Oct. 5, 2013

The new revisionist book The “Extermination Camps” of “Aktion Reinhardt” has been put online and it contains enough ammunition to “kill the holohoax dead,” but lies don’t seem to die as long as a world media monopoly exists that wants to keep them on life support. It takes getting the word out and too many White European activists still want to stay far away from “the holocaust,” pretending they just don’t understand it! Well, the authors Carlo Mattogno, Thomas Kues and Jürgen Graf have laid it out in a very readable, even entertaining, free online book, so there are no longer any excuses.  Some points made during the program:

• This 1500-page work is a response to a 570-page work written by the five Holocaust Controversies clowns against our author’s previous separate books on Treblinka, Belzec, and Sobibor;
• This work has brought forth a “conspicuous mass of new documents” and “many new arguments more solid than those published before”;
• Mattogno says this book marks “the end of the legend of the “Aktion Reinhardt” extermination camps (falsely called "Reinhard" by holohoaxers), and also their last word on it;
  
• Graf says 3 groups have a vested interest in keeping “the holocaust” alive – they are 1) Zionist Jews, 2) Poles and 3) the Western Allies + Soviet Union;
• Polish underground “hero” and Georgetown U. professor Jan Karski (Kozielewski) managed to lift himself from an ordinary lieutenant in the Polish Army to “the man who tried to stop the Holocaust” by telling lies about what he saw;
• Karski invented the story of “death by quick lime in rail cars” at Belzec rather than gas chambers – a story that has since been buried along with so many others;
• The UN Statement on December 17, 1942 that condemned “Hitler’s bestial policy of cold-blooded extermination” of Europe’s Jews, admittedly based on reports without any proof, was pushed by Jews to the various governments.

Image: Map showing location of alleged camps along border with Soviet Union, from south to north: Belzec, Sobibor, Treblinka. Also notice location of Warsaw, Lublin and Auschwitz. Also note location of Warsaw, Lublin and Auschwitz.

'Bibi' Wenger enters the Luftwaffe flight service training and drops the Bibi to become 'Poldi from now on.

copyright 2013 Wilhelm Wenger and Carolyn Yeager

Translated from the German by David Coyle

Oschatz, November 18th and 26th 1939: On Wednesday November 15th I set out from Berlin and was at the airport by noon. I’ve swapped Pomerania for Saxony as my new residence. Our accommodations are set in the woods, very nicely surrounded by the pines. We are five to a room, an agreeable number, and we have parquet flooring. None of us recruits is older than twenty-one.

Gilbert Geisendorfer learned of his success in his school finals at the very last moment in an inspection. At first it seemed his schooling was done, but that turned out to be deceptive for there is always more to learn, although of different sorts of things. During this time all the other soldiers and I have learnt a great deal in new areas. Naturally no one is flying yet. I’m doing well for cash: we’re on wartime pay like all soldiers and get 1 RM per day.

The recruits at Oschatz, 1939 (looks like 'Poldi in front on left)

December 2nd 1939: We have been given the dates for our first leave. Christmas is out. This is the first Christmas I will celebrate far from home and family. But we've been promised that unless there is some unforeseen problem we will be on leave from December 29th until January 6th. No complaints, we recruits must be happy and thankful that we get any leave at all. Our fares will be paid.

We’ve put up Christmas wreaths in all the rooms and even in the corridor, so the barrack has taken on a festive look. We have now spent half of our conscript training period here on base, which naturally leaves us out of sorts. Tomorrow we'll be allowed off base for the first time. I’m not tempted and will likely stay at home, for I like it much better on the airfield than in the town, which is almost an hour away by foot.

Marching the recruits at Oschatz, 1939

On Thursday the whole company saw Franz Lehar’s operetta Der Zarewitsch. We liked it very much and found it a pleasant surprise. At one point our group leader arranged an evening party for us in the canteen. Of course, I don’t much care for these evenings of chat and beer guzzling, but you mustn’t isolate yourself. Besides our NCO is a sensible man, and the other groups can really envy us. An example: I was issued a brand-new topcoat, which one of the instructors tried to force me to trade for an older one; our NCO heard about it, and I kept my new coat. We all find him agreeable. About the locals: These Saxons! What a people! I like the Prussians much more, but men are creatures of habit.

My room-mates consist of another two officer cadets, a cabinet maker, a baker and a locksmith. A few days ago we officer cadets started wearing red stripes on our epaulettes, so we must be careful to put on a good show. I like our living quarters very much, except for the horrible amount of smoking. This is something I shall never get used to for it nauseates me at once.

Right: Leopold in full dress as cadet pilot in 1939, Oschatz

December 9th 1939: Right, so I’ll be home on the 29th. Until then we shall be following a tough routine with no time for the celebrations. Besides, in these parts we shall be having recruit inspections over Christmas, and so there are daily preparations. My old classmates from Leoben sent me a card. It's hard to imagine being back at school again, and I don’t envy them. Here we have a fine life, even though the pace is “quick step” from morning to night.

Tomorrow we are again allowed out until 11 pm, and perhaps I will overcome my disinclination and go into town. Of course I'd much rather have my Sunday rest to sleep myself out. There is a big Christmas celebration planned for the company, but I think that if there is to be beer without limit it could turn out to be a booze-up.

Special Christmas party set up in the barrack - those definitely look like bunks in the background. We see 'Poldi seated 4th from the left.

December 20th 1939: Now my recruit training time is done. On Monday we had our recruit inspection and it turned out very well. We are all happy that it is over and done with. Now we are having a quiet time of it, and it is such a strange feeling, as if every day were Sunday. Aunt Leni sent a Christmas package from Pernegg, and Grandmother sent a packet with apples from Gleichenberg. In addition the company made a fine Christmas celebration in which every soldier got apples, nuts, and cigarettes as well as a great Christmas stollen [a bread-like fruitcake]. And so my locker is as stuffed full as a hamster’s storeroom. I also have had my first trip off base, which was only good for more saluting than on the airfield.

We were all deeply shaken by the fate of our battleship “Admiral Spee”. This was certainly no minor loss for the navy. Here the candles burn every evening on the Christmas wreaths, and increase the anticipation for the holiday. I hope there is plenty of snow at home. In any event Willy should keep himself ready for ski outings. I am very glad that I can at least get home for the New Year. I am also very curious to find out what my little brother Gerhard looks like.

Poldi is home on leave for the New Year Holiday. The nation is at war; the faces of Dad and Mom show their concern as they toast the new year, along with younger brother Willy. 

At the Pilsen Pilot School

Yesterday, January 21st 1940, I was the first to arrive in our room at about 8 pm. The last occupant arrived at noon today. The train was well heated and I got some good sleep. The barrack was much less pleasant . . . during the thaw, water had got through and some of the beds, chairs and flooring were covered with ice. Luckily, my bed was better positioned and spared. I turned up the heat at once and things improved before the first of my new roommates trundled in after midnight, one of them with a radio.

February 8th 1940: We have had a hard freeze and quite a bit of snow. But yesterday there was a sudden thaw. The miseries changed correspondingly: earlier feet were cold, now they’re wet. Today it was into the flight suit and furlined boots for the first takeoff, and then straight up. This is quite a different thing to flying a glider; now I’ve got to know Pilsen and surroundings from the air. It’s funny how small people and houses appear, almost like toys, quite unreal. I found it especially difficult to locate myself on the map, but it’s supposed to be hard in winter. I hope the weather stays as good as today for a long time; there’s no takeoff in bad weather. From 6,000 down to 1,000 meters you have such a wonderful, unobstructed view; couldn’t be bettered from any mountain-top. The first flight was in a Stieglitz FW44 and lasted 21 minutes; the second was in a Heinkel He 72.

Kicking off the first flight service

February 13th 1940: There’s a mass of news from home. More than anything else, I’m glad our boys from the west front will be spending their leave in the Untersteiermark [Styria] . . . I don’t know what I would give to be able to help. There’s not much to report here. The wonderful thaw stopped as suddenly as it started, and has turned to a shitty cold with slick ice everywhere under a dusting of snow. You cannot imagine the cold when flying; you must take care not to land with frostbitten cheeks or nose. By now I’ve been in the air quite a bit, and also been thoroughly bounced about. Every day must be used for training, so now even Sundays must be spent on the base while there is good weather. But we do as we please off-duty, so tomorrow I hope to visit the cinema. “D III 88” is playing. [A German film about pilots-in-training with a dramatic plot -cy]

There’s a story to tell about the canteen, for although our pay has gone up we also spend significantly more. Sadly, in this canteen there is everything to tempt a soldier’s heart, and we go past it every lunchtime—there’s beer, milk, spirits, eggs, sausage, etc. When I think how little milk you get at home, while there’s no limit for us here, I can only shake my head.

I hear that the school finals will everywhere now be held in February, which surely means the school year will also end early: Willy must make sure to finish in good order. The next time I get home on leave I hope my little sister will be less skinny, and Gerhard will be able to run to greet me.

Pilsen February 18th 1940:  Yesterday afternoon we had fine weather, and I went up six times. Willy seems to think I’m flying a Ju 52. Quite the contrary: I’m flying a little two-seater biplane.

Poldi on his first take-off in a Stieglitz FW 44

Apparently a cold wave has descended on the entire country. Sometimes, the temperature is only -20º in the mornings. In spite of the fur-lined boots I have chilblains on both feet, which is not much fun. But we have been issued thick pullovers and warm scarves against the cold, and so far there are no cases of hypothermia.

Odds and ends: We have now also been issued walking-out dress and flat caps, though I prefer my old uniform. My thanks to Willy for the Condorlied, but as we sing it a couple of times almost every day I already knew it fairly well. I saw the film "D III 88" that Willy likes so much.

Heise [the friend from the Napola Köslin] is now stationed in Potsdam. I learnt from him that our Latin master at Köslin, Lieutenant Adam, has died on the Western front. I don’t know at all where Gilbert Geisendorfer is located. Neumitz from Steyer is in Mähren, and is also flying regularly.

I had to break off this letter as we still had flight duty this afternoon. I made five more take-offs. Visibility was poor today with considerable ground mist. It just now occurs to me: we will probably be able to choose whether to take our leave at Easter or Pentecost. If so, I'll choose Pentecost, I think that would be best.

At Pilsen, soldier-musicians entertain the living quarters

Pilsen, March 3rd 1940:  On Luftwaffe Day we were off-duty in the afternoon, so I was able to get into town fairly early. I took the opportunity to shop for some items that are becoming scarce. Just about everything is available here, naturally not everyone has this chance, so please write and tell me what what you might need. For example, shoes, socks, shirts, yarn, etc. I’ll send the whole lot home as soon as the customs barrier is lifted. For myself, I picked up a flying shirt, socks, darning yarn and handkerchiefs; we had just got our pay. So write as soon as you can, so that I have time to get everything.

The weather here is now first rate and the snow almost gone, so that we can hope to put in a really good amount of flight duty. I flew eight times yesterday, and today we have our first free Sunday. A rumour is going the rounds that we shall be posted to another station. Well, well! We shall see.

Now to quickly answer Willy’s questions. Whether I also control all motion of the joystick? Willy will be excited to hear that we hope to be making our first solo flights by the end of the month. How many times I have flown? A huge number of times. And our flight suits are not heated. I hope that satisfies him.

Pilsen March 18th 1940: Last week I was on sentry duty Thursday and Friday, on exactly the day when there was a great parade of the troops through Pilsen celebrating the anniversary of our occupation. I was only able to see the fly-past in the distance. The weather was wonderful, yes so wonderful that the field thawed completely and men and machines were stuck fast in the muck. But now it has snowed again. It makes you sick. We were already celebrating the end of this rotten weather.

An early morning start in an AR 66. This shows the student pilot seat behind the instructor's seat.

Father asked if I was flying solo yet. This is the way it is—on the first flights the instructor sits in the front observer’s seat and we students sit behind him in the pilot’s seat. For some time now, I believe I can say that it’s quite as if I were flying solo. If the weather were only halfway decent, and the field a bit drier, then there would not be much missing to feel as an independant “lord of the skies.”

When my instructor wanted me to practice dealing with dangerous conditions, I flew above the clouds for the first time—we flew around, over and through the towers of cloud. That was quite undescribably beautiful, and we were also quite high. And then, pactice for emergency landing, a crazy business. The instructor cuts off the fuel and shouts, “Emergency landing!” At about 1,000 feet one must already have one’s eye on a likely surface. You come down any way you can, and get aligned for a landing. But as soon as the wheels touch the ground, the fuel is switched on, and up you go again. And this is repeated somewhere else from the beginning. Of course, the funniest thing is to catch a couple of people in a field, and then watch them tearing away from the machine roaring down at them.

You can see what fun we have at our work. Yesterday, Sunday, was Armed Forces Day. The local German population were allowed onto part of the airfield, and a couple of the instructors did some low altitude stunt flying. One of the hangers was cleared out and turned into a sort of beer pavilion. You are quite right, our machines are open crates, with just our heads peeping out. Willy would never see a thing without a couple of pillows packed under his parachute.

Pilsen, March 26th 1940: Easter is past, it was quite lovely. Of course I was lumbered with sentry duty on Good Friday and the following day as well, but on the Monday we took a very early bus to Karlstein, and from there on to Prague. Our Lieutenant treated us to this wonderful trip, and acted as our guide. First we looked over the Karlstein castle, the old repository of the Reich insignia. We also took our luncheon there and then went on to Prague, where we were given a fact-filled guided tour of the city. Partly by motor, and partly on foot we were led through the historic sites. We were in Hradschin in the coronation chambers under the care of the Reichsprotektor. Through the window of the Fenstersturz ["Defenestration" - Also see here], we gazed at a marvellous panorama of the city. Next we were in Wallenstein’s palace.

"Looking through the window of the Fenstersturz we gazed at a marvellous panorama of the city."

And watched the Czech Guards at the Hradschin (Hradcany) - Prague Castle

'Poldi took pictures at the famous Charles Bridge in Prague

and the St. Veits-Dom (Cathedral) 

We had seen so much that we could scarcely retain it all. In the evening we still had two hours to spare, so we settled into a cafe in Wenzelplatz and looked out at the lively bustle in the streets. One would never see such a commotion in the streets of Pilsen. We returned to Pilsen during the night

The trip was a complete success for what I believe was our lieutenant’s plan, namely, as they say, to expand our artistic and historical horizons. For all of us, it was especially beautiful. In addition we were also given a holiday package: two cigars, 20 cigarettes, and two pounds of apples. They could have passed me over for the smoking supplies, but smokers among us were very pleased.

Pilsen, April 3rd 1940: Today was a very special day for me. After three weeks the weather was finally good enough for flying, and on top of that I was able to make my first solo flight. My dear Parents, I think it may entertain you and Willy to know how it turned out for me and how I felt.

Well, everything went quite quickly. First two flights with my flight instructor, then one with the instructor for the group, and then the front seat was empty. There were two little red flags marking the machine as containing someone “dangerous,” and warning all other machines in the air to keep their distance. At last I had the signal to start, and off I went at full throttle. Through it all I was not excited or unsure in the least: it was simply a repetition of the hand movements I had practiced so often, and for the rest I relied entirely on the feel of the plane. All through the flight I could feel the effect of the reduced weight it was carrying – all on it’s own the machine climbed up and away, and so I flew over Pilsen’s suburbs. And then came the landing. I had surely practiced enough, what could go wrong?

When I rolled back to the starting line, the flight instructor was the first to come and congratulate me, and then came all the others, all of them one after the other. With us, the first solo flight is a great occasion. Two others managed their first solo flights today so that this evening everyone is in great spirits. Altogether I was up five times solo.

So that’s the latest news. I’m sure you’ll share my pleasure over this first successfully completed test. I hope the good weather holds for a few more days so that we can thoroughly exploit this happy time. According to what we have been told, we may be reposted as early as next week, but so far nothing is certain.

The customs barrier into the Reich has still not been lifted. A request for Willy: could he kindly dig up Gilbert’s address for me? Willy flatters me when he asks if I am already a lance corporal. I’m afraid we will have to wait just a little bit longer.

To be continued

Oct. 12, 2013

Carolyn continues examining the new revisionist book The “Extermination Camps” of “Aktion Reinhardt” by Carlo Mattogno, Jürgen Graf and Thomas Kues. Chapter 5,“The Führer Order and the Alleged NS Extermination Policy” exposes the lies, plagiarism and bad faith behind the “Five Bloggers” attack on our revisionists' previous work on "Aktion Reinhardt". They claim N-S intent to exterminate every Jew in Europe! A few highlights:

• A salute to Capt. Erich Priebke who has died of natural causes at age 100;
• The ever-elusive “Führer Order” had to come between summer 1941 and summer 1942 – since a  surge in “atrocity reports” began in August 1942;
• Two pillars of the extermination camp myth are “eye-witness testimony” and “confessions of perpetrators” – without that the whole edifice falls;
• The word Sonderbehandlung (Special Treatment) was not removed from the Korherr Report (as supposedly requested by Himmler);
• Attempts to prove an N-S policy of extermination by Mass Starvation fall flat; likewise with turning a reprisal policy for partisan terrorism into Jewish Extermination;
• The two Gas Vans were fueled with generator gas– not appropriate for homicidal purposes.

Image: Supposed to be a massacre in Poland, but it could be a composite. Why are the dead piled up like that? And why would a Pole be able to take this picture? In any case, reprisal for killing/mutilating German troops was legal and necessary, whether in Poland or Russia.

Oct. 14, 2013

Carolyn takes selections from Carlo Mattogno’s chapter 5 and 6 in The “Extermination Camps” of “Aktion Reinhardt” that deal with Holocauster’s claims of “decimation by labor;” “local exterminations” which took place before the “final solution” was given by Hitler allegedly between Dec. 7 and 14, 1941 (Pearl Harbor!); Himmler’s order to shoot the Jews in Pinsk; Hitler’s comments to Hungary’s Horthy on “burning his bridges” and Jews likened to bacilli and pests. Some other important points:

• In the occupied territories, the Germans needed to direct the Jews from the countryside into the cities (ghettos) to lessen the danger of partisan activity;
• By far,  most of the shootings in the Soviet Union and Poland consisted of reprisals for guerrilla terrorism against Wehrmacht troops and supplies;
• The “Lorpicrin gassing” shows the kind of fake stories that are accepted by orthodox holocaust historians;
• Eichmann’s testimony for “gassings” at Chelmo, Treblinka or Belzec, used by holocausters, is useless because contradictory;
• German ministers serving  in the East had difficulty finding a way to deal with their dangerous Jews, as they could often not be sent somewhere else;
• Mattogno shows that Poles and Serbs were shot for partisan activity along with Jews – it was not a policy aimed at Jews alone;
• Hitler, in his meetings with Hungary’s Horthy in 1944, used the word “decay,” not "exterminate," in referring to the fate of the Jews who would not work.

Image: German troops in 1941 stopped before a German-posted sign that warns of “Partisans – Danger” and “hold (yourself) ready.” [For an enlarged view, go here.]

This lifesize concrete sculpture depicting a Red Army soldier raping a pregnant woman appeared next to a Soviet tank at the site in Gdansk, Poland that is meant to memorialize the "liberation" of the city from National-Socialist forces in 1945.

It is the work of Jerzy Bohdan Szumczyk, who is now facing up to two years in prison for the possible charge of inciting racial or national hatred. He placed it there during the night without permission and police removed it only a few hours later. But, according to authorities, the damage was done.

