04 May 2025

Stuka Ace: Blitzkrieg in the West

Christmas 1939 — Voss Family Home, Braunschweig

Snow fell in soft curtains outside the windows of the Voss family home, blanketing the garden in white and silencing the streets beyond. Inside, the warmth of the hearth battled the winter chill, and for the first time in months, the three Voss men sat at the same table.

Andreas, freshly home from Poland, had shed his flight gear for a civilian jacket that still hung awkwardly on his lean frame. Across from him sat Johann, broader and more earthbound, with the calm demeanor of a veteran infantryman. His boots were polished, though his knuckles were still raw from weeks in a truck cab and trench.

Their father, a World War I veteran, poured schnapps with a steady hand, his eyes bouncing between his sons with quiet pride and lingering worry.

“I read about your Stukas in the papers as much as I saw you flying overhead” Johann said, raising his glass to Andreas. “Your lot made quite the name for yourselves.”

Andreas laughed softly. “You weren’t exactly invisible, either. Guderian made sure his tanks and infantry stayed in every communique.”

The brothers clinked glasses.

Their father cleared his throat. “You two did your duty. I only pray you’ll be spared the worst of what’s to come.”

The room was quiet for a moment — not somber, just thoughtful. Outside, carolers sang faintly down the street. Inside, the Voss family shared a meal of roast goose, potatoes, and red cabbage. For one evening, the war was far away and they enjoyed the warmth of home and the bond of family.

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Winter 1939–1940 — The Waiting Game

After the firestorm of Poland, a strange calm had settled. The newspapers called it a Sitzkrieg, the “Phoney War.” But to veterans like Voss, it felt more like the eye of a storm he knew must BREAK.

Polish veterans were granted leave in staggered waves — a reward for service and Victory. In their place came Reservists in worn greatcoats, and wide-eyed recruits with no combat experience but limitless questions. Training grounds everywhere buzzed with shouted orders while maintenance shops thrummed day and night as every engine, bomb rack, and fuel line was tested and restored to readiness.

Though the occasional aerial duel flared over the North Sea or sporadic naval encounters stirred the headlines, nothing yet moved on land. The Wehrmacht waited. So did the Luftwaffe. StG 2 was no exception.

Voss’s StG 2, now relocated near the western border, spent most days airborne. Flight schedules were relentless. Ketten and Schwärme drilled in formation flying over open farmland and patchy pine forest, tightening the spacing, refining turns, correcting for wind shear. Dive-bombing patterns were repeated over painted wooden targets or old tanks dragged into open fields. The ground controllers — mostly Feldwebel radiomen newly assigned to Luftwaffe liaison roles — practiced spotting and vectoring the Stukas onto imagined enemy lines. Sometimes they fumbled the calls. Their instructors, veterans of Poland, made sure they didn’t fumble them twice.

New pilots joined them regularly now; youngsters fresh out of flight school with barely a dozen hours in the Ju 87. Voss made sure they were paired with older, salty gunners who had seen Poland from the rear seat. In the evenings, the crews hunched over maps and shared sandwiches, stories, and the quiet truths that didn’t show up in the training manuals.

“Poland,” Adler reminded them during one chalkboard session, “was a cakewalk. A one-sided affair. Don’t expect that again. The French have real artillery. The British have Spitfires and Hurricanes. You’ll earn your medals from now on.” That stuck.

There were rumours of a coming offensive. Fall Gelb, some whispered — the big push west. But no one knew when. Or where.

Voss’s mood soured when he learned that StG 1 was being outfitted with the Ju 87R with wing-mounted tanks. Theoretically, it meant deeper strikes, more flexibility, greater glory. His men grumbled about it openly one afternoon in the dispersal tent until he shut them down.

“Learn to fly tight and drop on target, and you’ll get your chance.” he said, and doubled their flying hours. They didn't grumble again. 

But the envy lingered, especially in April when news arrived that German troops had landed in NorwayOperation Weserübung. The skies over Narvik and Trondheim saw bitter fighting. Stukas there sank British destroyers, pounded snowy fjords, and returned with holes stitched by RAF fighters.

Voss and his Kette listened to the radio reports. There was pride, of course (and occasional cheers and toasts in the mess) but also restlessness. The war had started again for someone else. And they were still waiting. Drilling. Preparing.

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May 1940 — Odendorf Airfield, near Euskirchen, Germany
Briefing Tent, II./Sturzkampfgeschwader 2

The wind snapped at the canvas of the briefing tent as a hundred aircrew and senior ground staffers filed in and found their places. The ground outside was slick with morning dew, but inside it was warm with anticipation.

Waiting for them at the front stood Oberstleutnant Oskar Dinort, commander of StG 2, tall and stiff-backed, his presence filling the room more completely than the smell of diesel and coffee. Dinort had led them through Poland, and the men respected him. His word carried weight.

