I reply that this is the reason for my ringing up and describe the seriousness of the present situation. It is no use. He advises me at all events to come to Berlin and talk to the Reichsmarschall; he believes he has a new assignment for me.
Furious because for the moment I am baffled I hang up. A hush descends upon the conversation in the mess. Everyone knows that when I am boiling over it is best to let me simmer down in silence.
Tomorrow we are to move to Klein-Eiche. I know the district well; our “tank acquaintance,” Count Strachwitz lives near by. The best way to forget my distress at this new move is to fly to Berlin to see the Reichsmarschall. He receives me at Karinhall; I am struck by his irritability and lack of geniality. We have our talk during a short walk in his forest. He opens up at once with his heaviest guns:
“I went to see the Führer about you a week ago and this is what he said: when Rudel is there I have not the heart to tell him that he must stop flying, I just cannot do it. But what are you the C.-in-C. of the Luftwaffe for? You can tell him, I cannot. Glad as I am to see Rudel, I do not want to see him again until he has reconciled himself to my wishes. I am quoting the Führer’s words and now I am telling you. Nor do I want to discuss the matter any further. I know all your arguments and objections!”
This is a stunning blow. I take my leave and fly back to Klein-Eiche. On the journey my mind is full of the last hours. I know now that I shall have to defy the order. I feel it my duty to Germany, to my native land, to throw into the scales my experience and my continued personal effort. Otherwise I should seem a traitor to myself. I shall go on flying whatever the consequences may be.
The Wing flies a sortie in my absence. Pilot Officer Weisbach, whom I have grounded because I need him as operations officer, goes out on a tank hunt with W.O. Ludwig, a first rate gunner and holder of the Knight’s Cross of the Iron Cross. They fail to return, a loss to us of two invaluable comrades. These days we must give everything we have, we cannot spare ourselves. To me these operations are a greater strain than ever before because my disobedience to an order of the Supreme Commander preys on my mind. If anything should happen to me I should be refused military honors and be disgraced; the thought often worries me. But I cannot help it, I am in the air from morning till night. All my officers have been tipped off that if I am wanted I am not flying, but “have just gone out.” Individual claims of tanks destroyed have always to be entered on the daily returns, sent every evening to the Group and the Air Command naming the gunner in every case. Since the new order grounding me has been in force my claims are no longer included, but are credited to the unit as a whole. Hitherto claims have been entered in this category only when two separate gunners have attacked the same tank when, in order to avoid duplication, the claim was reported under the heading: “Name of gunner doubtful; success attributed to unit.” Latterly we have constant queries from higher levels pointing out that we have previously always been able to give the gunner’s name, why this sudden large entry under “joint account?” At first we get out of it by saying that now whenever one of us spots a tank we all dive onto it simultaneously as everyone wants to be in at the kill.
One day during my absence on a sortie a spy in the person of an officer of the Luftwaffe turns up to investigate and pumps my operations officer who after exacting a promise that he will keep it under his hat lets the cat out of the bag. On top of this a general catches me once at Grottkau airfield to which we have recently been moved just as I return from a sortie. He does not believe my assurances that it was only “a short test flight,” but it does not matter, for he tells me “he has seen nothing.” I was soon to discover, however, that the truth had filtered through to the High Command. One day soon after the general’s visit I am again credited in the war communiqué with eleven tanks destroyed and simultaneously another distance call summons me to Karinhall. I fly there and meet with a very disagreeable reception. The Reichsmarschall’s first words are:
“The Führer knows that you are still flying. I presume you have realized that the news has reached him from yesterday’s communiqué. He has told me to warn you to give it up once and for all. You are not to embarrass him by forcing him to take disciplinary action for disobedience to an order. Furthermore he is at a loss to reconcile such conduct with a man who wears the highest German decoration for gallantry. It is not necessary for me to add any comments of my own.”
I have heard him out in silence. After briefly asking me about the situation in Silesia he dismisses me and I fly back the same day. Obviously I have now reached the end of my tether. I am clear in my own mind that I must go on flying if I am to keep my mental balance in my country’s present predicament. Regardless of the consequences, I still feel that I am answerable only to myself. I shall continue to fly.
We hunt for tanks in the industrial and woodland region of Upper Silesia, where it is comparatively easy for the enemy to camouflage himself and difficult for us to spot him. Our attacking Ju. 87s dodge in between the chimney stacks of the Upper Silesian industrial towns. At Kiefernstadtel we meet some of our own shock artillery whom we have not seen for a long time, and help them liquidate the numerically greatly superior Soviets and their T 34s. Gradually a new line is being established on the Oder. To build up a new front out of nothing, that is something only Field Marshal Schörner can do!
We often see him now when he visits our base to confer with me on the momentary situation and to discuss possible operations. The results of our reconnaissance, especially, are of the greatest value to him. At this time Squadron Leader Lau is reported missing with his crew; he is hit by flak and has to force-land in the Gross-Wartenberg area and is captured by the Russians. He comes down right in the midst of a Soviet force after an attempt to land near-by has proved impossible.
Slowly the Oder front is established a little. I receive an order by telephone to move the Wing immediately to Märkisch Friedland in Pommerania and the 2nd Squadron to Frankfurt, the situation there being more dangerous than it is in Silesia. Thick driving snow prevents our moving in close formation, so we take off at intervals in threes heading for Märkisch Friedland over Frankfurt. Some of our aircraft come down at the intermediate airfields at Sagan and Sorau. The weather is abominable. At Frankfurt they are already waiting for me to land; I am to ring up my old base at Grottkau without delay.
When my call has been put through—I learn that soon after my departure Field Marshal Schörner had been over to see me and had raised Cain. Banging his fist on the table he had asked who had given the order for me to leave his sector. Flight Lieutenant Niermann, my operations officer, had told him that the order came from the Group and the Air Command.
“Group and Air Command indeed! All window dressing! I want to know who took Rudel away from here. Ring him up at Frankfurt and tell him to wait there. I am taking the matter up with the Führer himself. I insist on his staying here. Am I supposed to hold the front with nothing but rifles?”
I learn all this over the telephone. If I am to reach Märkisch Friedland before dark I have no time to waste. I ring up the Führer’s H.Q. to ask whether I am now to continue or return to Silesia. In the first case, Field Marshal Schörner must release my personnel at present detained by him at Grottkau so that I may have my full complement of staff and material when I arrive. I am informed that a decision has just been reached: my wing has definitely been transferred to the north as the situation in that sector which has recently been put under the command of S.S. Reichsführer Himmler is indeed more serious. I land at Märkisch Friedland with the first few aircraft in a dense snow storm and complete darkness; the rest of the unit is due to arrive tomorrow, the 2nd Squadron will remain at Frankfurt and operate from there. When we have found makeshift quarters for the night I ring up Himmler at Ordensburg Krossinsee to report my arrival in his sector. He is pleased that I am here and that he has won the duel with Field Marshal Schörner. He asks me what I would like to do now. The time is 11 P.M., so I reply: “Go to sleep”—for I want to be out early to get a general picture of the situation. He thinks differently.