The sculpted soldier, identifiable as Russian by his helmet, is kneeling between the legs of a heavily pregnant woman lying on the ground. He holds her by the hair with his left hand while with his right he puts a pistol into her mouth. Szumczyk titled the piece "Komm, Frau" (Come, woman) which was the common phrase used by Soviet soldiers signaling to a German woman they were going to force sex on her and she should cooperate.

As was to be expected, Russia's ambassador in Warsaw, Alexander Alexeyev, proclaimed "deep outrage" that Szumczyk had "defiled by his pseudo-art the memory of 600,000 Soviet servicemen who gave their lives in the fight for the freedom and the independence of Poland." He called for an "appropriate reaction" from Polish authorities.

Rape of women in the hundreds of thousands, particularly German women (from girls as young as 7 to elderly women in their 70's), by Red Army soldiers was and is well-known, and occurred during the last months of the war and after the war. But discussion of these crimes has remained taboo in Russia. 

Oct. 21, 2013

Thomas Kues‘ very important chapter 7 titled “Where They Went; Reality of Resettlement” from The “Extermination Camps” of “Aktion Reinhardt” is looked at as well as time allows. The hypothesis the three revisionists draw from the evidence is that when the war was coming to an end, and for several years afterward, Josef Stalin (right) engineered the “disappearance” of hundreds of thousands to over a million non-Soviet, non-Russian speaking  “foreign” Jews into concentration camps in Siberia from whence they did not return. Highlights:

• The plan of the National-Socialists to deport Europe’s Jews into ghettos in the occupied East (until a permanent place of resettlement could be found after the war) is documented;
• Jewish detainees able to work were in demand as labor in the armaments industry and  for infrastructure work  near the Front as much as possible, as were Prisoners of War;
• The only Jews that were “liberated” in 1945 were those in camps in Germany proper;
• The deported Jews trapped in the Soviet Union and Soviet-controlled territory were further deported by Stalin to Siberian Gulags and became “unpersons”;
• Stalin benefited most from the myth of the “Nazi gas chambers," and even his anti-Stalinist successors would not question it because it upholds the Russian “good guy” history;
• January 27th has become “International Day of Commemoration for Victims of the Holocaust” – more about that next week.
  

Thanks to James Damon (right) for the English translation of this outstanding interview given by Erich Priebke to his Italian attorney Dr. Paolo Giachini and translated anonymously into German.

See UPDATE 10-24 from Dr. Giachini and Robert Faurisson at end of interview.

 The Interview

Question: Herr Priebke, several years ago you stated that you never deny your past. Now that you are 100 years old, do you still think that?

Answer: Yes.

Q: Would you please elucidate?

A: Long ago I made the decision to remain true to myself.

Q: So, do you still consider yourself a National Socialist?

A: Loyalty to our past determines our convictions and our character.
This is the way I view the world and my ideals. It is what was once our German Weltanschauung, the way we view the world. It is what still determines my sense of honor and my self-respect. Politics is something different. National Socialism perished with the defeat of Germany and today there is no longer any prospect of its continuation.

Q: Does this Weltanschauung that you mention also include anti Semitism?

A: If you want to discover the truth with your questions you must stop using certain clichés and prejudices, because to criticize does not mean to exterminate. Since the early 20th Century the conduct of the Jews has been widely criticized in Germany. The fact that Jews exercised enormous economic and political power, even though they were a very small part of the population, was considered unjust. Today it is still a fact that, if we consider the thousand richest and most powerful men in the world, we must acknowledge that a very large number of them are Jews, Jewish bankers and Jewish owners of multinational corporations. Especially after Germany's defeat in the First World War and under the yoke of the Versailles Dictate, Jewish immigration from Eastern Europe led to a catastrophe in Germany. This was caused by their sudden immense accumulation of capital at a time when the overwhelming majority of Germans were suffering severe poverty under the Weimar Republic. In this climate of desperation the usurers greatly increased their wealth, which caused feelings of frustration and resentment of the Jews.

Q: What is your opinion about the old story that Jews are allowed by their religion to practice usury while this is forbidden for Christians?

A: This is certainly not my idea. You have only to read Shakespeare or Dostoevski to realize that, in the historical perspective, such problems with the Jews have existed from Venice to St. Petersburg. This does not mean that Jews were the only usurers, however. I agree with the poet Ezra Pound, who said "I see no difference between a Jewish usurer and an Arian usurer."
 
Q: Do all these things justify anti Semitism?

A: No, Jewish usury does not mean that there are no upright and honorable Jews. I repeat what I just said: anti Semitism implies unconditional hatred. Even during the long years of my persecution I, an old man deprived of my freedom, always rejected hatred. I choose not to hate even those who hate me. I insist on nothing but the right to criticize and I always explain the reasons for my criticism. I would also like to point out that, because of their unique religion, many Jews consider themselves superior to other peoples. They identify themselves with "God's chosen people" as mentioned in the Bible.
 
Q: Didn't Hitler also speak of the superiority of the "Aryan" race?

A: Yes, Hitler also succumbed to ideas of racial superiority, and this caused certain errors from which there was no returning. However one has to consider that racism was the norm all over the world. It was not just a popular belief, it was enshrined in law and government. Even after the Americans ceased being slave dealers and importing Africans they continued highly racist and they practiced official discrimination against black people. Hitler's first "racial laws" did not restrict the rights of Jews any more than Americans restricted the rights of negroes in many states of the USA. The same was true of English discrimination against Asian Indians. The French acted no differently toward their so-called inferiors in their colonies. We won't even mention the treatment of ethnic minorities in the old Soviet Union.
 
Q: In your opinion, what brought about the escalation of discrimination against Jews in Germany?

A: The situation became radicalized and ever more intense. It turned into German Jews, Americans, British and then global Jewry on one side and Germany on the other. The situation forced the German Jews into an increasingly difficult position. The decision to impose restrictions on Jews in Germany made life ever more difficult for them. In November 1938 a Jew named Grünspan killed a member of our consulate in France, Ernst von Rath, as a protest against Germany. The result was Reichskristallnacht in which groups of demonstrators throughout the Reich smashed windows of Jewish shops. After that the Jews were treated strictly as enemies. After coming to power, Hitler initially encouraged the Jews to leave Germany. Ultimately, in a climate of great and growing distrust of Jews caused by war, boycotts and open conflict with global Jewish organizations, the Jews in Germany were interned in camps as enemy populations. This was of course a catastrophe for many innocent families.
 
Q: So, in your opinion, were Jewish sufferings their own fault?

A: Jewish suffering was inextricably connected with the War and there was guilt on both sides. There was guilt on the side of the Allies who unleashed the Second World War against Germany after the partitioning or repartitioning of Poland. This was a region in which the large ethnic German population was exposed to constant depredations, a region that had been placed under control of the newly resurrected Polish state by the Dictate of Versailles. Nobody raised a finger against Stalin's Russia on account of the partitioning. On the contrary: At the end of the conflict, which ostensibly came about to defend Poland against German aggression, Stalin was rewarded with all of Eastern Europe including all of Poland.
 
Q: Apart from political revisionism, do you sympathize with historical revisionism?

A: I am not sure just what "revisionism" means. If we are talking about the Nuremberg Tribunal I can only say that it was political theatre. It consisted of fantastic show trials staged for the sole purpose of depicting the German nation and its leaders as inhuman monsters. Its aim and purpose was to slander our defeated nation, which was completely unable to defend itself.
 
Q: What is your basis for this allegation?

A: What can you say about a self-appointed "court" that prosecutes only the crimes of the vanquished while ignoring those of the victors? What can you say about such a "court," in which the victors are simultaneously accusants, prosecutors and judges and impose unique new criminal laws ex post facto merely in order to convict? Even US President Kennedy called the Nuremberg trials "disgusting." In his words, they "violated the American Constitution in order to punish a defeated enemy."
 
Q: Even if, as you allege, the "crimes against humanity" for which German leaders were convicted in Nuremberg had not previously existed as such, but were first so designated by the International Tribunal, must it not be said that the charges were based on horrible crimes?

A: Consider that at Nuremberg the Germans were prosecuted for the Katyn massacre. Then in 1990 Russian President Gorbachev admitted that these same prosecutors had ordered the murders of twenty thousand Polish officers in Katyn Forest. In 1992 President Yeltsin published the original document ordering the executions, which was signed by Stalin. The Germans were even accused of having made soap from Jewish corpses. Bars of "Jew Soap" were exhibited in museums in Israel, the US and other countries. It was not until 1990 that a professor at the University of Jerusalem finally admitted that "Jew Soap" was a hoax.
 
Q: Yes but the concentration camps were not inventions of the Nuremberg Tribunal, were they?

A: In those terrible war years there was natural expediency in interning civilian populations that were considered a threat to national security. Every country did that. In the United States, persons of Asian descent were interned whose ancestors had immigrated generations before. Germany also interned civilian populations that it considered a threat.

Q: But in American concentration camps there were no gas chambers, were there?

A: As I have said, a great many bogus charges were manufactured for propaganda purposes. As for homicidal gas chambers in German camps, we are still waiting for proof of such allegations. The internees of course had to work. Many of them worked outside the camps during the day and returned in the evening. The severe manpower shortage during the War is incompatible with allegations of internees standing in line to be murdered in gas chambers. The danger of using a gas chamber extends beyond its immediate vicinity and would have been hazardous for everyone in camp, including the guards. It is an absurd idea that millions of people could have been sent to their deaths in this way, at the same place where large numbers were living and working. As a practical matter it is impossible.
 
Q: When did you first hear of a plan to exterminate Jews in gas chambers?

A: I was a prisoner in an English camp along with Walter Rauff when I first heard of such a thing. We were both amazed. We could not believe such a terrible story: homicidal gas chambers to murder men, women and children!
I discussed the matter with Col. Rauff and other prisoners for days on end.
We all belonged to the SS and were all Party members, serving in various capacities but nobody had ever heard of such a thing. Just imagine: Many years later I learned that Rauff, who shared many a hard loaf with me in prison, had been accused of inventing mysterious "mobile gas vans." No one who knew Walter Rauff could have come up with such an idea.
 
Q: What about the eyewitnesses to the existence of gas chambers?

A: No homicidal gas chambers were ever found except for one at Dachau, which the Americans built after the War. Judicial or historical evidence simply does not exist. The statements and confessions of camp commandants, the best known of which is Rudolf Hoess of Auschwitz, would be unacceptable in any real court of law. His admissions were wildly self-contradictory. He was severely tortured at Nuremberg, then gagged and hanged at the insistence of the Russians. In the absence of evidence, confessions of defendants and statements of witnesses were vitally important for the prosecutors. Reliance on coercion in cases where the defendants or witnesses refused to confess or testify was inevitable, and it included threats against family members. From my own experiences as a prisoner of war, as well as those of friends, I am familiar with the methods used to force confessions from German prisoners, who often did not understand English and could not read what they signed. The treatment of German prisoners in the Russian camps is now widely known: the prisoners were simply forced to sign whatever was placed before them.
 
Q: Do you consider the millions of deaths in concentration camps nothing but an invention of the victors?

A: I was personally familiar with the German camps. The last time I visited a camp was Mauthausen in May of 1944 in order to interrogate the son of Badoglio. I spent two entire days there and observed the huge kitchens in operation to feed the inmates. Mauthausen even had bordellos - it had everything except gas chambers! Unfortunately a great many people died in those camps at the end of the War but it was not because they were murdered. Harsh conditions, starvation and lack of care at the end of the War caused their doom. Civilian tragedies were not restricted to concentration camp inmates, however. They were the order of the day throughout Germany primarily because of the Allied carpet bombings of cities.
 
Q: Do you trivialize the tragedy of the Jews during the Holocaust?

A: There is little to trivialize. Tragedy is tragedy. We should be concerned with historical reality rather than "trivialization." It obviously was in the interest of the victorious powers to avoid being held responsible for the atrocities they committed. They totally destroyed entire cities in Germany in which not there was not a single German soldier in order to kill as many women, children and elderly as possible. Their intention was to break our will to fight. This was the fate of Dresden, Hamburg, Lübek, Berlin and many other cities. Our enemies exploited the advantage of their heavy bombers to target civilians in their homicidal frenzy. The same fate befell the population of Tokyo and then, with the atomic bomb, Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Because of these unsurpassed atrocities against civilian populations, it was necessary for the victors to invent bizarre stories of atrocities that they alleged were committed by Germany. They depicted Germans as satanic creatures in horror stories that Hollywood made into horror movies. Little has changed in the propaganda of the global power elite since World War II: they still see themselves as "exporting democracy" with "peace missions" against "scum." In the process they manufacture images of their targets as "terrorists" bent on committing ever more monstrous atrocities. In actuality they attack everyone who does not submit to their wishes, primarily with their air forces. They delight in mowing down masses of civilians and soldiers who lack the means to defend themselves. In the course of "exporting democracy" to one country after another it happens that their "humanitarian interventions" result in the establishment of puppet governments that serve their economic and political interests.

Q: How do you explain unambiguous evidence of atrocities such as photographs and films of concentration camps?

A: These films are in fact more evidence of falsification. Almost all of the pictures of "German death camps" are of Bergen Belsen. That was a camp that various agencies created by bringing inmates who were unable to work from all the other camps. There was a huge convalescent facility there, which tells us a great deal about the intentions of the Germans. It would be very odd to construct such facilities for prisoners who were going to be gassed. By 1945 the Allied bombing raids had left the camp without food, water, medicines and other supplies to combat raging epidemics of typhus and dysentery, which killed many thousands of inmates. The horrific movie of the camp was made in April 1945 after Bergen-Belsen had been devastated by the epidemics. The movie was made specifically for propaganda purposes by Alfred Hitchcock, the masterful English producer of horror films. The cynicism and total absence of human feeling in the movie are indeed horrifying. For many years Hitchcock's movie has been broadcast on TV accompanied by somber background music. It unscrupulously deceives the public by linking terrible scenes with gas chambers that did not exist. Pure falsification!
 
Q: So, in your opinion, the reason for this deception was to cover or trivialize the atrocities of the victors?

A: Yes, this was true even at the beginning. General MacArthur followed the Nuremberg scenario with the Tokyo Trials in Japan. In that case the victors again thought up novel crimes and atrocities that ended with the death of the accused by hanging in order to criminalize the Japanese, who had already suffered atomic weapons of mass destruction. The Allies even accused the Japanese of cannibalism!
 
Q: Why do you say it was "at the beginning" that the victorious powers used deceptions to cover their own atrocities?

A: Because after that, the Zionist state of Israel began using the "Holocaust" story for its own benefit. It profited in two ways. The first way is explained very well by Prof. Norman Finkelstein, the son of Jews who were interned at Auschwitz. In his book "The Holocaust Industry" he explains how "Shoa Business" brought many billions of dollars in damages and reparations to Israel and Zionist organizations. He refers to this as "regular organized extortion." The second way Israel benefits from "Holocaust" is explained by Sergio Romano, who no one considers a revisionist. Following the war in Lebanon, Israel realized that exaggerating and accentuating the dramatic elements in "Holocaust" literature gives it advantages in its territorial disputes with Arab countries. This gives Israel a kind of diplomatic immunity.
 
 Q: All over the world people refer to the Holocaust as "extermination." Do you deny or have doubts about that?

A: The propaganda of the global power elite is indeed overwhelming. A historical subculture is manipulating the world's conscience by playing on our human emotions. The younger generations in particular are being brainwashed in school, besieged with gruesome stories that suppress their ability to think critically or form individual opinions. As I stated earlier, the world has been waiting for 70 years for evidence of the atrocities for which we Germans are blamed. The historians have not found a single document supporting the existence of homicidal gas chambers. Not a single written order, instruction, report by a government agency or communication by personnel. There is absolutely nothing. In the total absence of documentation the judges at Nuremberg pointedly assumed that the German program for a "permanent solution to the Jewish problem," which provided for the deportation of to Madagascar or other locations in the East, was a secret code word for "extermination." How absurd! In 1941, while the War was fully under way and we were still winning in Africa as well as Russia, the Jews were encouraged to leave Germany voluntarily and then they were more strongly encouraged to leave. Only after the War had been underway for more than two years did Germany introduce measures to limit their freedom.

Q: If evidence such as you mention - that is, a document signed by Hitler or someone else in the hierarchy - were found, what would be your reaction?

A: In that case I would propose a rigorous investigation of the crimes indicated. Any use of force against groups that does not take individual responsibility into consideration is unacceptable and should be condemned, absolutely and without exception. Extermination is what happened to the Indians in America, the Kulaks in Russia, the Italian Foibe victims in Istria and the Armenians in Turkey. It is what happened to German prisoners in the American death camps in Germany and France as well as in the Russian camps. Some died on orders of General Eisenhower, others on orders of Stalin. Both Eisenhower and Stalin deliberately ignored the Geneva Convention in ordering those atrocities. All crimes against humanity must be unambiguously condemned, and this includes persecutions of the Jews. I mean real persecutions, not false and hate-filled allegations invented for propaganda purposes.
 
Q: Do you admit the possibility that evidence of exterminations by Germans at the end of the War might have eluded historians and could some day come to light?

A: I just stated that certain crimes must be condemned unconditionally. In the extremely unlikely event that we should one day find real evidence of the use of homicidal gas chambers in German concentration camps, then the imperative for prosecution of whoever planned and carried out such crimes would be unequivocal. In my long life I have learned that surprises never end but in the case of homicidal gas chambers I feel absolutely safe in my conclusion. For almost seventy years the German documents confiscated by the victorious powers have been minutely examined by hundreds of professional historians, thus it is extremely unlikely that they will find any such evidence in future. It is unlikely for another reason as well: even while the War was still under way, Germany's enemies had begun spreading rumors about mass murders in our concentration camps. I am referring to the Allied declaration of December 1942 in which they speak of "barbarous atrocities" against Jews in Germany and demand punishment of those responsible. By the end of 1943 they were not only continuing their usual propaganda, they were manufacturing falsified evidence of atrocities. The first news I had of this came from my comrade Major Paul Reinicke, who served as chief of the escort of Reichsmarschall Göring, the number two man in our government. When I last saw him he informed me of Allied plans for systematic falsifications. Göring was furious because he considered the falsifications scurrilous and outrageous. Before he committed suicide he denounced the falsifications in the strongest terms before the Nuremberg Tribunal. I later received additional information about Allied falsifications of evidence from Chief of Police Ernst Kaltenbrunner, who succeeded Heydrich after his death. Kaltenbrunner too was sent to the gallows following the show trials. I visited him shortly before the end of the War in order to report on the evidence pertaining to the treachery of King Vittorio Emanuel. Kaltenbrunner informed me that the enemy propaganda agencies were busily manufacturing falsified evidence of atrocities and gruesome concentration camp stories about German brutality. He said the enemy propaganda ministries had reached agreement on details of a unique procedure for dealing with the losing side. Most significant of all I met General Kaltenbrunner's close colleague, Gestapo Chief Heinrich Mueller, in August 1944. I was admitted to officer school on his recommendation, so I was greatly indebted to him, and he liked me as well. He was sent to Rome in order to assist in a personal problem of my commander, Colonel Herbert Kappler. At that time the American Fifth Army succeeded in breaking through at Cassino while the Russians were entering Germany. The War had already been lost.
Mueller invited me to his hotel where, on the basis of mutual confidence, I ventured to question him on further details of the Allied plans for postwar Moscow type show trials. Mueller informed me that through our espionage we had received explicit indications that, in expectation of victory, the enemy was manufacturing evidence of German atrocities in order to stage spectacular trials. The purpose of these trials would be to criminalize Germany. He knew many exact details and was seriously concerned. He said our enemies could not be trusted to conform to international norms because they were completely unscrupulous and had no concept of honor whatsoever. I was still rather young and did not give his words the credence they deserved, but everything turned out exactly as Gen. Mueller had said. He knew the names of the enemy propagandists who, as we know today, concocted the stories about exterminating Jews in gas chambers. I would consider all this to be ridiculous and laugh at it if the results had not been so tragic. When the Americans invaded Iraq in 2003 under the pretext that Sadam Hussein possessed "weapons of mass destruction" and Secretary of State Colin Powell delivered his brazenly false oath to the U.N. Security Council, I said to myself, "There is nothing new under the sun!" The imperialists, the only ones who have used such weapons in war, are accusing small countries of having them.
 