Oberstleutnant Oskar Dinort

A staff officer adjusted the map behind him — Holland, Belgium, Luxembourg, northern France — pinned and penciled with a flurry of operational arrows and target designations.

Dinort didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“Gentlemen,” he began. “In five days, Germany will launch Fall Gelb — the offensive into the Low Countries and France.”

He paused, eyes sweeping the assembled pilots.

“This is not Poland. The enemy we face now is equipped, entrenched, and experienced. The French Air Force will fight. The British Expeditionary Force will resist. We will strike first, and hard — but we must be ready to take casualties.”

He turned slightly and gestured to the maps behind him.

“First we will smash Belgium and the Netherlands with 30 Divisions - 30! This will sucker the British and French into thinking we are re-enacting the old- Schleiffen plan our fathers marched to.  When the Allies have committed their forces to counter this force, the weight of our army will strike elsewhere.

General von Runstead will move 45 Divisions, including 7 Panzer division, through the Ardennes, and bypass the formidable Maginot Line defences— a bold move. Bold enough the enemy won’t expect it. Your job is to clear the way. Destroy bridges, soften infantry positions, halt reinforcements. Your work will be critical in creating the breakthroughs the army needs.”

A low murmur moved through the tent. Voss sat near the front, listening intently, his notebook closed on his lap. He knew these weren’t just orders — this was history being written.

Dinort nodded to a man at his right, Hauptmann Walter Enneccerus, who had taken Command of II./StG 2 in December as they reorganised after Poland. Younger than Dinort but with sharp eyes and a measured tone, Enneccerus stepped forward.

Walter Enneccerus

“II. Gruppe will move to its forward launch field on the 8th,” he began. “Operational readiness by the 9th but no local familiarisation or check flights to maintain secrecy. Your Commanders already have provisional assignments, and final targets will be handed down from Fliegerkorps VIII no later than the evening prior.

"The Army will be moving fast - faster than the infantry or supporting artillery can keep up to support them. We will be their airborne artillery- their on-call fire.  Their effectiveness stems directly from our ability to put bombs on target- fast!"

He looked directly at the junior officers, including Voss.

“Expect limited fighter escort early on. You'll be flying low. Fast. And under fire. This campaign will test every lesson you learned in Poland — and expose every weakness you still carry.”

He gave a small nod.

“You've trained hard. Now we hit harder. The world will be watching this one.”

The tent was silent for a moment before a Signals officer stepped up to review communications protocols and frequency procedures. But for Voss, the real message had already landed.

Fall Gelb was coming. And this time, nothing would be easy.

He peered more closely at the map and saw that after supporting the initial attack on Belgium, StG 2's main effort would be supporting General von Rundstedt's Armee Group A in the Ardennes. Counted among their his force was his brother's 2nd Motorised Infantry Division.

Once again Andreas would be flying over and supporting his brother Johann on the ground. That made him smile, and he knew his father would be pleased also to know that his boys were near one another.

He went back to his maps and his lists - there was much to do.

Fall Gelb - the Attack through the Ardennes

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Game Notes

So the stage is set for France as my next Theatre. At a quick glance it looks like most of the Missions are dual sorties, a few more airfields and truck convoys as targets, but still relatively low chance of enemy fighter presence (reflecting the Luftwaffe have Air Control over most of the theatre)

The Stuka Ace system is interesting - depending what Squadron you are assigned to make at the start, determines your deployments with different paths for  different Squadrons. For example StG1 goes to Norway then France then Britain, while StG2 skips Norway, goes to France and then takes a different path. But that is a story for another day, if Voss survives Fall Gelb!


03 May 2025

Stuka Ace: Poland Theatre complete

October 6, 1939 — Forward Airstrip, near Warsaw, Poland
“Victory’s Drum”

The grass was wet with morning dew, but boots stamped it flat as the men of Sturzkampfgeschwader 2 stood in parade formation beneath the pale October sun. A rough airstrip — hastily flattened field, flanked by canvas tents and the silent silhouettes of their Ju 87s — served now as a parade ground.

Two days ago, Poland had surrendered.

Yesterday, they had paraded before the Führer himself, who had flown in from Berlin; stiff uniforms, strained smiles, and the weight  (and smell) of weeks of war under their collars.

Hitler reviews troops at the Victory Parade, Warsaw, 5 Oct 1939

Today's visit was more personal. Generalleutnant Ulrich Grauert, Kommandant of Luftflotte 1, was making the rounds of his units at forward airfields. This morning, it was StG 2’s turn.

Engines were quiet, caps were worn, and jackets were brushed. Pilots and ground crews stood in ranks. Mechanics tried to keep their boots clean. Milo had even shaved.

