3
AN END TO SCHOOLDAYS
Anti-aircraft batteries in Germany were manned by an arm of the Luftwaffe which was known as the Heimat FLAK (Home Ak Ak). On 22 February, 1943, I became a Luftwaffen Helfer, which means an auxiliary of the Luftwaffe. The purpose of establishing these units of schoolboys was to be able to release regular soldiers for service in the Front-lines. As a result, anti-aircraft batteries retained all officers and NCOs, but only a skeleton crew of rank and file soldiers. It was recommended that seventy soldiers should be released for every one hundred auxiliaries called up. A total of 100,000 schoolboys became auxiliaries between the beginning of 1943 and the end of the war.
All boys in my year had been called up, with the exception of a few who were older than the rest of us and had already been conscripted to the Labour Service. Our Classics teacher, Dr Reichler, was detailed to go with us and to give us our lessons in all required subjects.
After bringing my belongings to my guardian’s house in Mücheln, I set off for the town of Schkopau, eleven miles to the north-east. My battery was stationed nearby in open country which put it about halfway between Halle to the north and the giant Buna/Leuna chemical works to the south. It formed part of a protective ring around these two vital production areas and also had to prevent bomber formations from flying further east to attack other targets. The battery consisted of four 105-millimetre anti-aircraft guns, radar equipment, a computer control module and a data conversion section. There were twenty-one of us auxiliaries and we were allotted in groups to the different sections of the battery, but not to the guns, apparently because we would have been exposed to greater danger.
The rules and conditions under which schoolboys were called up were very comprehensive and stringent; all civil laws governing the protection of youths were to be observed. Auxiliaries had to receive a minimum of eighteen hours of school classes a week and they were not allowed to carry out any manual labour. Strict rules applied to the accommodation provided and an officer in each battery was given special responsibility for their well-being and to ensure that they were not exploited. These, among a host of further guidelines, showed that the well-being of the auxiliaries was being taken seriously. In my group the conditions were generally met, with the exception of one rule which stated that all auxiliaries must get a minimum of ten hours’ sleep a night, or be compensated with extra sleep during the daytime. As Allied bombing raids were stepped up, there was no practical way of meeting these requirements.
Our accommodation in Schkopau consisted of timber huts which had a floor area of some twenty by twenty feet, and were placed about four feet below ground level. Each was surrounded by a protective mound of soil about five feet high so that only the shallow roof of the building was visible. Since each group of seven auxiliaries had a hut to itself, there was plenty of room and, though furnishings were sparse, it was clean and adequate. We slept in two-tier bunk beds and each of us had a steel locker and chair. A table and an army stove completed the equipment. Spartan as it was, and though the beds were not comfortable, nobody groused and we took it all in our stride.
Our personal equipment was standard army issue, but the uniform was based on the design of the Hitler Jugend dress. As a distinguishing feature, we wore a wide band with a swastika on the upper left arm of our jackets. For normal daytime activities we wore light-coloured army fatigues.
The food we got was mediocre, unlike the meals we had been given in the Lietz schools. We were often served a kind of goulash, and sometimes the potatoes had suffered frost damage, but we got some very good milk puddings. Since by this time the war had been going on for over four years, I suppose we could not complain too much and we got enough to fill our bellies. A large hut served as a canteen and we used it as a recreation hall in the evenings after we had done our homework.
We generally had very little contact with the army personnel during leisure hours and even less contact with NCOs and officers. Maybe they had been instructed to keep it that way. One exception was a young, outgoing lieutenant, who often sat with us philosophising for many an hour.
Our daily routine began at 6.30, that is, if we had not been up half the night. After washing, making our beds and tidying up the hut, we ate breakfast and then had school classes up to lunchtime in one of the huts especially reserved for this purpose. The afternoons were devoted to instruction in our respective sections of the battery and we also had physical fitness training, as well as marching drill. We did our homework in the evenings and could then relax, provided there was no air-raid alert.
I was very impressed by the high degree of automation with which our heavy FLAK-battery operated. Approaching aircraft were picked up, either by our radar-disc or by an optical range-finder. All data relevant to the movements of the aircraft were fed into a control-module, a technical marvel that could best be described as a mechanical/electrical computer. This equipment made all ballistic calculations for the guns and positioned them correctly by remote control, so that they were set and ready to fire. We auxiliaries had only light work to do; it was just a case of watching dial-gauges and adjusting small hand wheels. The only heavy work was done by the loaders of the guns, who had to lift and thrust a four-stone shell into the breech of each gun every three to four seconds.
My own job was in the data conversion unit. The purpose of this unit was to enable the battery to fire at approaching aircraft, even if we had not picked them up optically, or on our radar disc. Using headphones, we received data from neighbouring batteries who had locked onto aircraft. Our equipment immediately converted this data and fed it direct to our control module.
During a typical air-raid alert an alarm had us tumbling out of our bunks while attacking aircraft were still far away. After a while we heard data being transmitted through our headphones which allowed us to pre-set our equipment. Next, the rumble of anti-aircraft guns could be made out, distant at first, but quickly getting nearer. We were left in no doubt when our own battery began firing, even though we got no warning. I must confess that I was always thrilled by the heavy crash of our four big guns opening fire, as a wave of uncharacteristic patriotism swept over me.
Our morning classes were largely disastrous. Although we probably ended up with the prescribed eighteen hours a week, often we were too tired to concentrate. There was an air-raid alert almost every night and we had to be ready even if the bomber formations were still a long way off. It could happen that the planes dropped their bombs before getting near us or that they changed direction. Even when they were well outside the range of our guns, we were busy tracking the flight path so that we could open fire as soon as the planes got near enough. Whether we opened fire or not, we were usually hauled out of bed about midnight and did not get back until a few hours later. There were many times when we had to get up twice in the same night.
Getting a couple of extra hours in bed did not help very much after our sleep had been ruined, and so the droning voice of our teacher failed to hold our attention. Army activities dominated our minds to such an extent that academic studies became unrealistic, if not farcical. When the time came for us to move up a class, nobody failed his exams. We all got uniformly medium marks, probably by design, because it would not have been practical to fail anybody and so split the class.
Dr Reichler was very unhappy in his difficult job and I am afraid we did not make his life any easier. Our lack of support for him made me feel guilty, but we were young and had been put in an impossible position. We all felt happy that we were doing our bit in the war. Whatever its merits and demerits, if German cities were being bombed and we could help to save civilians’ lives, we thought that we must be doing something worthwhile.