Q: Are you aware that several laws in Germany, Austria, France, and Switzerland impose prison sentences on those who deny the Holocaust?

A: Yes. The global power elite has demanded such laws and soon Italy will pass them as well. The object of such laws is to make people believe that those who oppose Zionism and Israeli colonialism in Palestine are anti Semitic. Anyone who dares to criticize Zionism is called an anti Semite. Anyone who dares to ask for evidence of the existence of gas chambers is automatically persecuted as an advocate of exterminating Jews. It is devilish manipulation, but these laws expose the global elite's fears that the truth is coming to the surface. The elite is terrified that despite its vast propaganda campaigns, historians will demand evidence and scientists will expose falsifications. The very existence of these draconian laws opens the eyes of those who still believe in freedom of speech and the indispensability of independent research. Of course I am aware that I can be prosecuted for what I have just said. My situation would become even more difficult, but I must say these things because they are true. For me, courage to be truthful is duty to my Volk. It is an expression of gratitude for the hundred years of life that was granted me. It is my contribution to the dignity of my Volk.
 
Signed: E. Priebke
"From the vantage of my hundred years of life!"

UPDATE 10-24 sent by James Damon:  Following is a left-out portion of Dr. Paolo Giachini's interview with Erich Priebke concerning the events of 1944 in Rome.

On 23 March of that year [1944] the Italian Communist assassin GAP attacked a company of German police from South Tyrol in order to provoke retaliatory actions on the part of the Germans.

33 German policemen died immediately; ultimately the total number of deaths was 42 Germans and 10 Italians, including an 11-year-old child. [52 in all! -cy]

Through Kesselring, Hitler gave orders to Priebke's superior Herbert Kappler, commander of security services in Rome, that 10 Italians must be shot for every murdered German,as allowed by international law to deal with unlawful insurrection. This order was carried out in the Ardeatine Caves on 24 March 1944. Five persons too many were shot by mistake so that a total of 335 Italians were shot in retaliation for the 42 Germans killed. [But 42x10 is 420, so it was not 5 too many -cy] For Erich Priebke and his comrades, carrying out these shootings was a horrible experience. They would have preferred to not carry out these retaliatory measures. However this was an order from Adolf Hitler, the commander-in-chief of the German Army, and no member of the German military could refuse such an order.

From Robert Faurisson's Blog, Thursday, Oct. 17, 2013:

Captain Erich Priebke was in Rome in 1944 when thirty of his comrades in arms were cowardly murdered, blown up by a bomb planted in via Rasella by Communist-led partisans. Another hundred of his comrades in arms were wounded by the same bomb, a large number of them permanently blinded. He was especially disturbed on learning that an eleven-year-old Italian boy had also been killed, his body cut in two by the blast. So, just a minute: what man, what woman, in such circumstances, could keep a cool head? One may add that Priebke was among those who received the order from Berlin, transmitted by his superiors, to execute the following day, in reprisal, approximately ten men for each victim. Read complete blogpost.

*********************

The translator is a Germanophilic Germanist who makes the writings of German dissidents available to those who do not read German.

Leopold Wenger, 18 years old, flashes a smile as he waits or rests with his fellow officer cadets on the flying field at Klattau, in the Pilsen region.

copyright 2013 Wilhelm Wenger and Carolyn Yeager
Translated from the German by David Coyle

Continued from "Letters - flight training 1939-40"

Pilsen, April 12 1940: We are in for a change again, and it starts tomorrow. The bags are already packed; we are to spend two months entirely on our own at a camp in the Böhmerwald [Bohemian Forest]. It is supposed to be first rate living there,and we are already celebrating. For the pilot's license, I must train for at least another six months; the first solo flight is only the beginning. In the overland training I intend to cover long distances, as a sort of survey of Germany. But this is still a couple of months away, for we must still learn a great deal about navigation, and without navigation there is no flying. Most failures do not come from a lack of flying skills, but rather from inadequate ability in navigation, and with that everything stops at once. Really Willy, how are things? I am surprised that he didn't join the Flier-HJ if he was able to.

"Our Klattau cottage"

Early morning just before start of service - Klattau

Adjusting the parachutes

Klattau, April 17 1940: We've had half a week here in Klattau, and I like it even if everything is fairly primitive. We are located about 7 km outside the city. There is only our group and a few people from technical personnel. Here, drill is greatly reduced, while duty periods are very tough. But here flying takes first place, which is quite to our taste. We get our post daily from Pilsen by a postal airplane. Yesterday was taken up with solo target landings from 2200 feet with the engine switched off. That was great fun.

Practicing target landings

High altitude flying "above the clouds" in a GO 145

Klattau, April 25 1940: I haven't written for a long time, but that comes from the fact that for the last while we've had continual flight duty from 6 am until 8 pm. In addition, I've had sentry duty, and on the 20th an inoculation which left me shivering with a bad fever.

On the 21st I finally made my high altitude flight. One and a half hours at 6,300 feet above ground level. I used the opportunity to fly over Pilsen and the Böhmerwald, until the time was up.

On the 23rd we visited a village Neumarkt in our own special way, which is to say we made a rough landing on a village meadow, which made a sensation all about. The schools were closed, and so all the town children came running. The people were pressing so much against the airplane that we had to bring in border guards to control them. For us it was a treat to see German civilians again, for the people in Klatttau [Czechs? -cy] are especially horrible and loutish to the soldiers.

We have now completed the first part of our training, Class A, and have already started training on the heavier B machines. Today I shall make an overland flightin a machine of this sort.[Overland refers to landing in a different location than you started from -cy]  Navigation in the Protectorate of Böhmen and Mähren [Bohemia and Moravia] is difficult because there are no distinctive lines or locations.

You already know that I am promoted to lance corporal, retroactive to April 6th. The theoretical A2 examination now awaits; there is a lot to learn, and the load is especially heavy because we are on duty until dusk and have no electric lighting. We shan't be here much longer; after the flying skills, which we've already begun, we go back to Pilsen.

"We visited a village Neumarkt in our own special way ... all the town children came running."

"We have already started training on the heavier B machines." Here the AR 96.

Klattau, May 4 1940: It is of course hard for one of my old leaders who is still in Leoben. The most important man is Marek. Willy knows him. At the time, he led the illegal Hitler Jugend in Leoben. He also presented the first confirmation that HJ musters were held at our house.

It had been raining for the last few days which naturally means no flying; in its place we drilled like demons. But we didn't let it get us down, and looked forward to flight duty all the more.

We are currently training for solo flight skills. I really storm up into the air. Most people always enjoy this: spins, looping, sudden turns, etc. at 5000 feet in a Bücher-Jungmann. Formation flying with the heavy machines is less fun; one must be so careful to maintain formation that it is impossible to take in the scenery.

Next week our theoretical examinations are due, and so far we have had no time to study. I doubt that anyone has ever been trained as quickly as we have been trained. Until now the B 2 training took an entire year, and even then one was still far from flying a Ju 52 ... that was something for a C school.

I have still not flown an enclosed plane.

My chilblains are quite cured, but the skin has all of a sudden started scaling on my ears leaving sores. It must be the result of some mild frostbite.

In a recent comic event, I was flying an Ar 66 at speed, and wanted to hand-adjust the rear-view mirror on the upper wing. I reached up from the pilot's seat without thinking about the slipstream, which was so strong that my hand was struck backwards instantly. I have learnt to be more careful.

Gilbert has written that he is also flying solo.

Poldi took this picture while flying an FW 58 over Klattau.

Klattau flight training

Pilsen, May 24 1940: Another week has gone by since we returned to Pilsen. It is so lovely here that our airfield is hardly recognizable. Must also say that our beautiful 1-A flying days at Klattau are also past. When we got back we had a few theoretical examinations to get through. A flying technique examination is in the waiting. And I am not done with formation flying. For the moment the routine is one day flight duty, followed by one day of theory. You will have noticed that in all of this I am to cover the requisite overland flight kilometers.

I flew with my flight instructor over Marienbad and Eger to Cham in the Böhmerwald, and then through the Fürth depression back to Pilsen. While flying, I had to show that I was able to continually track our progress by position and time. And as everything went well, on Wednesday I was given the job of flying a machine from Aigen to Pilsen. I was so happy to be back in the Steiermark again. Three of us were taken to Aigen in a W 34.

There each of us took charge of a He 72 and off we went over the Alps. It was a beautiful but very cold flight over the Pyrn Pass, Wimdisch-Garsten, and Wels to Pilsen.

That time I was in the air for two and a half hours, and yesterday I was sent up again, this time in an Ar 66 from Pilsen to Plauen in Vogtland, then over Ascha/Straubing to Ainring. This is the airfield which the Führer always uses on his way to Berchtesgaden (still today an important smaller airport in Bavaria -dc). There I met others from our group who had also landed there. Unfortunately we had only two hours together as a storm was brewing over the Alps.

Today I flew to Ainring over Braunau am Inn [Hitler's birthplace], then over the Böhmerwald, past the Großer Arber [highest peak in the Bavarian Forest] and over Klattau to Pilsen. I was quite tired, and had eaten hardly anything the whole day. Since we get a special issue of rations for every hour of flying time, and because, so far, out of simple haste I have left behind the on-board rations, today I was issued more than I could reasonably eat alone: a liter of milk, two eggs, chocolate, biscuits, 10 rolls, a double ration of butter, glucose and cream slices. In just two days I've covered 1100 km; if this continues I'll reach the target number all too quickly.

We hear daily of the successes of our troops with enormous happiness and excitement, but are annoyed that in all likelihood we will not be sent into action, because it will still take some time to finish up here and then to go through our specialization training.

Pilsen, June 7 1940: Unfortunately I was not able to write sooner. We have now all completed our overland kilometers.In the process I have traveled a lot. I've been in Breslau, then in Brünn. On May 28th I flew to Straubing (on the Danube), from there over the beautiful Thüringer forest to Gotha, then over Bayreuth, and finally from Gotha over Saalfeld back to Pilsen. Then the weather was so bad that we put in a few days of infantry duty.

On June 1st I flew to Weimar with my instructor over Marienbad, Eger and Plauen in quite miserable weather. While I was there I met a flier from the same time at Köslin [Napola], who is stationed with Gilbert in Berlin. In the evening we went into Weimar together. The next day we flew back to Pilsen in the afternoon. On June 3rd I flew to Straubing, and then to Braunau am Inn, and back over Klattau to Pilsen.

On June 6th after putting in a four hour flight, I had my examination in flying skills. And now we are to learn radio-navigation. When I use the radio, I work very slowly and carefully which reminds me of our days as recruits. I hope to complete the B 2 school during the summer holidays, but everything will need to work out well. If so, then perhaps I can get a couple of days' leave.

In a W 34 over Cham

Poldi (on left) and fellow airman returning from a cross-country flight

Ainring, July 7 1940: You will be surprised that I am writing from Munich. I was very surprised myself to be sent here today, especially as we had been told that we would only be flying on tomorrow. So I have time to write, but I am without my fountain pen, hence the pencil.

From June 20 to 30 we trained at an airfield in Cham in the Böhmerwald. Here we flew the whole day through, from morning 'til night, once even flying through the night until 4 am. This continued in Pilsen, with the difference that overland flights were added. One day my instructor and I set out for Klagenfurt, but the fog over the Alps grew so thick that we got thoroughly lost in our great two engine machine until we were able to make out Windisch-Garsten after the Pyrn Pass. From there we turned towards Wels. Once I made a very boring bad weather flight to Markersdorf near St Pölten. There we were grounded for three days by the weather. Flying these days is more fun than it was in the small machines; we now fly with a crew of four.

The latest flights to Prien, Cham, Bayreuth and Munich have been “instruments only.” Naturally we always have an instructor on board with a radio. It is, of course, not very cheering when we are curtained in and can see nothing of what is happening outside. But according to our time table, we must take off in just this way. In this way we leave Pilsen in the early morning, make three or four stops through the day and usually get back to Pilsen about 8 pm. Then we quickly wash and eat, and fall into bed to be ready to repeat the performance in the morning. All the same this can't continue much longer; time must be set aside for theoretical instruction.

Pilsen, July 1940: I should be very interested to know how things turned out for Willy in school. Today completes half a year since I returned from leave; Gerhard must have grown a lot. We are done with the the flying part of our training and haven't flown in the last fortnight. Next week the theoretical examinations begin. Only there is no time for study, because we are always drilling; we even spent today, Sunday, racing about the countryside.

On Saturday we were on duty until just before 10 pm. Any comparison between school here and Oschatz is laughable, but that's the way it is for officer recruits. We are to be finally posted on August 13th. Unfortunately we completed our training three weeks early, and now must wait until the time is up, consoling ourselves with drill. It used to be always so, that when the group finished up early, we could go on leave, but we officer recruits make a special case, we call ourselves the “penal colony.” We are happier about the the new posting where we shall at last begin our specialised training.

Pilsen, July 1940: Today I took my two last oral examinations (airplane engines and meteorology), and with that our group has completed its studies. That is to say, we are now the Luftwaffe's youngest military pilots. Over the next few days we shall be issued our pilot certificates. Naturally, I have already ordered a pilot's dagger from a firm in Berlin, and I shall be very happy when I can wear it for the first time. Now that we are done with the schooling we drill from morning to evening, longing for our marching orders and new postings (but these may take another two or three weeks). I am very anxious about where I shall be posted. I have applied for Stukas or fighters. I should much rather be able to spend the time at home, if the whole family were gathered together.

(During the holidays, our mother took the children to our summer house in Bad Gleichenberg.)

Also, I was taken aback to read that Willy cycled the entire 130 km from Leoben to Bad Gleichenberg in a single day. That's a fine achievement for the young rascal.

Pilsen, August 3 1940: Dear Dad, I write in great haste before going on duty. Thanks for your letter which came in yesterday. Except, to my horror, I got the letter as a personal delivery by the sergeant major himself, instead of through the post as usual, and got a tongue-lashing into the bargain. The point was that you addressed the letter to “Military Pilot ...”. Now that we are at war, there must be no written identification of anyone as cavalryman, rifleman, or airman, only the strict military rank, in my case lance corporal. So please, dearest Papa, write only to Lance Corporal L. W. etc.

Pilsen, August 15 1940: Today I can share a pleasant bit of news. After 4 weeks of quite hard drill we had an inspection today and we have also been promoted to NCOs, and this, retroactively to June 1st. I can't tell you how happy I am about this, even though we had been counting on it. Now we are going about with our new uniforms, and it is an amusing feeling to suddenly become a superior of the other ranks.

Together with the promotion, we have been told where we shall be posted next. I am to go to an airfighter school at Schwechat near Vienna, where I shall get my specialised training. Sadly nothing has come of the Stuka dreams. In spite of that I am glad to be sent a bit closer to home. Besides, it is perhaps possible, dear Papa, that you can come to Vienna with Mom, where we can meet.

This evening we shall be stepping out with our officer supervisor to a bar in Pilsen for a farewell celebration. It will be our first evening outing on which we are allowed out with limits set according to our new rank: until 2:00 am. And tomorrow it is off to Schwechat. I am already curious to find out how my new quarters will look. Hopefully I shall not be disappointed. From now on, besides the regular pay, I shall be getting a professional soldier's salary. It is supposed to be generous; I shall let them surprise me.

Special Training in Schwechat

Schwechat, August 17 1940: (to Mom in Bad Gleichenberg) I don't know whether or not you already know that I have been transferred to Schwechat. It is still not certain whether we (I am here with 11 other officer recruits from Pilsen) are to stay here, will go on somewhere else, or even be able to go home on leave. I have been granted my first outing to Vienna: Sunday until 2.00 am Monday. The airfield is here in Schwechat, quite a distance away, with a station on the line from Pressburg to Vienna, and from which station I shall be most often travelling to Vienna. I am very glad to be out of Pilsen's wooden barracks. Here we have lovely stone buildings again, and I share my room with three others. I was in Vienna on Sunday and saw the Technical Museum there.

(Dad and Willy met with Bibi in Vienna.)

We have been assigned a Fähnricht [Ensign] supervisor. He has talked of a steamer trip on the Danube, over Saturday and Sunday.

Schwechat Fighter Pilot School with "lovely stone buildings."

In front of the hanger at Schwetchat

A Stuka Hs 123 at Schwetchat

Schwechat, September 30 1940: Yesterday and the day before I was in Vienna again. And Saturday evening I was at the Staatsoper to see “Madame Butterfly.” It was wonderfully beautiful. The opera itself and the staging alone were wonderful. I liked it very much. I had quite a good seat for only 3.50 DM, the price of course reduced by 50%. We got our tickets so very inexpensively through our Wehrmacht care station. Otherwise the best seats cost 40. DM

I am now promoted to Fähnrich [lowest grade in the Prussian officer hierarchy -dc] retroactive to the first of the month, and can now wear a portepee [part of an officer's kit in the form of a decorative looped cord with a large fob, intended to be attached to his dagger -dc]. I had been an NCO scarcely a month and so the promotion came as a great surprise. This time the order was announced directly by Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring and so was made effective a bit faster. It is really something the way so many of our instructors from Pilsen, who were still our superiors two months ago, must now produce stiff salutes for us. In the coming month we must be as good as done with our specialised training. Then I hope that we shall finally get a few days leave. It would certainly be good for all of us. I have already been retrained for the Me 109. This is a very fast bird.

Schwechat, October 9 1940: Last Sunday there was a military concert in the city in front of the Johann Strauß memorial. That was another one that I made sure not to miss. On Saturday I shall probably go to the opera again for Verdi's “Don Juan.”

Schwechat, October 30 1940: Imagine my rotten luck: Saturday morning I get tickets for a Sunday evening performance of “die Meistersinger.” And now we are ordered back to base by 10 pm. Annoying because it would have been my first Wagner opera.

On Monday, that is, tomorrow, we shall practice firing from the air with the Me 109. This is a marvellous thing; I am already very happy about it.

Cranking the engine of an Me 109

Flying the Me 109 - "a very fast bird."

Schwechat, November 3rd 1940: On the 15th, on my first military anniversary there is to be a final inspection. What happens with us after that, no one knows. The three months in Schwechat have gone by so quickly, and I can scarcely believe I could find such a pleasant life anywhere.

Schwechat, November 11 1940: On Wednesday November 10th I was given my pilot's badge. No need to say how happy I was about it. I wore it for the first time yesterday in an outing to the Burgtheater (“der Kanzler von Tirol”).

Luftwaffe pilot's badge

Schwechat, November 13 1940: On Friday we set out for foreign parts. I am to go to Merseburg an der Saale near Halle. For what reason, I have no idea, and neither have I any great desire to be annoyed by my dear friends, the Saxons.