A Kübelwagen rolled up, followed by a staff car. Guards saluted. Officers came to attention. And then Grauert himself stepped out — tall, broad-chested, his greatcoat immaculate, boots polished to a mirror shine despite the mud. His face bore the wear of years, but his eyes were keen and watchful.

Generalleutnant Ulrich Grauert

The General stepped up onto a wooden platform beside their staffel commanders.

“Men of StG 2,” he began, voice steady. “The campaign in Poland is concluded. Your efforts — your courage — were vital to its success. You struck hard. You struck fast. You struck with precision.”

He paced, slowly, letting his gaze pass over the assembled ranks.

“Infantry advanced because of you. Armoured columns moved because you cleared the path. Bridges fell. Fortifications were broken. Resistance was shattered. You opened the door to Victory"

A pause.

“You have made the Luftwaffe proud. And I am proud of you”

There was a stillness in the air, the quiet weight of recognition. Voss felt the pride swell in his chest — pride mixed with exhaustion, with memory, with relief.

Then came the awards.

Officers’ names were called. Decorations pinned. Grauert personally shook each man’s hand.

When Oberleutnant Adler stepped forward and was presented the Iron Cross, First Class, the men of his Staffel broke into spontaneous applause, rules forgotten for a moment. Voss clapped hardest of all.

 …The applause for Adler was just beginning to die down when General Grauert paused, then glanced at a staff officer holding a clipboard.

“One more,” he said, loud enough for all to hear. “Leutnant Andreas Voss. Step forward.”

Voss blinked. His boots felt rooted to the soil for a second too long before he moved — heart thudding, collar suddenly too tight. He stepped from the line and approached the platform, throat dry.

Grauert regarded him with a faint smile as the Iron Cross, Second Class, was removed from a velvet-lined case.

“For leadership under fire,” the general intoned, “and for bravery and effectiveness as Kettenführer during the operations around Warsaw.”

Voss stood at rigid attention as Grauert pinned the black-and-silver cross to his tunic. The general extended his hand.

“Well done, Leutnant.”

Caught off guard, Voss grasped the hand firmly and muttered, “Th-thank you, Herr General.”

The corner of Grauert’s mouth curled in a knowing smirk, and with a pat to the shoulder, he moved on.

As Voss returned to his place, cheeks warm, he saw Adler grinning from the line, a broad, proud smile on his face. The Oberleutnant gave him a slow, exaggerated wink.

Milo nudged him from behind with an elbow. “Look at you,” he whispered. “A hero now, are we?”

Voss didn’t answer. He just looked down at the medal on his chest, then out to the clear sky above the airfield.

For the first time in this war, he felt more than just relief. He felt valued. He felt seen.

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Game notes

This theatre was a real learning experience and I could focus on the basic mechanics, bombing and strafing procedures.  The feeling of complete air superiority gave me licence to take risks in card and stamina management, knowing I was HIGHLY unlikely to get bounced. As it was, I didn't see an enemy aircraft at all (I think I'll come to rue those words...)

The game plays very quickly and its easy to do a couple of missions in one session.

There is real depth in the cards, and the way that some Action and Flight cards are changed at different levels and with different theatres. I think that will help keep it fresh.

Voss actually qualified for his EK2 at the end of Mission 6, with the Railway Yard being worth +1 Prestige Point. But as it had no impact on gameplay I decided to hold it over. The big Victory Parade in Warsaw in front of the Fuhrer was quite the spectacle to the world, so I wanted to tie it around this historic event, and introduce the real commander of Luftflotte 1.

So Voss finished the Poland Campaign as a Kette Leader with an EK2 and no wound badge. I call that a success, and am looking forward to a new Theatre. For StG 2 there is much refitting and training to do first.

A rather fascinating read from 3 Oct 1939!

Stuka Ace: Poland Mission 7

Mission 7 – Gun Emplacement, Siege of Warsaw

Date: Late September 1939

The city was burning.

Warsaw, once distant and shrouded in mist and maps, now loomed in full view beneath their wings — gutted tenements, shattered rail lines, roads clogged with debris and fleeing civilians. The siege was entering its final, brutal phase.

Leutnant Andreas Voss sat in Berta’s cockpit, sweat already trickling down his collar despite the crisp autumn air. His Kette was on standby, engines warming, the pale morning sky just beginning to brighten.

The target was a Polish heavy gun emplacement dug in near a crossroads southwest of the city — one of the last major artillery positions resisting the German advance. Their orders were clear: destroy it. No finesse. No second chances.

They lifted off into smoky skies.

A trio of Ju 76Bs carrying 500kg bombs launch from an airstrip in Poland, 1939.

