“We were attacking a large B-17 formation, and this was interesting because we also hit a B-24 group, and I was the fifth aircraft to attack. The first four had scored hits on perhaps three bombers, and two were falling out of formation. Another later exploded. As I came in I saw the tracers hitting the front of my fighter, I could feel the impact, but I heard nothing. I sighted quickly, stayed focused, fired, and saw the left wing catch fire, and men started bailing out.
“Unfortunately the gunners hit my right engine, which just stopped, and the canopy shattered. The tail was shot up as I banked right and pulled up, and then I felt many strikes against the underside, just under my armor plated seat. Then I lost power, the left engine blew up internally, and I was then nothing more than a heavy glider and out of control. I decided to try and roll the fighter upside right, stabilize it, and then roll slightly after dumping the canopy. This would then allow me to pull up, bleed off airspeed, and climb out to jump clear of the tail section.
“I was at about twelve thousand feet when I left the jet; my oxygen mask had been blown off, along with my left boot, as the flash of fire that I had felt was in fact the oxygen bottle exploding, which was what blew me out of the jet in the first place, and not the fuel cells. I managed to correct myself as I fell. I just hoped the thing held together. I came in for my landing and I was hit again, the rest of the jet just fell apart, and I hit the ground rolling, then bumping along when the nose wheel collapsed, then the jet slowed to a stop, but I was not in it. I was already out, wounded again.”{3}
Eventually, new combat tactics were developed to counter the Allied bombers’ defenses. Me 262s that were equipped with R4M rockets would approach from the flanks of a bomber formation, where their silhouettes were widest, and, while still out of range of the .50-caliber guns, fire their rockets, often leading the targets accordingly. The high-explosive warhead of only one or two of these rockets was capable of downing even the famously rugged B-17; a strike on an enemy aircraft meant its total annihilation. This method was effective against bombers, and even without the rockets, the four 30mm cannons could take care of business, as stated by Capt. Eric Brown, CBE, DSC, AFC, RN, Chief Naval Test Pilot and Commanding Officer for the captured aircraft.
Brown test flew the Me 262 at Farnborough after the war, and Jorg Czypionka was his primary transition pilot instructor. Brown reported: “This was a Blitzkrieg aircraft. You whack in at your bomber. It was never meant to be a dogfighter, it was meant to be a destroyer of bombers…. The great problem with it was it did not have dive brakes. For example, if you want to fight and destroy a B-17, you come in on a dive. The thirty millimeter cannons were not so accurate above six hundred fifty yards. So you normally came in at six hundred yards and would open fire on your B-17. And your closing speed was still high and since you had to break away at two hunderd yards to avoid a collision, you only had two seconds firing time. Now, in two seconds, you cannot sight. You can fire randomly and hope for the best. If you want to sight and fire, you need to double that time to four seconds. And with dive brakes, you could have done that.”{4}
Although this flank attack tactic was effective, it came too late to have a real effect on the war. This method of attacking bombers became the standard until the invention and mass deployment of guided missiles. Some nicknamed this tactic the “Luftwaffe’s Wolf Pack,” as the fighters would often make runs in groups of two or three, fire their rockets, then return to base.
Yet, just as the Germans were learning how to exploit their new weapon, so were their opponents. RAF and USAAF fighter pilots, amazed at first and stunned at their new threat, began to study the jet. Intelligence reports, gun camera footage, and a captured jet that had been recovered after being shot down divulged a lot of information.
According to the tactic used by most Allied pilots, due to the great speed of the Me 262, the two best methods of shooting down the jets at high altitude were the dive in on the tail—preferably out of the sun—and ambushing the jet. If more than one Allied pilot was involved, one would take the lead, closing in for the kill. His wingman or others in his company would secure the flanks in case the jet went into a banking turn, while one would remain high in case the jet pulled up into a climb to escape.
One encounter occurred when P-47s of the 365th Fighter Group, the Hell Hawks, bounced a jet on March 13, 1945, from the account by Charles Johnson: “2nd Lt. Frederick W. Marling, flying Blue Three, with 2nd Lt. Henry Dahlen, his wingman, joined in a chase of Me 262s by the entire [388th] squadron. Soon they were outdistanced. [Archie F.] Maltbie then called the squadron to reform. Marling and Dahlen broke right and climbed back to seventeen thousand feet to rejoin the squadron. They came in from the rear and it was then that Marling saw an Me 262 fleeing eastward at seven thousand feet.
“Marling and Dahlen did a partial split-S coming in out of the sun right on the tail of the Me 262. The enemy pilot was unaware of their approach until Marling began firing from three hundred to four hundred yards. He continued to close rapidly until he was within six hundred feet, firing all the time. He was getting strikes all over the enemy plane. Marling kept shooting until he saw an explosion from the 262’s fuselage; the jet, trailing smoke, dove steeply into the clouds and disappeared. Marling, arguing that the pilot had too little height to pull out of the dive, claimed a kill.”{5}
One tactic that the Germans devised was the “two-cover method,” where the covering fighters would take off just before the jets did, and then they would take off and fly top cover as the jets radioed in that they were returning. This was to fend off any Allied fighters that had the tendency to follow them home, hoping for an easy kill.
The second defensive tactic was to orchestrate the airfield defensive antiaircraft batteries. They would only fire when given the command, thus ensuring that they did not hit friendly aircraft. The combined tactic claimed many Allied pilots who took the bait, such as a young fighter pilot from the 357th Fighter Group, 364th Fighter Squadron, 1st Lt. (later Col.) Edward R. “Buddy” Haydon, just one of many pilots who fell victim to the “flak trap.”
Haydon had two encounters with the Me 262 jets. One was at high altitude, when he went head to head with a jet and learned that the Me 262 was more maneuverable than he had been led to believe; he fell into the trap: “It was January 1945. On January 14, I shot up a couple of planes on the ground. On January 20, we ran into some 262s near Munich, and we got busted up pretty good trying to catch them. My flight included, I think, Dale Karger, who was in a Lufberry [circling formation] with a 262.[*]
“The jet had a higher speed, but the Mustang had a tighter turning radius. Each plane was trying to gain on the other without success. Well, I winged over and entered the chase, but from the opposite direction head on, I passed within inches of the 262, canopy to canopy, and this happened twice. I thought that it was crazy, but that I might hit him, bringing him down by guns or ramming him, and I might be able to bail out afterward. It was a stupid thought, and I woke up smartly after the second pass, but there was nothing I could do.