Merseburg, November 17 1940: We arrived after a trip of almost 24 hours. The arrival reminded me very much of Oschatz, and also we were all unpleasantly disturbed when we saw the internal arrangements here for the first time. In Schwechat we had divine peace and quiet. Towards the end we were only two to a room, which was very pleasant in itself. The only thing that has pleasantly surprised me, is the casino which is grown very large. There is no hope of leave from here. It is also unclear how long we are to stay here; depending on circumstances, it may be for several weeks.

The family enjoying Poldi 's two-day November leave in Leoben: little sister and brother, Gretl and Gerhard, and Mom and Dad (with bicycle). Photo probably taken by Willy.

Merseburg, November 24 1940: (Surprisingly Bibi was, all the same, given another two days leave.) I arrrived here early, just after midnight. The trip went very pleasantly. I was only obliged to change trains once, and that was in Nuremberg. From there I caught an express. There was only two hours waiting time in the entire trip, and so I arrived here 15 hours early. It is a great annoyance that there is no later train to Munich. The NSV [National-Socialist people's welfare] was distributing sweet coffee and soup to the soldiers. So I started to eat my sausage buns, and to nibble at Mom's cake. Things have also changed a little here. Although I was only two days at home, it feels as if I had been with you just as long as last time.

Active Duty

France, December 5 1940: [The final location could not be disclosed, but was surely in the environs of Le Havre. -dc] Our journey that began in the early hours of Sunday morning came to an end this afternoon.As you can imagine, I saw a great deal in this time. When our rations were distributed in Aachen I sent a quick note. I hope the card was also received. From there we went to Maastricht, then through Belgium, Liège and countryside. Here I saw the first traces of the war.

The little I saw of Holland was very nice, while I didn't care at all for what I saw of Belgium. Then we traveled on through the night arriving in St Quentin at daybreak. One area of this city is entirely destroyed. Then it continued at an unbelievably slow pace -- mostly because so many bridges were out -- on to Compiegne, where we arrived at 4 pm and got fed. Here, the entire area about the station was completely destroyed. Naturally, I took photographs whenever I could, but the weather was almost always bad.

I was happy when we got into Paris at 10 pm (December 3rd); we had all had quite enough of the train travel, even though we were in a 2nd class compartment. Sleep was scarcely possible. I spent the first night sitting; the next night I climbed into the luggage rack at once. In Paris we finally got proper beds and food from the Red Cross. On December 4th our train was only to leave in the afternoon, and, even though Paris is off-limits for soldiers, the Wehrmacht treated us to a thorough tour. So I managed to take in the most important sites in the little time we had: Napoleon's tomb, Place de la Concorde, Eiffel Tower, etc.

We travelled through the night, and reached our unit at midnight. I stayed the night in a country house. We waited through the morning sitting over an open fire in the living room; in the afternoon we were travelling again. I am now located in a small town in Normandy in provisional, i.e. quite miserable, quarters. ...I have already been into the town this evening. It is in any event more agreeable than Merseburg. I don't know whether or for how long I shall be stationed here. As I write we can hear the bombers overhead, rumbling on their way to England.

As far as the people here are concerned, they live fabulously well. This evening I ate, in what is called an “hotel,” a great roast of lamb, white Bordeaux and oysters. Everything was quite inexpensive, although prices are supposed to have gone up significantly. I am very glad to have been able to have one more time at home with you, even though briefly, for otherwise I should have had to spend more time on the train, even with good connections. I have nothing else to tell: I am doing well, like “God in France,” and I am in good health. [So as not to misunderstand, “like God in France” is a proverbial metaphor meaning to live luxuriously without cares -dc]

France, Dec. 20th 1940: My Dear Parents, The Christmas celebration is getting nearer, but we have not noticed it much here, for neither the weather nor the surroundings produce any sort of Christmas mood. It is still relatively warm here. The temperature stands at about 10° (centigrade) for days on end, so naturally there is no question of snow. We put some effort into finding a Christmas tree, but there was none to be had anywhere. We have been told that a few are still being sent from home. Duty is very agreeable and varied; most commonly we are on watch, waiting for the Tommy who never appears. Day by day I like this room better. Now I even have heating in three forms: hot water [radiators], warm air [ventilation] and an open fire. So the room is as cozy-warm as a bakery. The food is equally superior. Every day we even have as much wine as we please. One needs some restraint to avoid becoming a drunkard.

I wonder if you've received all my letters, as I've written a good deal lately. Well, it's past midnight, so I must close.

Dear parents, I wish you and my brothers and sister the merriest of Christmases; I shall be with you in spirit.

Heartfelt greetings and kisses from Bibi.

France, Dec. 28 1940: The Christmas festivities are over. We used a pine for our Christmas tree as nothing else could be found. I was the one who hauled the tree from 60 miles away in my truck. Now our Christmas Eve: our celebration was just for our unit. We started with our roast hare and the usual side dishes, then the famous Christmas stollen, and lots of apples, nuts, etc. There was wine, sparkling wine, beer and spirits until we were senseless, more accurately falling-down drunk. We also hired a band composed of men from the air-defence. “Father Christmas” appeared and distributed presents. Naturally I was thinking of you the whole time.

We are a hour behind you so that as your tree was burning it was still broad daylight here. In general there was not much in the way of Christmas spirit.

On Christmas Day 1940 Poldi is in the "Sitzbereitschaft" (readiness seat).

On the 25th I was on observation duty again, which means being in position at first light, and staying outdoors the whole day. On the 26th I was in the military cinema ... and that's the way time goes by. As far as I can tell the French don't celebrate Christmas at all—I found a single shop stocked with cakes.

Wine on the other hand can be had everywhere. So there have often been days—I confess it to my shame—that I've fallen into the feathers with a fuzzy head.

As for everyday life and doings which Dad asks about: Basically I still have a lot to learn here, and must get used to the new surroundings.

I had my first enemy contact on December 10th. This is how it came about: I was on observation duty and complaining because lunch was late, then I heard motors, and thought it was the truck bringing the food. I looked out at the window and suddenly saw bombs exploding. I was told that I said, “Those are really bombs.” At that point everyone was under cover; but then we raced out to the machines to “scramble” after the Tommy. But he immediately disappeared into the clouds over the Channel. We hunted him over the water for a long time, but he must have raced off like a poisoned ape.

On the same day we chased another one, but it grew dark so quickly that we had to feel our way along the coast to get back to our airfield. Today I had another contact which had been spotted by a submarine. Naturally they didn't wait for us to catch up with them. Every night our position gets shot up, and the air-defence puts on a fine display of fireworks.

It is unbelievable how much the people took Major Wick's death to heart. I was so happy to have been posted to his wing directly, and now I shall never see him again.

-End of letters from 1940-

"I am on the beach almost every day," writes Leopold Wenger to his family from his location in France on the English Channel coast.

These letters, of both human and historic interest, have been made available to me by Willy Wenger, 'Poldi's younger brother. Willy is the keeper of the family memorabilia and has done a great deal of research into the April 1945 demise of his brother. -cy

copyright 2013 Wilhelm Wenger and Carolyn Yeager
Translated from the German by Hasso Castrup

10 January 1941: Today I flew for the first time in the new year and have seen England's coast for the first time. About the false alarm in Leoben on Christmas Eve, I had to laugh.

So far none of us can fly! And for us, there are no more air-raid alarms; there is no time for that—bombing starts immediately.

20 January 1941: Today, all the snow has melted away. It's positively unpleasant—you can hardly believe it. The soil is just bottomless. It looks like Spring wants to begin already. I am almost every day on the beach, watching the sunset again and again, a truly wonderful, impressive experience. Today, however, there came up a very violent storm and I had to think of Mom whose desire  has always been to experience a storm at sea up close, with lashing waves. Our guards, however, are less enthusiastic about it.

8 March 1941: [After returning back from a vacation] I came back to my hotel half an hour ago, at 20 hours, and since I am a worthy son, I write immediately. I had a long stay in Trier. This morning, I arrived at 11 o'clock in Rouen, and I stayed there till 17 hours. I looked around in the city and saw what was there to see. The cathedral, harbor. Finally, I went to the soldier cinema. I came back with the last tram just before the front door closed for the night. 

9 March 1941: I've been back for a whole day here, but I cannot accustom myself to the routine.  I have not done any real service today, so am enjoying the Sunday. I have met a few people and had to report everywhere that I'm back. This afternoon I brought my place in order and then I paddled in the park lake. While I was away, a few of our men found somewhere two old paddle boats with which we now paddle in our "lake" and stage great naval battles. Only it's rather embarrassing if you fall into the water and are then soaking wet.

"This afternoon ... I paddled in the park lake ... it'srather embarrassing if you fall into the water..."

Incidentally, today was a wonderful day, a real Sunday. At first I took a walk on the beach and then went to the soldiers cinema, and then again at the beach. Everywhere was choking full of people.  I met a few friends who were going to take a ride with their motorboat. I was happy to join them and it was a wonderful boat trip. Finally, we docked at the pier in the middle of the night. Anyway, it was very funny.

Some terrible news today: On March 1st ration cards were introduced for all sorts of things. And I was going to have a suit made. I hope it will still be possible. 

Poldi and fellow pilot enjoy the early Spring sun at their lodgings in Le Havre, March 1941

13 March 1941: Since I got back I have not flown even once. But we have to do all kinds of nonsense. 

Here I will hardly get to fly because I have to go somewhere else, here in the area. I'm curious if it will be less stiff. I have not yet been to the city before closing time. I have bought only vanilla; was not able to buy anything else. I will hardly get any shirts, etc., precisely because the ration cards have been introduced and it is forbidden for us to buy fabric.  I will try my best.

On Monday, March 10th, we experienced a fairly loud midnight concert of flak and bombs. This time, Tommy had come with several machines. Sometimes we could see quite well when our anti-aircraft gunners caught them with the searchlights.  You can imagine the hellish concert. One machine was hit, then tipped over and it probably plunged into the water. The next day we visited the bombed location. It all went wrong for them (the Brits). A whole lot of duds were lying around everywhere. The streets were littered with flak splinters. It has literally rained with splinters.  

17th March 1941: The only thing I could find to date, as regards Mom's wishes, was vanilla. [French vanilla is famous -cy] While I cannot imagine what you can do with this black stuff, I hope Mom finds some use for it.

The chocolate is for my dear sister for the hair-cutting. And as to the iron: the large fragment is from a bomb that I saw strike on 20 December last year, the small ones are from anti-aircraft shells, which rained down on the night of 10 March. Please keep all of this for me!

For Mom, I got this fabric. I've already sent a similar one. If Mom can not use this stuff for herself, then use it for Greterl. I've also caught a starfish, cooked it, eviscerated and dried it. I think I did quite a good job. 

Our new pilot accomodations, Beaumont le Roger

21 March 1941: Beaumont le Roger  Now I have again changed my location and lay no longer by the sea, but in a small town. The journey here with the truck took a whole afternoon.  In this nest, you can buy nothing at all. There is no decent restaurant, pub or cafe, nor a department store. Thus, one is forced to be thrifty. We look like pigs, dirty from all the dust. Our first question was, of course, where is the bath. We are now two ensigns, a senior cadet (at the moment) and lead a great life. We live in a very nice, pretty garden.

Beaumont garden, above, and Laundry, below

On the first evening we were all greatly welcomed. In the morning, and by 2 o'clock, we had to stop the attempt to drink us under the table. At the welcome evening we were also asked who was the youngest and it turned out that I am. A packet was handed to me, to my surprise, which said: to the youngest pilot of our unit. This [treatment] is not hard to put up with! Incidentally, I have just sent 3 packets to Leoben.

1 April 1941: Well, I've been waiting eagerly for Dad's report on the reorganization Gleichenberg. In the summer I would quite like to come and see it for myself.

I have a lot to learn and it buzzes in my head—only tactics and more tactics! But it's all new to me and very interesting. Of course, I do no flying here. Our Mom will be somewhat calmed by that. But for me it is a disadvantage, since I'm out of practice. Willy should learn English properly because, if he wants to become a pilot, he must bear in mind that one can use this language in many places.

11 April 1941: Effective from 1 February 1941 I was promoted to Oberfähnrich [corresponds to sergeant first class]. Within a few minutes, this occasion started an evening with booze since we celebrate everything that comes our way.

"Effective from 1 February 1941 I was promoted to Oberfähnrich..."

13 April 1941:  I have been on duty at the command post in the afternoon and, to our surprise, we had to leave the base, so that our festive Easter lunch got cold. Our orderlies, crafty guys, had purchased chicken for us pilots and let the cook roast them for us. We have been looking forward to it for days and then suddenly there was an alarm ordered (readiness). When we returned, the food was cold of course, but still very good. 

Our squadron's insignia, which is painted on our machines on the snout, shows a sword lying perpendicular and the inscription: "Horrido." A hunting call. This squadron was once led by squadron commander Helmut Wick. The hit list of the squadron is very high. 

Now almost every night we have seen and heard our night bombers fly to England. Tommy comes very rarely, and only in case of unfavorable weather, with low clouds—only then they fly. But if even one of us comes up there, he runs away, dropping his bombs no matter where.

19 April 1941:  We are still having a lot of fun. We are once again on the move. Today we have moved and early tomorrow morning we are to proceed further. How much I like that, you can imagine. But it's also great fun to see something new all the time.  As a result of an error, I am again without my luggage; it is a few hundred kilometers further, somewhere in a column which I will meet in a few weeks. 

25 April 1941: (probably Cherbourg) I was for all this time away, as part of the advance party, and now live in a city in a hotel. It would be quite as nice here, but we must stand in readiness from daybreak to dark, and that is from 5 hours in the morning until 22 hours. That we are really tired then can be imagined. You will surely see our lieutenant in the newsreels, because he has just scored his 20th air victory (Lt. E. Rudorffer). I'm now back to flying after quite a long break. Incidentally, two days ago I became a Lieutenant. Now I must go to Paris to procure the most necessary items.

Poldi becomes a Lieutenant!

29 April 1941:  Today I returned from Paris. I was like a pack mule. I now have all the accessories and materials for breeches, long pants and a tunic. Now I just need a place where I will stay longer and where there is an uniform tailor.  I have also bought a leather coat. It is perfectly designed, sits wonderfully and has a warm lining. Only it is unusually heavy. It is, of course, Luftwaffen blue. I could not find suitable boots. I still have the ration card. Now I only lack the dagger, but I did not want to buy it in Paris. For Willy, I could not find any other slippers than those from a Moroccan store.

Yesterday I was at the Eiffel Tower for the first time. The railway travel is pleasurable because I now get tickets for the second class. 

Poldi's group taking in the view from the Eiffel Tower in Paris

Looking down from the top of the Eiffel Tower

The young airmen viewing the Arc de Triomphe, Paris, April 28, 1941

The German soldiers' cinema in Paris

To be continued ...

Nov. 16, 2013

Warsaw-based historian Piotr Zychowicz has written two books since 2012 that are hugely controversial in Poland. Both are centered on tragic mistakes Poles made that added to their suffering during the second world war. The first is Pakt Ribbentrop-Beck, with the premise that Foreign Minister Beck should have agreed to ally with Hitler against the Soviet Union in 1939. The second is Madness ’44: How Poles Made a Gift to Stalin by Launching the Warsaw Uprising.  Zychowicz sees it as a disastrous mistake. Some highlights:

• Poland’s #1 enemy has always been the Soviet Union and/or Russia;
• Great Britain convinced Josef Beck he could prevent war by helping in the encirclement of Germany in ’39;
• England cynically used Beck to provoke Hitler to attack Poland and create war between Germany and Soviet Union;
• Churchill is the most terrible character in the whole history of Poland;
• Zychowicz says the National-Socialists had stupid genocidal policies in Poland and all Eastern Europe;
• Zychowicz admits that a problem for Poles is not thinking realistically about themselves;
• Today, Poland and Germany have a great relationship, says Zychowicz.

Image: Piotr Zychowicz and his second book.

Nov. 18, 2013

How two United States ambassadors serving President Franklin Roosevelt worked to wreck feelings of trust between Poland’s Foreign Office under Josef Beck and the government of Adolf Hitler. German Historian Dr. Alfred Schickel’s paper “Germany and Poland in American secret documents” examines the secret memorandums and telegrams sent by Drexel Biddle, U.S. Ambassador to Poland, which contained secret conversations held by William C. Bullitt, U.S. Ambassador to France, with Joself Beck and other high-level Poles such as Marshall Ridz-Smigly. Some important points:

• Beck met three times with Ambassador to France Bullitt during his private visit to Warsaw in November 1937;
• The content of these and other conversations were contained in four “confidential memoranda” sent by Ambassador Biddle to Sec. of State Cordell Hull (and Roosevelt);
• Poland accepted Germany’s actions on behalf of the Sudetan Germans in Czechoslovakia in 1938, and the break-up of the Czech state, because through it she also gained autonomy for Poles in the Teschen region;
• Biddle’s secret telegram of March 29, 1939 revealed that the planned response by Beck to any specific suggestion from Berlin would now be a “dignified, polite but firm” no;
• The U.S. even deceived Poland about the “Secret Additional Protocol” signed by Ribbentrop and Molotov on Aug. 21, and so the British government signed the Anglo-Polish mutual assistance agreement on August 25, 1939.
  

Also, the latest developments in the persecution of  Cornelius Gurlitt and the“Looted Nazi Art” scam and why it is a scam.

Click image to enlarge: William C. Bullitt, first US Ambassador to the Soviet Union, 1933-1936; US Ambassador to France, 1936-1940, seated in car with FDR. Bullitt played a prominent role in giving Polish diplomats the “American view” in 1938-39.  His second wife, Louise Bryant, was the widow of John Reed, the famous American “Red.”

'Poldi in Brest, France, 1941, in his Me 109

copyright 2013 Wilhelm Wenger and Carolyn Yeager
Translated from the German by Markus

Continued from Jan-April 1941

1 May 1941: [Still in the city of Cherbourg] Drunk sailors are found in all corners today because it is a common holiday. I used this free afternoon to thoroughly sleep myself out because where we live, and get up at 5 a.m. for emergency service which lasts until 10 p.m., drastically gets on one's nerves. Then the commuting from the city to our squadron location takes another half hour. I will be happy whenever I can go back to my squadron, which is heading further West.

How are my two little siblings doing? Is Gerhard still so terrible? Or has he gotten better? [2 years old] And Greterl [6 years old] ought to get her hair cut again, for then I will send her chocolate.

What did you say when you heard that I got promoted to lieutenant? It went quite fast. I was Oberfähnrich for only 12 days. I didn't even get a wage increase for being Oberfähnrich; a big lump sum will be paid all at once.

Right: Someone snapped this picture of  Lieutenant Wenger being saluted as he walks past sentry guards on May 7, 1941 in France, wearing his long coat.

2 May 1941: On a recent night, I was surprised by a bombing while walking home from the cinema. I heard seven bombs howl and fall. They banged terribly and I had a bad feeling when one bomb after the other exploded closer and closer to me; You can imagine how I ran!

Today I was resettled into another hotel and have got a very nice room. I live right in the middle of the city next to the beach. [Cherbourg-East?]

9 May 1941: Yesterday, when I came back from Paris, I had received a lot of mail. Today I returned to my old squadron on a very slow train that took 11 hours! We are now even further to the West, but still on the Channel. I have again a nice hotel room with a bathroom (but there's no running water at the moment).

