940, was the only new unit in the Luftwaffe between the end of the western campaign and the commencement of the Battle of Britain, and as the name suggests (Test Wing 210), the original intention was to trial the Messerschmitt 210. However, that aircraft was so far behind in being brought to testing status that the new unit was given different special operational tasks and a straight Messerschmitt 110 Staffel, a ‘Stuka’ Staffel and a Messerschmitt 109 Staffel, formed the 1st, 2nd and 3rd Staffel of the unit respectively. Also, a ‘Staff flight’ (Gruppenstab) was formed, the unit being led by Hauptmann Walter Rubensdörffer.
Initially, the unit’s aircraft comprised Messerschmitt Bf 110 C-6s, Messerschmitt Bf 110 D-0/BS, which equipped the Stab and 2nd Staffel, and Messerschmitt Bf 109 E-4/BS, which the 3rd Staffel took on charge. The Bf 110 C-6s were unique in having a single 30 mm cannon (MG 101) slung beneath the central fuselage in place of the normal 2 x 20 mm cannon. Only 12 aircraft of this sub-variant were ever built.
The first batch of D-0/BS issued to the unit were originally ‘Dackelbauch’ machines that were factory-converted to fighter-bombers by the fitment of two bomb racks enclosed in a slim fairing mounted under the fuselage.
The ‘D’ series of Messerschmitt Bf 110s were distinguishable from the ‘C’ series by having an extended rear fuselage which housed a dinghy and emergency equipment for use when ditching. The top of the port fuselage had a cable running from just aft of the Bordfunker’s position to the rear fuselage extension, this being operated by the Bordfunker to open the tail section and release the enclosed items in the event of putting down on water.
This, then, was the aircraft type designated on the paper label.
THE CROYDON RAID
The story of the fateful attack on RAF Croydon by the aircraft of Erprobungsgruppe 210 on 15 August 1940 is one that is generally wellknown. In essence, however, the unit had been briefed to attack RAF Kenley, but the haze and poor visibility of the early evening had resulted in RAF Croydon, a few miles to the north, being wrongly identified as the target. And although the attack on Croydon was devastating, so it was for the raiding aircraft.
One of the aircraft of the Gruppenstab was that flown by Leutnant Karl-heinz Koch, the unit’s Technical Officer. Writing in 1979, he said:
“On 15 August 1940, I flew as No.3 behind my commander, Hauptmann Walter Rubensdörffer, and the Adjutant, Oberleutnant Fiedler.
During the dive, I realised this was not our target, but we were already in the attack and I had to follow the lead. At that time, Croydon was forbidden as a target because it was in the London area. My rear gunner, Unteroffizier Rolf Kahl, was hit by fighters over Croydon and again on the way out. I did not have a single scratch, but as the aircraft was damaged, I knew we couldn’t get back across the Channel, so I made a forced landing at Hooe, near Bexhill, on the Sussex coast.
After I stepped out of the aircraft, about five members of the Home Guard appeared and I was prisoner. I was
later given the POW number 51156 and became the 219th officer taken POW.”
The aircraft had come to rest on School Farm, Hooe, just to the west of Bexhill-on-sea, later joining a growing mountain of scrap Luftwaffe aircraft at 49 Maintenance Unit, RAF Faygate.
As a result of the raid on Croydon, Erprobungsgruppe 210 lost seven aircraft with six crew members dead, seven wounded and eight POW. One aircraft returned with a wounded crew member on board, with Hauptmann Rubensdörffer and Leutnant Fiedler among those killed. Rolf Kahl was repatriated to Germany in 1943 due to his severe injuries.
From contemporary records, we know the aircraft being flown by Koch on 15 August 1940 was Werke Nummer 3339 and carried the fuselage codes S9 + CB. (Note: these were the unit code letters which later replaced the factory code letters shown on the data label)
From the number 3339 alone, it is possible to definitively match the items to this aircraft and incident. And, if further confirmation were needed, the soldier who retrieved them was serving with the 7th Devonshire Regiment. Helpfully, the local Police report of the incident states:
‘A military guard from the 7th Devon Regiment took over guarding the aircraft from the Police at 20.30.’
Although the 7th Devonshire Regiment’s purpose in guarding the aircraft was specifically to prevent it being subjected to unwanted attention by souvenir hunters, it was a measure that evidently failed to prevent the soldiers helping themselves to their own trophies!
(As a footnote to the incident , the comedian ‘Spike’ Milligan was serving with the Royal Artillery in 1940 and stationed at nearby Bexhill -on-sea. In his book ‘Adolf Hitler and My Part in his Downfall’, Milligan makes mention of a MG15 machine gun which was removed from the rear cockpit of this aircraft. It was later mounted on a tripod as a light antiaircraft weapon. ‘Spike’ called it: ‘The mighty Spandau.’)