As they neared the target, Voss called over the radio:
“Eyes sharp. We go in fast, line astern. I’ll mark the drop.”
His voice was calm, but he felt the responsibility in every syllable.

The gun emplacement was well-camouflaged but betrayed itself with its muzzle flash — it was still firing.

Voss rolled into his dive. The wind howled past the canopy. Sirens screamed.

Through the scope, he saw the square of sandbags, the grey glint of steel.
500 meters.
400.
He toggled the release.
The 500kg bomb dropped.

He pulled out hard, the Gs rattling his bones. Milo grunted behind him. The shockwave caught them as they climbed.

“Hit!” Milo called, but added: “Still firing!”

Voss craned his neck. The emplacement was damaged — smoke rising, one flank collapsed — but the gun still barked defiantly.

“Second and third — finish it.”

His wingmen came in cleanly, dropping in sequence. Two more detonations, and the gun was gone.

Just a crater now.


Destroyed Polish Artillery position, Battle Burza 1939


Voss felt the tension release in his chest. They were learning. They were operating like a unit.

On the flight home, he looked over both shoulders. His Kette was in tight formation. Tired. But unbroken.

Back at the airstrip, he dismounted and shook hands with each of them, grease-smudged, grinning like fools. He didn’t need to say it out loud. But he felt it in his chest:

We’re becoming a team.

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Game notes - rather straight forward mission overall. Still getting used to the formation rules

3 VPs (2 for me plus 1 for the formation also destroying the target) which will get me to another skill

Thats Voss's 7th and final mission in Poland 

02 May 2025

Stuka Ace: Poland Mission 6

Mission 6 — Siege of Warsaw

Primary Target: Field Fortifications
Secondary Target: Railway Yard

The bombardment of Warsaw continued. The past week had seen Stukas, Heinkells and other bombers drop ordnance from the air as the Army's artillery conducted its ceaseless barrage

Voss had settled into the rhythm of command but the war was quick to remind him it allowed no room for comfort.

Dawn came grey and damp. The Kette launched early toward Warsaw yet again, the smoke already rising above the city in distant plumes. Their target: a string of reinforced Polish positions dug into the outer defences southwest of the capital. More fieldworks. Gun pits. Anti-tank nests — all holding up the Army's advance.

Within partially ruined city, the defenders had grown desperate. They fought hard. Between missions Voss thought of his brother fighting with the German Infantry and wondered where he was. If he was 

Voss led the Kette in low. Too low, maybe, but he wanted the bombs to count.

He sighted his target — a concrete bunker with an anti-tank gun at its mouth — and released his 500kg bomb at . The detonation was devastating. The entire gun position vanished in a cloud of black dust and twisted timber.

But his wingmen were less precise. Langer’s bombs fell short, throwing up plumes of dirt, and Dietz overshot — his blasts hitting behind the trenchline. The target was damaged but not out of action.

Voss pulled them up and out, scolding them sharply over the radio. There was no second pass — they only carried the one bomb each and were already catching light flak.

As they turned for home, Voss felt the first shudder through the airframe. The engine coughed. Milo immediately began checking gauges.

“She’s overheating — oil pressure’s jumping,” he warned.

Voss throttled back and trimmed the plane as gently as he could. The engine stayed alive, just, and they limped home at reduced power. He was glad that the skies were empty of any Polish fighters.

At the field, the crew chief met them before the propeller even stopped spinning. A coolant leak. Minor damage, repairable within the hour. The chief yelled and the ground crew got to work feverishly.

Voss chewed through a piece of bread and cold sausage while the mechanics worked. Adler appeared with new orders before he’d even swallowed.

“Rail yard east of the city. Still active. Secondary target. We hit it.”

He looked to Voss.

“Fuel up. Bomb up. You go again. Now”

The second sortie was faster, more focused. They climbed into clean afternoon air and reached the city again, smoke marking their previous strike zone.

The rail yard lay beyond — dozens of boxcars and tankers crowded on siding tracks.

This time, the Kette flew like a blade. Langer and Dietz were keen to make up for their errors that morning

Voss laid his bomb pattern down the central line of cars. Flames took quickly — fuel or munitions, it didn’t matter. The explosion cracked the air. His wingmen followed with perfect spacing, laying ruin to the turntable and the rolling stock lined up to use it.

They turned westward, leaving the burning yard behind them, and made for home.


This time, Voss felt it in his chest — not pride exactly, but a growing belief. His kette had nailed their targets hard. They had made a difference. Surely Poland would surrender soon.

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Game notes

Second mission leading a kette and I think I'm getting the hang of the formations

Dual sortie - dropped some VPs when the formation only damaged the target, but picked up some neat extras with the Railway, including a 3rd Prestige Point.

One more Mission remaining for me in the Poland Campaign. Hopefully Voss will get to reunite with his Brother for Christmas...