The landscape and town are more beautiful than I'm used to seeing so far in France. On the coast of Normandy it looked similar to how Dad had always described Dalmatia. Every small garden is walled in, for up there a steady wind blows. Here in Bretagne [Brittany], it rather looks like Eastern Styria from what I can tell from the train ride. Hilly, small valleys and streams, blossoming orchards. There's just one thing I don't like, and that's the cold. It just doesn't get really warm. Even when the sun is shining high in the sky, there is this cold breeze off the sea.

When I was in Paris I visited all kinds of attractions. I had already seen the Triumphal Arch in April, but I went up onto a roof from where I had a panoramic view of the whole city. I also flew over Versailles and landed close by. [Le Bourget?]

The beach at St. Malo in May, 1941

The close-by seaside resort of Dinard, May 1941

May 10th, 1941: Yesterday evening, I went for a little walk in the city [probably St. Malo], and I have to tell you, this is the nicest place I have stayed in France. It seems to have been an ancient fortress with old city walls, military towers, ring ditches [moats] and marvelous parks with beautiful plants. The chestnuts are blooming now and so are most fruit trees.

Yesterday, one of our sergeants shot down a Spitfire. Our Lieutenant Rudorffer, who just scored his 20th air victory, was mentioned in the Wehrmacht-report a few days ago. On May 1st he received the Knight's Cross.

25 May 1941: [Theville?] Two days ago, we moved again. I received Willy's outraged letter:

(I had already started with the SG38, the training glider, that is. I was in the seat, was instructed, and all of a sudden an incoming rain prompted the flight instructor to take me off the plane. My 130km bike ride to the airfield was in vain, and I had the same distance to go back. Note from W. Wenger)

I felt sorry for him because of his misfortune, but at one point he will get his turn flying also. Maybe he has already done his first starts by now as I'm writing.

I, as well, complain about bad luck lately, for firstly the tailor bungled my uniform so that I can't really wear it now. Because we had to leave so suddenly, I was forced to just take it with me and have it repaired by another Frenchman, if that is even possible. During a flight, something broke in my engine. Fortunately, I was very high over the Island of Jersey and able to glide back to my airfield. Only a few days later, I had an engine falure during a test flight. And yesterday, I had to land on an alternative field due to bad weather. There, a mechanic steps onto the wing, slips and trashes the landing flaps. It's not getting any crazier than that.

Over the last days, one of our squadrons sank a submarine and a 2.5 ton steamship. The submarine goes to the account of Lt. E. Rudorffer.

11 June 1941: After I came to Cherbourg from Dinard, I am in now in the westernmost West of France [Brest]. I've now flown over the Atlantic Ocean. I'm in a nice lodging again, right next to a park with palm trees and agaves, close to the shore. We have a small sailing yacht with an engine. But we don't use all this to its fullest, for there is just not enough time and motivation for it.

In the meantime, we've experienced more bombings. They dropped three right in front of our house yesterday. I saw one machine crash and burn. The Flak always gives us a nice fireworks display.

I am well enough; it's just that my bad-luck streak continues. I damaged the engine of my machine when rolling it; then a suitcase got lost during my last transfer [relocation].

Lt. Wenger, on stand-by at Caen in early June, talks with Obergruppenführer Limberg (the big guy).

Landing an Me 109 - the most produced fighter aircraft in history with33,984 airframes from 1936-April 1945

29 June1941: (Cazaux) Recently I was in Paris again and from there we drove on to Bordeaux the next day. I'm having a great time here at the moment. We are in an isolated place, close to a large lake. All around, there are only woods. The nearest village has a population of about 300. Nevertheless, it's very hot where we are, measuring 50-60° C daily. All the men were given tropical helmets. I had a tailor make a light uniform jacket out of tent fabric. Today, it was especially hot and so I'm running around in tracksuit pants almost the entire day. Our guards wear cloth-suits and white tropical helmets.

Bordeaux, France, June 1941

Place Gambella, Bordeaux 6-41

"Ground staff" at work in the intense heat at Cazau in Southern France, July 1941

Technical service carried out under camoflaged hanger at Cazau

Right: There is also time for cooling recreation in Lake Cazau in their own sailboat. Temperatures reached between 50 to 60 degrees centigrade in July!

I was unlucky again yesterday! I wanted to take a sunbath after bathing. I laid down on the sand beach; a fresh breeze came from the Bay of Biscay and it was even pleasantly cool. I fell asleep and after about two hours woke up in pain, all burnt by the sun. It's difficult to walk today, so much does it hurt everywhere. There is no drinking water either. Brushing teeth is best done with bottled water. If we run out of that, then we use wine which we have in abundant quantities.

There is plenty of flying here, again. Our Commodore, Hauptmann Balthasar, has now made his 41st victory, for which he will probably receive the Oak Leaves.

This afternoon [a Sunday], a lieutenant and I from Horstkommando borrowed a pleasure boat and sailed in the fresh breeze. We had great fun, you just have to be very careful that such a big boat doesn't keel over in a strong wind..

July 3rd, 1941: Yesterday, I was at a seaside resort. At least there were more people. You should have seen the houses there; you would laugh! All of them are built very low, not one has a second story and everything is as small as toys, with all around little fences, or gardens with a few flowers in the sand. The streets with houses look like these comical half-Spanish houses that you have seen in pictures of Mexico. In general, an influence from Mexico is quite visible here. You notice this in all kinds of ways like the music, dwellings, lifestyle. For example, you will see bullfights. It's just not quite as flat as in Spain, according to the elderly matadors.

7 July 1941: Tonight, I am officer on night duty, and I sit in an office with a desk, a rug, a bunch of chairs and typewriters, telephone and cabinet. In a corner, there is my bike. It is still 35°C and I'm still sweating despite all of the easements. I have removed my tie but the thin canvas jacket is still too warm. It's 23 hours [11pm], I put some bottles on the water pipes to cool them, they are still lukewarm but nothing can be done. Today was very warm again, even though the record heat of 62°C was not beaten, thank God. I spent two hours this afternoon in the lake, then at the beach. There, the sun is not so unbearable.

If Willy really wants to fly by commercial airline, then he can happily have 50RM from me.

Yesterday, I had another wonderful excursion on our sailing yacht. It's great fun and it cools one off in this heat.

Unteroffizier Deinzer with a puppy, and wearing the white tropical helmet issued for the heat of southern France

19 July 1941: (Cherbourg-East) Yesterday, I took off from Southern France, Cazaux to Tours, 370km. Later from there to Le Havre, 240km and in the evening back to Cherbourg-East, 120km. I have lately been flying a lot through France. I was in Paris twice, and in Le Havre, Tours, Romilly, partially by train, or with my Me [Messersmitt].

July 28th, 1941: A few minutes ago, after an alarm, I had the wide expanse of the Atlantic Ocean in front of me and the Channel beneath me. Unfortunately, as so often, there was no contact with the enemy.

I saw aerial combat for the first time since getting back to the Channel front. Unfortunately, I wasn’t with my squadron, but I’m back with them again now. I’ve only been in two large-scale attacks, in
which I got into a few dogfights and came under anti-aircraft fire. Together with another plane, I flew straight into a swarm of enemy planes, where there was a lot of confusion and everybody was shooting at everybody else. I inflicted some serious damage on a Spitfire from a far distance, just as he was getting ready to shoot up one of ours. The Tommy started smoking very badly, and when I landed I could still see the splashes of oil from the Tommy machine on my own; he also splashed up the cabin of another plane of ours. The Englishman was long gone in a steep nosedive: I went after him as doggedly as I could, but I couldn't get close enough and so he escaped. But he certainly never reached home in that plane of his, because it was all shot full of holes. I didn’t have a single direct hit on my machine.

We have now got a little coati ("hog-nosed raccoon") from the Berlin Zoo. It's really fun to watch what this little fellow is doing. We also have a few dogs here now, it's a pure menagerie.

31 July 1941: This afternoon, we got quite elegant cakes and even a real torte as a snack. We have a driver who is a professional butcher, but he can bake delicious tortes with the most beautiful ornaments. The rations have become much better since the time of deployment has started. So we are all very satisfied now. If we got a few hours more sleep, we would be completely happy. We pilots moved from our castle to a corrugated steel hut [Nissan] a few kilometers away, just so that we could get more sleep instead of communing back and forth. It's not as nice out here, but while sleeping you don't realize that anyway.

The squadron's location at Brest

"We pilots moved from our castle to a corrugated steel hut [Nissan] a few kilometers away, so we could get more sleep."

The Me 109's in readiness (Bereitschaft) at Brest, July 1941

'Poldi on standby duty at Brest in August, wearing his tropical helmet

Inside the standby barrack at Brest, a pilot takes a rest

'Poldi in lifejacket, prepared to fly out over the Atlantic from Brest, 1941

22 August 1941: The day before yesterday, a few Tommies were shot down again. I flew escort for the emergency services at sea: shortly before dusk, we recovered an English lieutenant out of the Channel. He was very happy to have been saved. It was 50 kilometers off the coast, after all.

11 September 1941: Yesterday, I saw and talked to our new Commodore, Hauptmann W. Oesau. His predecessor Hauptmann Balthasar fell in aerial combat in July. Oesau now has the Oak Leaves with Swords.

Pilots of 3 Staffel; 'Poldi standing left - August '41

'Poldi plays with the squadron's pet Nassenbären (racoon)

Chassis-control check in September 1941

11 October1941:  After long and serious dental treatment - I could not fly for a long time - I am now since last Sunday back overland. I flew to Caen. I am pretty well familiar with the region by now, but a flight along the coast is still the most wonderful thing, especially around Dinard. St. Malo is terrific. And then the castle Saint Michel, standing in the middle of the lake, is an impressive sight. The same afternoon I flew back with an Me 108.

'Poldi's flyby shot of Mont St-Michal in Normandy

...and over the coastal town of St. Malo in October '41

On standby at Brest, October '41

29 November 1941: In the last days, the English attacks have strengthened somewhat. But this is good because the more Tommies come, the more Tommies go down. And so, every night a few need to come and the bombs keep missing their targets. A few days ago, for the first time, I saw a U-Boat from the inside. Looks pretty restrictive in there, inside this steel tube. Those men conducting war from in there are to be admired.

13 December 1941: Two and a half hours ago, we had an English dawn bombing attack in very bad weather. We shot down two bombers. By chance we made contact with six machines over the sea, at the same time saw a Handley-Page Hampton [British medium bomber]. Can you imagine what a scrimmage that became? We fell one after the other on the Tommy and with fast, combined attacks the rest were shot up, and then the engine was on fire. For us, it was a wonderful picture. The whole thing took place at low altitude over heavy seas. The survivors are said to have escaped by parachute. When the machine was all on fire, it reared up once again before it crashed into the water. The fuel exploded and it burned quite some time on the water surface. As it was pretty dark already, the drama offered a wonderful scene for us. First the tracer of the weapons, canons and MP's, then the flames of the burning machine and the flaming waters. A pity so many of us shot the Tommy.

We experience night attacks more often now; it's always a mighty shooting spree, and naturally you can't sleep.

-End of letters from 1941-

Dec. 2, 2013

In the first hour, Carolyn continues her criticism of  Mark Weber, and includes radio show hosts  Kyle Hunt, Rodney Martin and Deanna Spingola who have given Weber an easy time of it, rather than asking, and demanding answers to, tough questions. Mark Weber has been a disastrous director of the Institute for Historical Review and should be held accountable  for it. Rewarding people for failure and weakness is the absolute wrong thing to do if we are serious about turning things around for ourselves. [By the way, I forgot to mention I sent an email to MW on Sunday inviting him to come on my Saturday Afternoon program; he has not replied. I knew he wouldn't, but still, he could take the opportunity to defend himself ... if he had a defense.]

Second hour focuses on John Friend and his friendliness with Jews over quite a period of time. Why does he express himself as strongly as anyone does against Jews in White society, and at the same time link for no good reason to anti-Hitler websites run by Jews? John’s compulsion to have his finger in every pie leads to the conclusion that he is just dabbling and won’t last long in any of it. Carolyn finishes up with Adolf Hitler’s words in 1931 that “German life must be purged of all foreign (Jewish) elements that distort the true German Spirit.” Substitute Aryan for German.

This is a Plan of Treblinka drawn by Samuel Willenberg in 1984. (click to enlarge) It is one of the various maps of the camp published after the war which are found in the book Treblinka: Extermination Camp or Transit Camp? by Mattogno and Graf. All the "plans" have many inaccuracies. (This one from S. Willenberg, Revolt in Treblinka, Warsaw 1989, p 6)

By Carolyn Yeager

If alternative and pro-white Internet radio hosts persevere in bringing Mark Weber on as a guest, he should have to face tough questions about the ridiculous and harmful positions he has taken on homicidal gas chambers in German WWII transit camps.

Weber is Director of the Institute for Historical Review, which through the first half of its existance was a Holocaust Revisionist-promoting organization. Under Weber's direction, it discarded that focus and now exists as a rudderless, drifting entity, accomplishing nothing other than caretaking the archives that contain the work from its better days.

On Dec 4th, Mark Weber stated to a caller, Jim, on Dana Antiochus'  program on Renegade Broadcasting that "over two million but less than six million jews" were killed by the Germans, at least a million of these in homicidal gas chambers. Dana decided to side with his guest and interrupt the caller Jim's persistent disagreement with a brief rant on why "numbers were not important." It's at the last 10-15 minutes of the program -- listen for yourself. 

French cartoon depicts how the "sondercommando" workers removing dead bodies from the "gas chamber" would also succumb to the poison gas fumes, along with the German guards. (click to enlarge)

Therefore I decided to put together some questions that should be asked of Mark Weber the next time he is being interviewed on a radio program with call-ins. If being faced with questions like this drives Weber away from appearing on call-in programs, that is well and good - for a director of an "institute" like the IHR cannot be afraid of questions. Of course,  it's necessary for listeners to know in advance when Weber is going to be on. One can't call in to an mp3 download. So a little help in letting people know would be appreciated.

Questions:

1. Please account for the 2 million jews you say you believe were killed by Germans. If you can't, why do you believe it?

2. On what basis do you say there were homicidal gas chambers at the transit camps Belzec, Treblinka and Sobibor? You have said you “get it from David Irving” or that you "agree with David Irving on this."

In that case …

3.  What are the proofs given by David Irving? How familiar are you with them; how well have you researched them yourself? Why do you rely on David Irving rather than on genuine revisionist researchers like Carlo Mattogno and Juergen Graf who wrote books on this subject?

4.  Why has David Irving still not published his promised book on this topic?

5.   David Irving has also come up with a theory that Reichsminister SS Heinrich Himmler conceived and ordered the gassing of Jews in the above mentioned camps withoutHitler's knowledge. Do you subscribe to that also? If so, can you explain how it could have been accomplished?

6.  Why is it that no holocaust revisionists are  part if the IHR any longer, nor do they want anything to do with you? You used to work closely with many of them, and probably had at least some correspondence with all of them. Now you are alone at the IHR with your four hand-picked board members, though you don't seem to mind. Can you explain that?

7.  What is your answer to those who call you a traitor and a coward? So far, you have simply not answered those charges.

8.  Since the IHR no longer functions as an institute, but only as a place for you to solicit donations that, for the most part,  go to maintain your personal upkeep--why aren't you willing to step aside and allow revisionists to bring the IHR back to being a real institute again?

The Incredible Ignorance of so many in the pro-White network about the Holocaust, Hitler and WW2 in general, but who insist on talking about it as if they should be listened to.

They do great damage to their listeners, and in many cases uncritical fans, by passing on their ignorance and even acting like they know better than well-known persons who are actually knowledgeable.

Celebrating a victory with a champagne breakfast in Caen, July 9, 1942, left to right: Schröter, Nippa and Poldi wearing his newly awarded Iron Cross 2. (Picture taken by a war reporter)

The letters from 1942 begin with Operation Cerberus, for which Leopold "Poldi" Wenger's squadron  (Jagdgeschwader 2 "Richthofen") played an essential role. This is the first of two major operations in which he was to take part in 1942, the second being the Battle of Dieppe in August. In between these two, we read of continuing dog-fights over the Channel. Poldi's first letter home was not until after Cerberus was successfully completed.

copyright 2013 Wilhelm Wenger and Carolyn Yeager
Translated from the German by Carlos Porter

14 February 1942: Everything has been happening at once over the past few days, as you have, of course, heard from the Christmas news bulletins; and this time we are involved, too. We flew fighter support for the German fleet and were present at precisely the most exciting moments shortly before the breakthrough at the narrowest point on the Channel and in the evening air and sea battles. It was a bold undertaking and a surprise attack right in front of the Englishmen’s own front door, so to speak, with the two battleships “Gneisenau” and “Scharnhorst”, as well as with the heavy cruiser “Prinz Eugen” and many convoy ships, torpedo boats and destroyers in the front line. [Poldi is describing Operation Cerberus that I wrote about here.] 

Poldi second from left on the airfield at Katwyik, Feb. 14, 1942

At Katwyik for Operation Cerberus

When German long-range guns attempted to destroy the English coastal artillery, all the houses on the square where we were trembled, and the floors vibrated at the rumbling. This day was the first time I saw aerial combat from the ground. When we started back towards the safety of the ships, we just managed it when a British destroyer attack was defeated by our ships. There was rather misty weather and the flare of the muzzle fire from the guns was getting more and more dazzling and frightening. Once we confused two ships and found ourselves suddenly being strafed by flak from one of the British destroyers. Then the Tommies tried to blow us through the heavy use of Spitfires. That failed, too. Since we absolutely had to maintain radio silence, it wasn’t possible to communicate with each other in the normal way. For example, we could only fire tracers in front of a comrade’s [plane] to let him know that he was being attacked by one or more Brits. We protected the ships in such a way that each squadron had to fly a certain sector to prevent hostile aircraft from getting anywhere near our big ships. Most of the enemy bombers were swept away from the outer ring of our fighter squadron and we seldom even saw them with all the bad weather. It was really beautiful aerial combat.

Yesterday I flew what was up until that time my northernmost flight in the maritime territory of the Friesian Islands. In the evening we were in The Hague. That is the first time you notice the difference compared with French muddling.

In Albertville I had two days off with QBI [bad weather]. Albertville is a city of ruins, in which only the church is still standing.

Icy Leuwarden airfield, Feb. 19, 1942

Photo taken by Poldi in Leuwarden, Holland 2-19-42

19 February 1942: I’m further north now, in the vicinity of Leuwarden. So much snow and ice is something new to me, it’s the first we’ve met with this winter. So I’ve quit flying in the English Channel and I‘m flying in the North Sea now. But there’s a big difference, apart from the cold. But it won’t be long until I can fly again. We all like it better here in Holland than in France; here, you can almost speak of a second Germany. (At least compared to the usual conditions in France.) Everything is clean and neat, every house is friendly, the windows are all full of flowers, now, in the winter; even relations between soldiers and the civilian population cannot be compared with France at all.

One problem, though, is the Dutch money. Nobody can make out the guilders yet. I had a couple of hours furlough today, and was able to see the city of Leuwarden during the daytime for once. Over and over again, all I could think about was the big difference between here and “La Grande Nation".

____________________

Sudden furlough with the family in Leoben in early March.

Poldi on holiday with his parents in Marburg, a historic city in central Germany, March 6 ...

...where they met up with Prof. Matzl.

16 March 1942: This morning about 6 o’clock I was back in Morlaix again, a whole day too early. I couldn’t know that I would have such good connections all the way through. I was already in Linz that same afternoon and waited an hour for the commuter train from Vienna, upon which I travelled through Nuremberg and Metz to Paris, where I arrived at 6:30pm yesterday, on the 15th. My stay in Paris was also very short and I was able to travel by train direct to Morlaix the same evening, where I was happy to arrive this morning. The trains were very full!

23 March 1942: My last letter was written from Morlaix. At that time, I wanted to fly to Holland, but that was impossible due to the bad weather. So I took the train by way of Paris, Brussels, Antwerp, Rotterdam and The Hague. Then I had to wait a couple of days and was finally able to fly back to my unit (Katwijk-Leuwarden). But it was still a whole week until I was back with my comrades again. This time, I travelled by train during the day, so I was able to see something new. Yesterday we were transferred again and now, after a long time, I’m back in France where I flew for the first time (according to the flight log book: Le Havre, after a relocation flight from Leuwarden to Calais and following a layover, on to Le Havre, that is, 710 km overland).

28 March 1942 : I just received the photograph of my family, taken by the photographer Fürst in Leoben during my furlough; [it was] posed just right, but the main thing is, everybody is on there!

Everything is happening at once here. Recently, we’ve been waiting for a big offensive almost any day now. All seems very normal at night now, but, at the same time, the English have had big losses. Tonight they tried to play a trick on us. You‘ve certainly heard the special reports on this. We were happy to be able to fly a few low level attacks on them, but the Tommies got hit so bad during the night that everything was all over by the early hours of the morning, around dawn.

4 April 1942: For the moment, there’s nothing really going on here (Le Havre), so it’s really the calm before the storm. But at night there’s a lot happening. The last few nights, I was able to watch the entire air attack from my window, which gives me a good view of the whole city and the entry to the harbor. Once a bomb hit the water about a hundred meters away from me, so that I was pushed gently away from the window. But the Brits score so few hits, that it’s a shame to waste so many bombs. Most of them fall in the water.

Poldi in the "readiness seat" (Sitzbereitschaft) in Le Havre

Transfer flight to Triqueville in a Me 109 on April 10

Triqueville living barracks, April 12, 1942

11 April 1942: We’ve been transferred again [Triqueville]. Although not particularly far away (40 km), there’s the usual confusion. I’m on the left bank of the Seine now, on a small square [presumably Beaumont le Roger], in the middle of the countryside. It’s a big meadow. We live in a place seven kilometers away, with about 7,000 inhabitants, in the best hotel in the region. I don’t believe we could find a bigger hotel anywhere. We’re all glad to be out of Le Havre, since the nightly bombing attacks didn’t allow us to get any sleep. On Easter Sunday night, they dropped 12 bombs on the square without damaging anything but the grass.

Now I’m sitting in a deck chair in front of my plane and “helping them wait.” None of us can understand why the Tommies no longer come over by day. Apart from the daily combat alarms, we hardly fly any more.

It’s all wonderfully green here; we have the feeling that summer is just ahead.

19 April 1942: Today I’m sitting at my command post, on duty. I was sitting here a few days ago, when there was quite a hubbub: A large of number of incoming flights and an aerial combat, with about 150 English fighter planes and bombers... and I had to sit around down here. Today, my plane is right in front of the door and there’s really nothing going on. It’s Sunday today and the Tommies aren’t flying, after all; only a few Poles and other Legionnaires.

Day before yesterday, we had some incoming flights again and, once again, no move on the part of the enemy: Spitfires were playing blind man’s bluff with us, and us with them. The cloud towers had something to do with this, since they all flew around behind them, but, on the other hand, there was no shooting. We all flew quite a bit, which was, of course, another morale booster. 

25 April 1942: The English have now started yet another offensive on the Channel and came off second best for the most part. What that’s all supposed to mean is not clear. The bombs never hit their targets and are mostly simply jettisoned. But the fighter protection is very strong. Today, I couldn’t even count the number of Spitfires swarming around the bombers. They were estimated at 150 to160. Six were shot down in our sector yesterday. It was an exciting time. There were no losses on our side.

6 May 1942: It is very hot, cloudless, almost no wind. We’re sitting around in deck chairs in battle-preparedness. Strangely, it’s been completely quiet for two days. Day before yesterday, we flew two missions. We had some serious aerial combats in the morning. We chased the Tommies right back to the Isle of Wight. In the afternoon, during our second mission, there was aerial fighting all the way to the French coast. The English were more numerous than we were. There was a lot of excitement north of Fécamp and the air was full of tracers and smoke. Well, we’ll even the score next time around.

9 May 1942: For the moment, everything’s quiet around here. This doesn’t usually last more than a couple of days, though. So we can calculate fairly accurately when something is going to bust loose again. The last attack was on 6 May, that is, it will be time soon. There was a big alarm yesterday, and we all took off, but the enemy wasn’t stirring. On the  6th, though, there were big dog fights. There were about 100 to 120 English fighter planes up there. The whole sky was full of planes [Geigen]! We flew right over into the thick of it and it worked: the whole formation dissipated and the Tommies disappeared, flying away downwards away from us. Just off the English coast our squadron got into another dog fight, but the English wouldn’t really be drawn into a fight. There was wonderful weather and we had a marvellous view of both coasts from the middle of the Channel. It was so beautiful and such clear weather that I could see the Isle of Wight in great detail and the whole coast of Dover quite exactly.

One time we attacked a whole bunch of 30 Spitfires. There were only three of us, they saw us too soon, we were forced back, and our lead plane got shot down. But we got even during the next English large-scale attack: we dove right into a whole pack of them, all Spitfires, blew them up and 5 Tommies went down in flames.

21 May 1942: I’m still lying around on the same meadow as before. I was first quartered in the house of the village bank director. Now we’re in a beautiful house. There was an almighty ruckus around here in the past few days. On the 15th, we flew to Portsmouth, over Brighton and back, in the twilight, in very bad weather. We stayed there for a long time and only landed as it was getting dark... no sign of the enemy at all. The next day, our “English comrades” were kind enough to pay us a visit. There was a lot of aerial combat with a lot of Spitfires. At one point, our leader [according to the flight log book: Oberleutnant Meinberg] shot down a Spitfire in front of the whole squadron. It was something to see, the plane all aflame and the Tommy bailing out with a chute. Then our squadron flew over the Channel and we attacked an English fighter unit near Hasting. They withdrew in a hurry, though, only the last one stayed there to fight for a few moments. Our squadron leader (according to the fight log book entry Oberfeldwebel Heinzeller) shot the Spitfire down. The Tommy bailed out with his chute and landed in the water off Hasting.

To the fighter bombers:

The Red Fox emblem for the new fighter-bomber squadron

NOTE: In the early months of 1942, Hptm Frank Liesendahl (scroll down) was ordered to build a new squadron within the JG2 “Richthofen” that would go by the name 10/SG2 (Schlachtgeschwader - specialized for ground attack). In other words a new fighter-bomber squadron. This he did. Lt Nippa had the idea it should have it's own emblem representing “the red fox.” Hptm Liesendahl's new bride, a designer at the Messerschmitt airplane company, designed the fox with a ship in it's mouth (pictured above). In late May, Poldi made the change from the fighter squadron JG2 to the new squadron 10/JG2 when the aircrafts changed from the Me 109 to the new Fw 190.

25 May 1942  I’ve been transferred to another unit. It’s very beautiful here in Beaumont le Roger. Our lodgings consist of a little castle in green surroundings. Since I already know all the other people, I don’t feel like a stranger.

Poldi and Obergruppenführer Limberg on standby, June 4, 1942

13 June 1942: (Le Bourget-Paris) I’ve been travelling a lot recently. I once flew from Caen to Wevelghem and drove to Lille at night. The next day I went to Paris and back to Caen by train. I’ve been assigned to a new type of plane, the Focke Wulf Fw 190 (A-2) and after flying in, I made the ferry flight to Caen.

29 June 1942: Yesterday evening I flew my first combat flight with my new Fw 190. We did some reconnoitering flights on the English seacoast between the Isle of Insel Wight and Selsey Bill.

7 July 1942: Today I half-way participated in the sinking of a 10,000 ton submarine mother ship [the letter with the report has unfortunately been lost!]

9 July 1942: Today we attacked an English convoy of ships west of Portland [Dorset]; we shot out of that convoy ships that were all together in tonage 20,000. In one attack we sank one 2,500-ton ship and severely damaged three more. I had to break off my first approach because my position was unfavorable. During a second attack I was shot at from all barrels at once and at the last moment they shot a rocket barrier right in front of my nose, so that I was still able to drop my bombs and yank my plane around. My bombs, of course, fell right next to the target. When we landed the fighter squadron leader came over; short briefing, in which, among other things, he said, “On behalf of the Führer, I award you, Lieutenant L. Wenger, the Iron Cross 2nd Class, for your decisive participation in the sinking of a 10,000 ton ship” (on 7 July 1942 in the Solent, off the Isle of Wight). Then there was a breakfast with champagne. Everybody had great fun anyway. Another formation at the same time had attacked an English airfield and hangar and destroyed a plane on the ground. We were in a really great mood. A war reporter was here, too, and took photographs. I’ll send you the pictures. [see picture at top of this post]

12 July 1942:  This afternoon I flew another mission and sank a watch ship of about 800 tons in the harbor of Brixham (Bay of Torquay) with a direct bombing hit to the starboard side of the ship. The other plane damaged a 4,000 ton freighter so severely that I must assume that it sank, too. This time, there were two of us. It wasn’t easy to approach the ship, since the harbor was full of barrage balloons and flak and very strongly protected. So we struck all at once, by surprise, out of a beautiful blue sky, flying through the barrage balloons, firing at the ships with everything we had. My ship sent up jets of flame from the superstructure after being shot at using my guns, that’s all. The bombs did the rest.

My ship capsized in half a minute, breaking in half right in the middle, while the other ship began to sink stern first. There was so much flak that we had to give up hope of being able to observe much of anything else. At any rate, I was very happy over this success, since it was the first ship I ever sank all by myself. Yesterday, my superior officer (Hauptmann F. Liesendahl)and another lieutenant also sank a destroyer in this area, that is, everybody got one. Unfortunately, the ships aren’t always where we’d like to have them.

Celebrating an air victory by Deinzer and Vock

15 July 1942: I flew my last mission on the 13th. I really wanted to attack a port. But the English coast was under clouds. So I flew towards an isolated watch ship and attacked it, with the wingman [of] my squadron. My bombs hit the ship, which was running towards the English coast at high speed, amidships, right before the stern. My wingman’s bombs also landed right in front of the stern. Then everything happened very quickly. There was a gigantic explosion – the boilers must have blown up – and when the steam and smoke cleared away, all we could see was a trail of foam, with a whole load of ship’s parts (planks and a rubber dinghy) floating around at the end of it. There was nothing to be seen of the crew. At the same time, I got a direct machine-gun hit in the wing. The watch ship was about 800 tons and looked just like the one I sank in Brixham the day before. It all happened so fast, that I hardly had time to shoot at the superstructure when I was attacking, and what’s certain is that no more radio signals were received from the ship afterwards. This was about 5-10 kilometers southeast of Dartmouth.

A few days ago, the squadron slaughtered two pigs they had and gave a party. Everybody could eat as much as he wanted, and there was still something left over.

July 9, 1942, front row from left: Oblt Fritz Schröter, Lt Leopold Wenger, Obstlt (Lt. Col) Karl Hentschell, Hptm Frank Liesendahl (squadron leader), Lt Erhard Nippa. In front, Bim the dog. (click to enlarge) This picture appeared in a newspaper.

21 July 1942: Unfortunately, I wasn’t there during the last two missions, since I had to turn around and break off my mission due to a technical problem, and during the next to last I was on duty at the command post. That is really the most uncomfortable thing there is, just sit there and wait. Now and then you get a radio message and you look at the clock and realize that the attack must be taking place at that very moment. And then you wait for them to return and get a shock when they’re not all there.

No, I’d rather fly every mission than wait at the command post. And during this mission, our leader [Liesendahl] wasn’t there afterwards. We simply couldn’t grasp the fact that our leader was no longer with us. A few weeks ago he sank an English destroyer and now he had probably been shot down by flak. I flew my best bombing missions with him as squadron leader and learned everything from him, so to speak. He already had the German cross in gold and should have gotten the Knight’s Cross in a few days. We all hoped that he had just been captured. That wasn’t ideal, but it was better.

My suitcases are all packed again, since we’re being transferred again tomorrow. Yesterday and day before yesterday, I was still far out overland. The day before yesterday I was in Bordeaux, Vannes and Lorient. I flew from southwest France along the Atlantic coast to Caen (1170 Km.). Yesterday I arrived in Albertville and then flew to Amsterdam-Schipol and back again in the eveninng (another 1070 km).

28 July 1942: A couple of days ago, Oberleutnant Schröter asked me whether I felt like flying a mission. I’d like to see the guy that would say “no” to that. So we flew quickly to our home port and off we went, my wingman and me, with a 500 kg bomb. We had to fly some armed maritime reconnaissance in the maritime region of Start Point (east of Plymouth). We couldn’t see any ships clearly, so we flew over the land. That way we could see exactly what our bombs did to our terrestrial targets first. In the evening we flew back to our port.

- To be continued -

Jan. 18, 2014

British Army Film Unit  footage of entry into Bergen-Belsen concentration camp, and following  events,  was turned into a shocking film that was never shown. Now it will be.

• Jason Kenney, Canadian Minister for Multiculturalism:   “There is some kind of moral obligation on the entire world to support a secure homeland for the Jewish people–given not just the Holocaust, but the entire history of anti-Semitism. Both in Europe, the Middle East and elsewhere”;
• Brendan O’Neil blogs that holocaust “deniers” and revisionists should not be censored “because it gives the impression that mainstream society is defensive and must prevent people from questioning what happened.” Right On, Brendan!;
• Will Elie Wiesel be absent from this year’s Auschwitz-Birkenau January 27 Commemoration… now being called the anniversary of the “liberation of Europe”;
• Redigitalized version of “unseen Hitchcock documentary” film of British and American troops entering the German concentrations camps is being brought out for the 70th Anniversary of the “liberation of Europe;”
• The British film’s narration is full of factual untruths, snide comments and pure hatred for Germans, thus it will be accompanied by a new film “explaining it,” titled Night Will Fall;
• Shock events like Sandy Hook have anomalies and stupidities built into them to attract the more intelligent, independent-minded among us to discuss “conspiracy theories” for years rather than address the far more important problem of White displacement, loss of homeland and all financial resources.

Image:  The British put up this propaganda sign at the Belsen concentration camp in 1945, after its “liberation” … though they had been requested to come by the overwhelmed Germans. (click to enlarge)

Poldi (on right) with squadron buddies having some fun for the camera showing off their new sweaters with the "Red Fox" squadron emblem.

copyright 2013 Wilhelm Wenger and Carolyn Yeager
Translated from the German by Carlos Porter

29 July 1942: Today I’m back at our home port with my squadron leader and a small staff of technical personnel in readiness. I still have to do three days standby service and then I’ll be flying back to our home port and will be relieved by another squadron there.

Today I flew my first mission again. We attacked the port of Brixham again, where our leader was lost on 17 July. It was 16 hours 19 minutes when I flew through the harbor barriers, which consisted of 20 to 30 barrage balloons, with my wingman in a low-level attack, shot up a few small ships and aimed a direct bomb hit at the stern of a 4000 ton freighter. Unfortunately, I couldn’t see what effect it had, since their defenses kicked in quickly and the flak was being aimed very precisely. They made a lot of noise during the night when their bombs went off. As we flew off, we were pursued by a few Spitfires, but we were faster. On the high seas, I saw still another small tugboat. Our cannons spoke very clear language. We left it there, letting off a big column of smoke. So I was in the same harbor twice in the same day, today, in which I had already sunk one watch ship already. Today’s freighter was also seriously damaged, that’s for sure.

2 August 1942: I already know my way around the Brixham area pretty well, and the surrounding area. On 31 July, I was unlucky again. I flew from our home port (Caen) to St Andre, which is 125 km away, and forgot to lower the landing gears for both wheels when I was landing. So I landed on one wheel, that is, on the right wheel only, and the left wing. I was very angry with myself for making such a stupid mistake. So my plane is laid up for a couple of days for this piece of stupidity.

4 August 1942: Yesterday, I flew another mission that knocked me out like no other. First, I flew with my wingman in the vicinity of Falmouth on the western corner of southern England. The long stretch of water is already enough to wear you out. Then we ran into a lot of really bad weather, which got so bad over the English mainland that you could hardly see your hand in front of your face. Then we smoked a couple of small towns as reprisal for the terror attacks on small German cities.

On the return flight over England, we ran into the thickest fog; for good measure, a couple of electrical instruments conked out, so that I could no longer control my altitude, and I even saw a few telegraph poles go sailing right by my cabin window. Instinctively, I pulled back the control column and then, suddenly, I saw a couple of barrage balloons in front of me, which I was luckily still able to avoid hitting. What’s more, I had lost my wingman and was sure that he had flown into one of the mountains. He thought the same about me. When we landed again in our home port, we were happy to see each other again. After eating, we flew back to our usual home port. But I was shook up like never before.  

12. August 1942: Yesterday I flew off with two planes to attack the city of Salisbury and destroyed the gas works, while my wingman destroyed the railway station. We got chased by a lot of Spitfires; they followed us to Portland, but everything was all right. I got the Iron Cross Ist Class for this mission, which I flew with an NCO, who flew the second plane. My wingman got the Iron Cross 2nd Class.  The mission against Salisbury was carried out in strong wind, and a heavy swell at sea, too. We flew past the western tip of the Isle of Wight flying low, and then back again, surprisingly, in a big ring around the north of the city. So there were no air raid alarms going off in Salisbury and the streets were full of people and cars. There was a lot of traffic.

(From personal conversation with my brother, I think I remember that they were supposed to fly attacks against English cities as well from now on, in reprisal for the English bombardments of German cities, in which valuable cultural monuments were destroyed. Approval was even issued to damage Salisbury Cathedral if necessary, but my brother hadn’t the slightest intention of actually doing so. -W.W.)

View from the air of Salisbury Cathedral and all that is built up around it.

I already recognized the city by its magnificent cathedral, where most of the English kings are buried; it’s an English national shrine. I also saw a big gas works, and immediately shot up the gas containers with my cannons, it was very easy to follow the tracers from my machine guns and could see exactly where they were going. It began to burn, then the bombs exploded behind us. My wingman attacked the railway station. He shot up the locomotive of an incoming train and aimed a direct hit on the train with the bomb. The whole city was completely surprised, there was no air raid alarm. The numerous barrage balloons were lying around the city on the ground. It all happened so fast. Flying low, I flew over a few flak positions and avoided them; it was all a little bit too quick for the chaps on the other side.

16 August 1942: I flew back over England again yesterday, too, and attacked the city of Worthing with my wingman, at around 18 hours. The flak was very accurate this time, they were already shooting as we approached. But that didn’t prevent us from finishing off a couple of big business complexes with our bombs. The weather over there was bad.

By the way, as for Dad’s question: my tonnage proportion amounts to 6200 tons (warship tons), up to now. This is equivalent to 17,360 British tons, but so far I’ve only had warships in my bombsights.

21 August 1942: On the 18th, we flew an attack against the Isle of Wight and bombarded the city of Ventnor. The row houses received a direct hit. They didn’t have time to set off any air raid alarms, either. So there was a lot of traffic in the streets. The flak only started firing when we had already turned around to fly off.

Click on image for enlarged view.

At dawn on 19 August, we got an emergency report that English were attempting to land. I was supposed to take off immediately with three planes on an armed reconnaissance mission. Since I figured there would be ships worth shooting at, I loaded my plane with especially heavy bombs. But I was very unlucky, as well as lucky at the same time. In rolling along to take off I broke the landing gear, and I slid across the grass right on my bombs: not a very pleasant sensation, when you think of the explosive power of those bombs or what they’re capable of doing during an attack and you can watch it, too.

So I missed the first mission, took off from my second service port in a Messerschmitt 108 Typhoon to St. André to pick up my Focke-Wulf Fw 190, and then back to Caen. I was already afraid I’d get there too late, and the whole scare might be over by then. So my first mission began at 11 hours 30 minutes. When we reached Dieppe, the combat zone was completely befogged, cloaked with dust, smoke and dirt. The English fleet had fogged itself over completely. Muzzle flashes could be seen all over the place, there were fires burning all over the land from planes that had been shot down. On the beach lay burnt-out tanks which had been destroyed hardly 20 meters from the water right after the landing.

What Poldi Saw: Destroyed landing craft and tanks, along with dead Canadian troops at water's edge on Dieppe Beach.

There were a lot of fliers swimming around in their inflatable dinghies. At precisely 12 hours I set off with my unit on a low-altitude attack. At the same time, a German bomber just in front of us crashed vertically into the sea, not far away from us. That certainly wasn’t good for our morale! We went straight on ahead in the fog and suddenly, without seeing it, found the cause of all this fog, a very big English destroyer. We shot at it with all our machine guns and cannons, and dropped bombs on it at the same time. The heavy bombs detonated exactly underneath the stern of the destroyer. But then I got shot at with flak, all calibres. Too bad I wasn’t able to hang around and watch this fiery magic show any longer. The three other machines flying with me, damaged a couple more ships and shot down a Spitfire. In low-level attacks, we shot up the landing craft, which were stuffed with men. The effect was devastating, everywhere.

When I flew my second attack at 15 hours 30 minutes, the English had already "victoriously" withdrawn. The artificial fog was no longer much help to them. I attacked a second destroyer and, flying at low altitude, planted a very heavy bomb on the ship in the middle. During my attack, I was shot at very heavily, flak from the same ship. But when the bomb went off, there wasn’t a gun left firing. There was ONE detonation, simply magnificent! A black cloud followed the explosion and cloaked the entire ship. I then got chased around and shot at by many Spitfires and was unfortunately unable to observe any more of the final sinking. I got a lot of scale off the flak. Surface areas, motor plating and landing gear were all shot through. The cabin had two direct hits, but they got flattened out against the overhead armor. The mission was well worth it.

At around 17 hours, I started off on my third mission against the fleet, which was still trying to escape. Just before we got to Brighton, we finally reached a group of large landing craft, which had also set up barrage balloons. We attacked immediately. My bombs unfortunately bounced right over the ship and detonated about 10 meters from the ship’s side. Then I shot up the superstructure until it caught fire.

After this, the sea fight at Dieppe was over for us. Our squadron sank two destroyers, two big landing craft of 2000 BRT each, two watch ships and one Spitfire was shot down. One of our planes had to do an emergency landing near Dieppe. The squadron leader came to see us today and told us how it looked to him. The English were said to have been mowed down in heaps in front of the barbed wire entanglements by machine gun fire and killed by mines, which had been planted all over the place. The armored vehicles were mostly shot to pieces when they were still in the water. In any case, it’s a big defeat for the Tommies. Exactly what got sunk, will become clear over time. Let’s hope the English treat us to a repeat performance sometime soon, so we don’t get out of practice!

30. August 1942: I was over there again a few days ago, in the vicinity of Falmouth in Cornwall. You couldn’t see any ships, so they must have been keeping to their secondary targets. We blew up a few fine houses according to the motto “Never miss an opportunity”.

6 September 1942: On the 2nd, we bombarded the city of Ventnor on the Isle of Wight. They were shooting flak like mad. On the 3rd, I had to interrupt my service on the English coast, since the weather was too bad. That was near Dartmouth.

On the 4th, I flew with four planes in an attack on the West Channel. We flew over the city of Torquay, which had already been given a good thrashing by us on another occasion, and showed the city of Paignton a thing or two, demolishing trains, railway station and large houses, under heavy and accurate flak. One of our planes was shot down in flames (according to the casualty report, Uffizier Walter Höfer). At sea, we were attacked again, but without success.

On the 5th, we flew back home to our place, but on our way we came into sudden contact with the enemy, with 43 English four-motor bombers. Unfortunately, we saw them too late, and could no longer get into attack position, so there was nothing we could do -- after which we flew back over Rouen at 7000 meter altitude.

18. September 1942: Yesterday we flew a mission which unfortunately ended quite tragically. Together with my wingman, an NCO (according to the casualty report, Uffizier Walter Wandschneider) we were attacking a gas works in Worthing, low altitude flying, and exploded the bombs between two gasometers, which caused the whole thing to blow up. My wingman was busy bombarding the city. At exactly the same time, we came into contact with English planes. We were able to get away from them and reached the open sea despite heavy flak. In the middle of the Channel we were suddenly surprised by Spitfires, which attacked immediately. That’s how I lost my wingman. I saw him fall vertically into the sea, where I saw it hit the water, after which they started banging away at my machine, but I succeeded in getting away and reached home safely, although a 2cm shell projectile tore a hole in my gas tank, which caused me to lose so much oil the whole plane was like a sardine in oil. It was ghastly to see how fast it all happened and I couldn’t do anything about it.

Damage to Poldi's plane -- holes in the wing and in the antenna

I was unable to fly in an even bigger attack with my squadron today, four ships were sunk at one time.

_____________________________

* In April 2001, I received an email from a Canadian Spitfire pilot, Barry Needham, who shot at my brother in aerial combat 59 years ago and caused the bullet hole in the gas tank of his Focke-Wulf FW190. His information is perfectly consistent with my brother’s log book entries. Later, I found a remnant of the 2 cm projectile removed from the fuselage by the mechanics, which our father kept as a souvenir, even engraving the exact date on it. -W. Wenger.

_______________________________

20 September 1942: It’s Sunday today and we have nothing to do. So I’m just sitting in my room in the castle where we live, where we already lived one time before. Even Louis XIV is supposed to have stayed here (a lot of things must have looked different then). [He means it's not all that comfortable in 1942 -W.W.]

We flew a mission in the West Channel yesterday. I flew with an NCO, who appears in the photograph enclosed with this letter.  We flew together once before, at Salisbury, where he got the Iron Cross 2nd Class. We flew armed reconnaissance near Start Point. Off the city of Salcombe I sank four landing craft. I then shot up a group of tents, probably flak positions, and other buildings, with cannons and machine guns. The flak was very heavy and quite accurate. We flew through the valleys, at very low altitude, to make sure the clouds of smoke from the explosions were on top of us at all times. At the same time, my squadron leader put an anti-aircraft gun that was firing at us out of action in a direct approach attack. Two men fell dead, the third man ran away.

Yes, our squadron won recognition from all over the place for our successful defense of Dieppe. Our squadron captain (Oberleutnant F. Schröter) received the German Cross in gold; soon, he will probably get the Knight’s Cross, too. He’s already sunk and generally destroyed a whole lot of different types of  ships, I can tell you. Our captain (F. Liesendahl) has now won the Knight’s Cross, somewhat late.

Pilots of the Squadron - 1942

30. September 1942: The picture where I got the Iron Cross 2nd Class also shows our Squadron Commander (Oberleutnant F. Schröter) on my right [far left, with cigar, in the picture -ed]– most recently, he got the German Cross in Gold and the Knight’s Cross only a few days later. During my last mission in Bembridge (east coast of the Isle of Wight) we destroyed a couple of houses for the second time. We had the worst sort of weather over the Channel that you can imagine, had to fly around a couple of showers.

I was back in northern Europe the other day: in Belgium and also Paris, in a Messerschmidt Typhoon 108. Each time I had to pick up a Focke-Wulf FW190 and fly it back here.

6 October 1942: I flew another mission yesterday in bad weather. I wanted to fly to England near St. Albans, but the land was completely beclouded and so we bombed military objectives near Swanage. I hit an artillery position and damaged it very badly and my squadron leader sank 4 landing craft. Since it was pretty dark the red of the flak tracers looked very strange, really ghostly. The clouds over the sea were often only 20 to 25 meters high; but it was a trim little mission nonetheless!

9 October 1942: These two photographs, taken during yesterday‘s mission show Dartmouth in the evening time, where I attacked a number of landing craft and damaged several with my wingman. We attacked the area – as you can see from the second picture -- flying very low altitude. There was no flak.

It was quite a different story this morning. This time, we went further south of Dartmouth towards Salcombe. Our target this time was landing craft and I sank two of them. (We‘ve sunk a total of 6 of them). Apart from that, we destroyed a stone bridge and a building. We didn’t have the usual 500-kg bomb with us, for the first time, but, rather, four 50-kg bombs. But they weren’t asleep at the anti-aircraft batteries today. There was a lot of lead flying around. During our flight back we got into a dog fight with two Spitfires, who were kind enough to accompany us all the way to the middle of the Channel. Then I landed on the former English island, Guernsey. It’s quite a beautiful country and we’d really like to have time to see it without so much excitement.

15 October 1942: Day before yesterday I was back in England again. This time we attacked the city of Shanklin on the Isle of Wight. I looked for something like a big four-story house and dropped my bomb very exactly, flying low, then watched the effect from a backward curve. I never saw anything like it before. First, nothing happened, then it was like somebody had turned on all the lights in the whole house. Then the walls slowly collapsed outwardly and a gigantic dark red column of flame burst out upwards from the rubble. I think there must have been something highly explosive stored in the house. My wingman also aimed a very beautiful direct hit, but the effect was nowhere near the same.

Yesterday evening, we were over there again, but in mid-Channel my wingman had to turn back due to motor damage.

11 November 1942: I‘ve already been away from our home eyrie for a week now and I’m sitting in a beautiful palace, which must have belonged to really rich people, in the region of Lille. (According to the log book it must have been Merville). After a little preliminary practice, we started out on a concentrated reprisal attack on Canterbury yesterday afternoon. It was like a Reichs Party Day! I’ve hardly ever seen so many machines in the air at the same time. We flew over the Channel flying at low altitude, northeast of Dover, and quite low straight to the city of Canterbury; in some places we had to fly through barrage balloons and then a pretty concert began. We dropped many thousands of kilograms of high explosive on the city at low altitude and shot up the houses with everything we had. The city was pretty much already destroyed anyway, but as we were flying away all we could see was a great, big, smoking, dusty area. Once again, the red and white of the flak and the tracers from our machine guns and cannons looked downright ghostly. On the flight back, anything that looked like a house or a haystack was attacked by many machines.

This looks like a painting, not a photograph, of some of the damage in Canterbury around the Abbey in 1942. The Germans did not bomb the Cathedral, which would have been a huge morale blow to the British, yet the Brits show no appreciation - only calling it "a miracle" and saying "10,445 bombs dropped during 135 separate raids destroyed 731 homes and 296 other buildings in the city."

Wherever you looked, you saw fires everywhere. The anti-artillery positions were silenced after the first fire storm. In the meantime, other machines shot down the barrage balloons over Dover, in flames. It was a picture you don’t see very often. There was no sign of English fighter planes anywhere. I guess it was just all too much of a good thing for them. We landed at our home port just as darkness was drawing in.

 From the Channel to the Mediterranean

21 November 1942: (Istria) I’ve been sitting here on the Mediterranean coast for several days now, and I’m trying to get myself together. I didn’t get here by plane, but by train, since there’s nothing left of my plane except for a few bits of rubbish. During a flight over the French uplands on the 17th, my motor suddenly failed and I had to perform an emergency landing. The terrain was naturally no better than in other mountainous areas and the chances of success were not very high. Nevertheless, my belly flop would have almost been successful if the mountain meadow hadn’t been surrounded by a stone wall 2 meters high. Since I had no other choice, I had to go ahead with it. It was a bit nerve-shattering, but at least it was exciting. I lost consciousness immediately, but came to just as the machine or the piece of it I was still sitting in, finally came to a stop. To my great astonishment, to my right, next to me, 10 meters away, I saw the entire tail section of my beautiful plane standing upright, stuck in the ground. Now, I wanted to get out as quickly as I could, but the cabin wouldn’t break open. So I had to eject the cabin roof with the help of the explosive charge built in for that purpose. Then I climbed out, but could not climb onto the wing, as is usually done, because there was none there; it had broken off. I was slowly running out of strength.

Fortunately two Frenchmen came along, who grabbed me underneath the arms and dragged me to a car standing not far away. They took me to the Gendarmerie in the next village. The French officer drove with me to the nearest hospital. There I was held down on a table and a strange sort of doctor began to wash, and stitch up my head. Finally that was over, and I had to spend a night in this odd little hospital. All my bones were hurting and the mosquitoes wouldn’t let me rest during the night. You can imagine how happy I was when a German doctor came to pick me up the next morning and took me to Lyon, where I was lodged in a hotel, since there was no military hospital at that location yet. So I was naturally anxious to get back to my unit as soon as possible and see our military physician. I got my wish during the night of 19 November (Poldi‘s 21st birthday -W.W.). In Lyon, my personal property was returned to me after being held for safekeeping by the French Gendarmerie. Only my briefcase looked the worse for wear, all torn up, with all the most valuable items missing: camera, fountain pen, Combat Honor Roll Clasp, a few tablets of chocolate, irreplaceable souvenirs. I miss these mementos, which can no longer be replaced.

Now I’m sitting on an express train, with the rest of my things, travelling to Marseilles. I arrived at around 22 hours, and was immediately picked up by our special deployment officer, an Oberleutnant, since I had been able to inform my squadron of my arrival; this was the beginning of an endless overnight journey. This drive, under a full moon, would have been certainly very beautiful under normal circumstances, but all my limbs were hurting and I couldn’t move. We arrived early in the morning, at about one o’clock, and I finally got to bed.

During the next day my headache got so much worse that I suddenly had to visit the doctor. When he removed the head bandage, he saw that the skin on my forehead was full of pus, so back we went again, in the car, 60 kilometers on bumpy French roads, to the nearest military hospital. There my forehead wound was opened again and the stitches were removed (I’m getting used to it!). Then began the skull-throbbing trip back to our new billet.

Today, my skull is all right again, at least so far. My wounds have all crusted over and my ear is growing back together in one piece. My eyes are still a bit red, but I can see all right. The only thing is that, now, other parts of my body are hurting that I hadn’t noticed in the first few days after the accident. The pains in the small of my back have gotten so bad that I can hardly move. But in the end, even that will disappear.

Where we’re stationed there is a airfield with a unit of the French Air Force stationed on it. Relations between the two units are very cool. We don’t trust each other at all. The region is on the coast, and something entirely new for me. There are steep, rocky mountains and everything looks like a stone desert. There is almost no construction on this terrain. A few vineyards and fairly large olive groves are all you see. Everything the French do is one huge pigsty, including the lodgings. The sanitary installations are in a catastrophic condition. It is certainly no accident that this country lost the war. Among the French, soldiers are considered second-class citizens, and are treated like it. I can’t understand this attitude.

The weather here would be good, if it weren’t for the wind. I think they call it the mistral. So far, I’ve only seen blue skies, but nevertheless it is surprisingly cold, even in the sun.

I’m doing everything I can to get my poor bones back in shape again, to see the region around here from the air. Unfortunately, it will take some time before this is possible. I’m glad the doctors haven’t told me to keep to my bed, that was what I feared most.

28 November 1942: There’s been a small change where we are concerned. The disarmament of the French troops. They were completely surprised when the announcement was made—at dawn. Most of them were relieved, since it meant they would be released from service and could remain in France. To us, it is rather a comfort not to have these fellows hanging around in our vicinity. As for my physical condition, I’m getting better—so far, so good. My right ear has healed. The scabs on my face are gone now, thank God. My forehead wound is not entirely healed yet. The doctor told me today that I must be patient for a while. They also washed my head. I couldn’t stand it anymore. My skull was itching all over from being bandaged up all the time. Now at least that’s over; the bandage is considerably smaller now. I don’t have to go to be bandaged up every two days any more, either.

2 December 1942: We’re moving about again. I got a medical attestation, which was issued—thank God—after a few formalities. Magnificent, I can fly again! So we’re leaving the Mediterranean coast. After an interesting flight through the Rhone valley we landed in Dijon after eighty minutes, but we had to stay put for three days due to the bad weather. I went to the doctor today and my head bandage was finally removed. I only have to wear an adhesive plaster for a while yet. All that remains is for my hair to grow back and for the red specks in my eyes to disappear. The main thing is, that flying is no longer a problem for me.

5 December 1942: I’ve been back at my old home eyrie for two days now. Since we couldn’t take off from Dijon because of the bad weather, I had a chance to see the city and was very pleasantly surprised. The city is very clean and doesn’t really look very French. Compared to the other places we’ve seen in France so far, for France it’s a rarity. We flew here from Caen. The situation in southern France was very changeable, but since no real combat missions could be flown the change wasn’t much to speak of, perhaps a chance to rest. In any case, we’ve seen something new, and that is worth something, after all. It sounds like a joke when I say that it is warmer here than on the Mediterranean coast, but it’s really so (influence of the Gulf Stream). I had to wear my sweater, it was so cold I couldn’t stand it.

I saw the doctor again today, it seems I’m now completely well again. The scrape on my head looks better already, almost completely healed and I can take the plaster off in three days. It’s just that the doctor doesn’t want me to fly any combat missions. But in a couple of days it will be all over. I’m only glad I haven’t missed anything important in these three weeks. We made an advent wreath that looks really good today. Now we’ve got to go looking for a fir tree or a spruce, since these trees are rather rare here.

10 December 1942: I’m feeling well again and I’m completely cured. Don’t need any more plasters. This is the first time I’ve seen things in proportion, since it all seemed more serious than it was. The scrape on my head is minimal. You can’t even see that my ear was injured at all any more. That I can fly without restrictions now is the best proof that I’m 100% OK.

Only an answer to your question: I didn’t have my other things with me during my emergency landing, but, rather in my luggage, which was in a transport vehicle on the ground. Naturally I was flying all by myself, but in this case nobody could have helped me anyway. It’s not a question of negligence or poor flying either, it must have been a motor fault; that can happen. Of course, nobody is criticizing me for anything. The commander (Major Günther Tonne?) also thought that I should have bailed out immediately, but I was flying so low I couldn’t.

It’s quite impossible to get a rest and relaxation furlough and I wouldn’t even think of it. I feel quite healthy, too. And then, I wouldn’t want to take a father away from his family at Christmas time by taking his furlough, although I can’t imagine anything more beautiful than spending Christmas with you.

15 December 1942:I’m feeling well, only the left eye is red. I still had my ring and my pistol with me. Nobody’s taking those two things off me; they’d have to kill me first. I flew again today and dropped some practice bombs, so as to keep in practice.

25 December 1942:Our Christmas Eve went a little bit like this: first I sat by the radio and at about 20 hours I celebrated, together with the whole squadron. They put a little music together, the mess hall was decorated really nicely. There was a murderous big piece of pork roast for everybody and drinks, so enough talk about my luggage.

30 December 1942:It’s gotten a little bit colder now, but the weather has gotten better. One of our squadrons carried out a foray against the English coast yesterday and shot down two Spitfires after dropping some bombs on an English city. Unfortunately, I couldn’t be there with them. We also chucked a couple thousand kilos of bombs on them this morning. Their anti-aircraft defenses were taken completely by surprise; they were shooting very badly. Then we flew over a stretch of English countryside and shot up a few houses on the way back.

- End of 1942 letters -

Feb. 8, 2014

Map shows the three greatest maritime disasters in history, all in early 1945 – a total of 20, 660 fatalities!

Dr. Andreas Wesserle returns as Carolyn’s special guest after a 3-year absence to discuss a letter to Queen Elizabeth II and a  paper on RAF and USAF strategic bombing  history he has written. Dr. Wesserle has been on The Heretics” Hoursix times previously (when it was at Voice of Reason); his last appearance was Feb. 21, 2011.

About Dr. Wesserle: Born in Prague, he was a member of the Karpatendeutsche community in Slovakia and experienced the tyranny of the partisans in Sept. 1944. He emigrated to the United States from war-torn, refugee-filled West Germany with his parents in 1952. They settled in Wisconsin, where he still lives after a distinguished teaching career in U.S. and European universities. Highlights:

• The Steuben hospital ship was sunk by two Soviet submarine torpedos on Feb. 10, 1945 – carrying 5200 people, of whom 4500 perished – making it the 3rd worst maritime disaster in recorded history;
• On board the Steuben were mostly wounded German soldiers; approx. 1000 civilians; small number of returning soldiers; plus several hundred navy medical personnel (including doctors, nurses and auxiliaries) and the ship’s crew, along with miscellaneous others;
• The  Submarine Captain Alexander Marinesko, who sunk the Steuben,  was almost court martialed as a deserter shortly before he sunk the Wilhelm Gustloff  on Jan. 30, but was given another chance “to prove himself”;
• The Feb. 13-14 firebombing of Dresden claimed as many as 600,000 lives [only the registered citizens of the city were included in the count, none of the 1 million refugees living out of doors] and yet “victor’s history” has officially brought the number down to 25,000;
• Wesserle tells the Queen why she should not have unveiled the new monument to WWII RAF bomber pilots in London in 2012;
• Wesserle’s brief  “history” of the strategic bomber program by Britain and the USA is discussed;
• Europe needs to once again develop a synthesis between the “earthy” Slavic East and the acquisitive, practical West.

Leopold Wenger, Jr climbs into the cockpit of his plane as he talks with his mechanic. In April '43, Poldi was made squadron leader.

copyright 2014 Wilhelm Wenger and Carolyn Yeager
Translated from the German by Carlos Whitlock Porter

4 January 1943: We had some very strong wind and monstrous sea swells in the past few days. Heavy surf on the coast, like you hardly ever saw. I didn’t even celebrate New Year’s Eve at all this time. I was already in bed by 22 hours, since we wanted to convey our New Year’s Best Wishes to the tommies really early in the morning. But once we got outside on New Year’s Day, you couldn’t fly at all, the weather was so bad. So on the 2nd we bombed a small town, Knightbridge, until there was not much left of it. I took really good photographs during this attack. We were over there again yesterday. This time it was Shanklin’s turn to get it, a city on the Isle of Wight. The flak was quite accurate, but too late. Once again, we got good photos of the attack.

A deep attack was made into Knightbridge on Jan. 2nd (above) and on Jan. 3rd, Shanklin (below). Photos from Poldi's on-board camera.

11 January 1943: Yesterday around midday, we attacked Teignmouth, a city on the southern coast of England, with heavy bombs. The effect was enormous. Whole rows of houses flew through the air. Unfortunately a good comrade of mine failed to return from this combat sortie. We hope he ended up in captivity. (According to the casualty list, it must have been Feldwebel Joachim von Bitter, shot down by a Typhoon of the 266th Squadron).

9 February 1943: Back from furlough. I got here about 5 hours and hit the sack right away, slept until breakfast. Although they roused me, I overslept. This trip was more comfortable than the last. I got a connection in Linz right away and a good seat. I kept watch in Schallerbach and actually saw the Hotel "Austria", where Mom stayed last summer. I also got a connection in Paris right away and went on to Rouen by fast train; but there I had to wait three hours. So I was able to call Caen and there was already someone waiting for me there, at the railway station. So I got back just exactly on time, three hours before I was supposed to start service. Not much has changed here. A few new faces and a few of the old ones stayed away. They’ve got a beautiful plane for me, so everything is all right.

14 February 1943: So I’ve got a new plane now (Fw 190 A-5 ). First I had to break it in for myself and drop practice bombs on a target area. Then it was back to work, over there. Yesterday I delivered my “business cards” on my official visit there. This time it was Dartmouth’s turn. We surprised them so much that the tommies never even had time to sound the alarm when they saw us. So the streets were very lively; very active anti-artillery fire and barrage balloons.

17 February 1943: Yesterday afternoon I flew back to England and gave Kingsbridge another good bombing. While I was doing it, I could very easily see the destruction left over from our last mission. There wasn’t much flak. This morning, we followed suit with a bigger squadron towards Shanklin on the Isle of Wight and gave them a good beating. They seemed to be very surprised, but their flak was very accurate during our approach.

23 February 1943: We had thick fog a few days ago, and our military activity was restricted to exercises, sports and education. In the evening, we sat down together as usual and chatted about all kinds of things. As I often do, I went to the cinema yesterday evening. I bought the book "Anilin" at the Front bookstore in town. I was on radio on the 19th, during the Front Reports. I also got a phonograph record from them. I’ll play it when I get back home again.

23 February 1943: Today, I’m sending Dad the first small package with a ½ kg of solid glue. Will that be enough for Dad? I’m already looking around for some silk for Mom. I’ll buy it when I get back in town again.

28 February 1943: Since the weather is still so bad, we haven’t gotten a lot of flying done! We only got active again on the 26th. We attacked the city of Exmouth; it was a hard mission. I’ve seldom seen such accurate anti-aircraft fire as this time. But the city got a really good “Thank “You” message. At the same time I blew up a gas tank and shot up a moving train, hard. I was able to take some really good photographs while doing it.

However, once again, we unfortunately had some losses in the dog fights that followed the attack. (According to the casualty list, Feldwebel Hermann Rohne and Unteroffizier Kurt Bressler were shot down in aerial combat with 2 Spitfires and 4 Typhoons from the 266th Squadron, 80 km south of Exmouth).

12 March 1943: After writing to you yesterday morning, I again take up my pen to let you have the latest news of the events of the past few hours. We are now a few hours away from our home port. We flew a very heavy attack with many planes yesterday against the city of Hastings. It was a large-scale attack with all the trappings. The English flak was especially active. There were a lot of fireworks and finally some hard aerial combat.

Today, this morning, at dawn, we started at 7 hours, on the dot, to carry out a reprisal. I saw the roofs of the English capital cityfor the first time. But London was clouded in fog, so that you could hardly see a couple of kilometers at low level. Their anti-aircraft batteries weren’t even firing at all, but there were a lot of English fighter planes. Just as we were flying back, the sun came out, red-red, and rose high over the ocean; what a beautiful sight, but we had relatively little time to enjoy this natural wonder in its full glory, since we had some very hard aerial combat.

16 March 1943: On the 14th, I flew a mission against the [south] eastern coast of England, attacking the railway station of the city of Clacton-on-Sea (north of the mouth of the Thames), destroying it with a direct hit. (According to the flight logbook, taking off from Vizernes, approximately 50 km from Coxyde).

The attacks we’ve flown in the past few days were some of the heaviest these English cities have experienced lately. Even the tommies admit this. Of course, it wasn’t child’s play for us, either, since their defenses were extremely heavy. You can’t describe the results of an air attack in words, so I won’t even try. You can see just how tough it’s getting by all the bullet holes in our planes and our own losses.

Willy already thought we’d have a tougher time of it over there – as even Little Moritz [slang for “a child”] can understand – but just leave everything to us. For the moment, he’s already happy to see the flak of our own defenses, and he wrote to me that he wanted to join the Air Force Auxiliary Personnel and be stationed in the Rhineland or somewhere around there. When I read that, it makes me mad. How often have I told him – and he can see proof of it all around us, wherever he looks – that he has to finish school first. A few days later, he got the idea that he wanted to join the infantry and be stationed on the Eastern Front. Let’s hope he gradually gains a bit more sense and will decide once and for all, what he really wants to do. I’ll write about something else now, otherwise I’ll get even madder!

19 March 1943: Our squadron commander (Captain Heinz Schumann) got the Iron Cross today. He earned it a long time ago and we’re all happy for him.

24 March 1943: After a few days of very unfavorable weather, it finally cleared up so as to allow to fly a heavy attack against Ashford, the most important railway junction northwest of Folkestone. It’s not very often I get to observe the effects of the bombs going off the way I could today. They were all direct hits. I was flying second string and received some heavy flak, too. One plane exploded next to me in the air. A light artillery piece fired a shell right in front of my nose as I was diving, and tore the sheet metal off my engine, leaving a hole in my wing. Butber, my wingman, was right there on the spot and knocked out the gun in an instant. Then a gas container exploded and so much debris went flying through the air that it was a pleasure to see. As we flew away, one single cloud of smoke hung over the entire city.
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Poldi becomes squadron leader ...

The captain has since become group commander, was granted a furlough and wrote the following letter to my brother while on furlough -WW:

Dear Poldi,

I assume that Bunny has now reported for duty as an adjutant with Peltz (at 28 years of age the youngest general in Germany) and that you’re in charge of the whole she-bang now, that is, on the condition that the Reichsmarschall has approved the exact plan with the group that Peltz wanted to suggest to him. But I assume that anyway. As Major Grammas has probably informed you, you would then get the whole squadron.

Although you’re a little bit young for it, I recommended you anyway, and I assume that you’ll run the whole show forcefully and efficiently; lieutenants as squadron commander are no rarity these days. I also did it in the interests of the squadron, since I’d like to see a new man in charge for a change. The squadron has been decimated by this deployment and your big job, and Nippa’s, too, will be to obtain replacements. But with Radlewski, Eschenhorn, Pfeiler and maybe Basil, too, of whom I'm not informed yet, remaining – that should be possible. As a flier, you know better than I what it’s all about, and you have more experience than I do in fighter-bomber warfare. The main thing, in my view, however, lies somewhere else. What good is a squadron with fantastic pilots, if they lack a certain something. And that certain something, Poldi, is something that only the squadron commander can supply, if they can’t supply it for themselves. You have to make the men understand that it doesn’t matter to a soldier whether he dies or not. Maybe this is putting it a bit crudely, since we all like to live, of course, but you have to have at least a willingness to die. But I don’t want to try to give you too many lessons, since I’m entrusting you with the squadron I’ve grown so fond of, precisely because I assume that you have that attitude.

Apart from that, I’m having a damn good time on furlough and I’m enjoying my family. I still have a few favors to ask of you, Poldi: please send a voucher for a shirt and trousers for my uniform.
2. some cigarettes
3. some onions and butter and maybe something else to eat. There’s not much to eat around here.* And let me hear from you soon! Please thank Müller especially, who is probably taking care of Strolchi [the Squadron dog]. Is Eckleben back yet? [He had been on furlough.]

Best wishes and good luck
Yours, H. Schumann

*The food situation is already critical in some parts of Germany.
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4 April 1943: It’s Armed Forces Day today, and for this reason, even the English paid us a visit today, trying to drop bombs on our heads during lunch. Two English bombers got shot down.

I’ve flown two attacks since we got back here (to Caen): on 1 April we attacked Ventnor, where again, I took a couple of photographs this time, and yesterday, a big attack on the city of Eastbourne. Although we caught them napping on the 1st, we came under a lot of English anti-aircraft fire yesterday. On the 1st, I shot up a moving automobile travelling along the country road until it caught fire.

Ventnor immediately before the attack, April 1, 1943, and after the attack (below)

Yesterday, we had to put some of the anti-aircraft positions out of action with our cannons and machine guns before we could attack the city. In doing so, I received three direct hits in the the fuselage and tail of my plane. These must have been the last three shots that gun ever fired, though, since my cannons did a nice piece of work on it. Our bombs were very effective. Very shortly after the attack, the whole town was cloaked in smoke and grime. Unfortunately, my plane was so badly shot up that it crash-landed in the sea shortly before we reached our own coastline.

Eastbourne on April 3, 1943 (above and below)

We finally got magnificent spring weather today, very good if you want to go walking, but too good if you have to go on a mission. The park is beautifully green. I wonder what it looks like in Germany? Perhaps I'll make it home again in the summer, what do you think?

8 April 1943: It was really hot during the last few missions, every time. We attacked the biggest city on the Isle of Wight yesterday, Newport. But we dropped all our bombs under heavy flak, and they all scored direct hits. Unfortunately, another two of us got shot down. (According to the casualty list, it must have been Uffz. Günter Eschenhorn and Uffz. Rudolf Radlewski). On the way back, we had to deal with a few English fighters (Typhoons) and came home bathed in sweat. The missions aren’t getting any easier, quite the contrary, but our reprisals are making themselves felt, as the English themselves admit.

14 April 1943: We’re receiving frequent visits from "the other side" now. They attacked us twice yesterday afternoon, in two equal attacks. But apart from a few window panes, there wasn’t much damage. At the same, some pretty fierce and hectic dogfights between English and German escorting fighter planes took place right over our heads. This was the first time I was able to observe planes getting shot down while watching from the ground. For our ground personnel it was really something. They do nothing but get our planes ready for action, after all, and they take great care to make sure everything is working as it should. But they were never able to participate in our successes personally. So they cheered like mad at every Spitfire they saw spiralling down and exploding in flames.

 Poldi's mechanic Gefreiter (Aircraftman 1st Class) Thielen, affectionately known as "Pipifax."

10 May 1943: We haven’t flown any missions in the last few days, but we’ve been in the air a lot, mostly practice missions, testing various kinds of new and different and smaller bombs, almost always dropping them at low altitude or practice attacks on paratroopers; a type of maneuver. The weather is sometimes very good, but there’s a big storm going on now, sometimes with gusts of about 100 km per hour wind. It’s unbelievable the way you get knocked around by these gusts in a plane.

I had to go pick up my squadron pullover today. That’s a white woolen sweater with our squadron insignia, the red fox, on the left breast; they look very good. At any rate, only four of us are supposed to wear it at first, since they were lent to us by a committee. You’d think they had nothing better to do, but it‘s great fun anyway.

One of us got the German cross in gold today, naturally it had to be celebrated as it deserved, and did we!

16 May 1943: Nothing new on the Western front, you might say. That’s the way it’s been with us; in any case, we haven’t flown any missions. But in exchange we went through several aerial attacks recently. Just yesterday, I had just gotten to town and was at the Front book shop, when our position was attacked again. My office looks like hell. But overall most of the damage is slight. We’ve been having up to three air alerts a day sometimes; mostly false alarms. But whatever we’re not doing now,  we’ll make up for it when the time comes.

18 May 1943: We had to endure a whole series of heavy attacks in the past few days. We were  lucky nothing worse happened, but it’s a miserable feeling to lie there in the dirt and be unable to defend yourself when they’re shooting all around you.

23 May 1943: After a long period of inactivity we flew a few large-scale attacks again today and I was one of the first ones there with my squadron (I’ve been made squadron leader in the meantime). The attack on the city of Bournemouth was very effective, we dropped large numbers of bombs and did a lot of damage. Of course, the English flak tried to get a word in edgewise but we answered back smartly with our cannons and machine guns. We were pursued by four Spitfires but there was no aerial combat. This attack made a big impression on our young aviators in particular, and they were appropriately enthusiastic. We were unfortunately not in a position to celebrate properly with cakes and coffee, because we’ve got to be ready for action, but we’ll make up for it when we get a chance.

Attack on Bournemouth on May 23rd (above and below) - notice the smoke.

I got a magnificent fur vest as a present from a well-known major (Heinz Schumann) a short time ago. I’ll send it home some time.

25 May 1943: We made a surprise appearance back over on the other side of the Channel with a big squadron of planes today about noontime, and attacked the city of Brighton with heavy bombs. In doing so we blew up two gas works with a total of five gas containers. Those were some real fireworks, I can tell you! You could see the black pall of smoke far out over the ocean. The flak was very accurate though, but we got off with surprisingly little damage and we shot them up quite nicely with our cannons.

The city of Brighton on May 25th (above) and the Gas Works (below) which Poldi and his squadron blew up.

29 May 1943: The 25th of May attack on Brighton must have done a lot of damage, since the English are still screaming about it today. They paid us a return visit today, we really had to hit the dirt. It made a lot of noise, of course, but when it was all over the damage wasn’t half as bad as we had feared at first. In any case, we suffered no casualties and that’s the main thing. Next time we pay them a visit, it’ll be a different story, we’ll really give it to them.

1 June 1943: About noon day before yesterday we carried out a very heavy attack against Torquay. As with every large-scale attack, we really gave it to them. The English flak was really up to scratch, and gave us a hard time. Then we had some aerial combat, first with English, and then American, fighters. I left a good comrade behind on this mission, too. We’ve taken our revenge, though! Yesterday morning, the tommies tried to tear up our position. Once again, we hit the dirt, and when everything was all right again and we had put out the fires, we could see that really there wasn’t too much damage.

The pictures from Torquay on May 30th (above and below) are very clear but don't show the damage done.

So to pay them back for their little visit, we paid them another courtesy call, with a big squadron, just for company. Just as we got to the English coast I saw a 4-motored flying boat. We shot at it, but didn’t have any time to stick around, otherwise we would have given them a good hiding. We had our bombs to drop, after all. Then the fun started. At St. Catherinas Point (Isle of Wight) I scored a direct hit on a fuel or ammunition warehouse. In any case, the whole kit and kaboodle blew up with huge jets of flame. We then attacked a couple of targets with cannon and machine gun, and raked a radio station. The flak was a bit lively and shot at us as we flew away. English fighter planes came up after us, but were too late. In any case, this mission was one we all enjoyed; anyhow we did our job for today.

Encountering the lighthouse at St. Catherine's Point (above) on June 1st mission, and also a British plane (below).

4 June 1943: We attacked Eastbourne again about noon today, with heavy forces, flying low level, doing considerable damage, although the flak was shooting significantly better than usual. I received a 2 cm direct hit behind the motor, putting a hole all the way through the plane. Several of my instruments quit working and I got a little splinter in my right lower thigh which remains there, someplace. First I felt a violent impact, and after that I had enough to worry about just with my wound, but I was able to get home safely.

A 2nd mission against Eastbourne on June 4th; in the picture below smoke can be seen rising in several locations.

I’m taking photographs on each mission now, and will send the pictures home when I get a chance. Our park is very beautiful now, only the grass has grown too high, but nobody around here cares about that.

14 June 1943: Dear Mother! I would like to wish you all my love and fondest greetings, and I hope you will be able to celebrate this birthday very many times yet and in good health. I would also like to express my belated best wishes to my little brother [Gerhard Adolf], who proudly celebrated his “Fourth Jubilee” a few days ago. I completely forgot to wish you a joyful Pentecost, but I only noticed it was Pentecost when other people told me about it. Anyway I hope you enjoyed a very happy couple of days during the holiday.

Everything is all right with me here, only there’s a lot to do. Day before yesterday, we had yet another heavy English air attack. Two English bombers were shot down in flames by our flak. No casualties here. I hope all is well with you. Now, dear parents, heart-felt greetings from your Bibi.
N.B (last letter from France).

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The mission on 4 June 1943 was also Poldi’s last combat flight on the Channel coast and the letter to his mother dated 14 June 1943 was the last one from France, since he was transferred to Sicily on 15 June 1943. To be continued ....