Stuka Ace: Poland Mission 2

Follow-On Strike — 1 September 1939, Mid-Morning

Target: Polish Bridgehead near Starogard Gdański

Andreas scalded his fingers on a dented mess tin filled with bitter, overbrewed ersatz coffee, hissing as he set it down in the dust. The bread in his sandwich had curled from the morning sun, but he took quick, greedy bites anyway, barely tasting it.

Engines throbbed in the background. His Ju 87B-1, stood just a few meters away — already swarmed by ground crew like ants on a wounded beetle. Fuel lines hissed. Bomb racks clanked. Tools rang out on fuselage plates.

A young Obergefreiter from the ops tent shoved a grease-streaked target packet into his hands — a few creased aerial photos, a hand-drawn sketch map, and a blunt, tired summary.

“Bridgehead near Starogard. Polish engineers setting charges. Army needs it intact. Destroy the troops — not the bridge. You launch at 0940.”

10 minutes. Voss barely had time to nod. He wiped his hands on his flight suit and jogged toward the aircraft. Milo was already climbing into the rear seat, his MG 15 laid across his lap like a sleeping dog. Below each of the Stuka’s wings were two 50kg bombs, with a single 250kg bomb slung beneath the fuselage. A mixed load — perfect for scattering infantry and hammering soft positions.

The excitement buzzed in Voss’ chest. No fear. No doubt. This was what he’d trained for.
Not trenches. Not mud. Flying. Precision. Speed. Fire.

Oblt. Adler’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“All aircraft — engine start. Launch in three.”

The prop spun up, coughed once, then roared to life. Voss felt it thrum through his boots and into his spine. His Berta was ready — and so was he.

He opened the throttle. With a throaty roar from the Jumo 211 V12, the Stuka thundered down the grass strip and clawed its way into the sky.

---

Again, the skies were clear. No enemy fighters in sight — and no Luftwaffe escorts either. Voss scanned the clouds while keeping tight formation on Adler’s starboard wing.

The approach to the target was indirect, meant to come in low and behind, hopefully catching the defenders flat-footed. It worked — until movement flickered below.

A column of Polish infantry, fast-marching to reinforce the bridge defenses.

Adler must have seen it too. His voice came sharp and clipped over the net:

“We can’t let them reinforce the bridgehead. Two strafing runs each — then proceed to primary. Follow me. Angriff!”

Voss tipped into a shallow dive, far gentler than a bomb run. His wing MGs flashed, carving into the dirt road and the men on it. As he swung around again, the infantry had scattered into ditches and brush, but he made another pass anyway, raking the undergrowth where shapes moved.

Small arms fire kicked up — brief, panicked shots — ineffective.

He broke off and pulled hard to rejoin the Kette, climbing into the sun for the next strike.

Then — his heart jolted. Something at 10 o’clock, high. Perfect angle for a diving attack.

He tensed, hands tightening on the stick.

Then... it flapped. A bird.

He exhaled. Embarrassed. Good thing he hadn’t called it out over the radio.
He’d never live that down.

---

The bridge came into view, unmistakable even from this height — the Polish engineers clearly visible, setting up on the western bank.

Attack.

Adler rolled into his dive, and Voss followed, throttling back, airspeed climbing.

He stooped into the dive. One eye on his sight, the other on the target.

Sweat ran down his neck.

Target... steady... steady...

He toggled the release — the 250kg bomb plus two 50s.

Then he yanked the stick back, hard. The Stuka resisted — like it wanted to embrace the ground. His muscles screamed as G-forces slammed into him.

Come on, come on...

She pulled out — barely.

The world steadied. Level flight. Airspeed returning.

He twisted in his seat.

Impact.

Right on target. The Polish positions vanished in a gout of fire and smoke. Secondary explosions tore up the western bank — likely the engineers’ own demolition charges. Voss’ heart leapt.

MILO (over intercom): “WOO-HAAAH! That’s the way to do it, Andi!”

Voss just grinned, panting.

---

The return to base was quiet. Too quiet, after the madness.
The landing? Anti-climactic. Smooth.

But Andreas Voss had dropped his second load of war, and the bridge still stood, for now, to carry Guderian’s armour into the heart of Poland.

A Junkers Ju 81B-1 over Poland in 1939. The letters next to the wing insignia are believed to be white on this example, and it is reported that some of the letters in white and red on the wings of these aircraft led German pilots to mistake them for the red and white checkboard national insignia of Polish aircraft. (Image credit: Luftwaffe)

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This was a much more challenging game with a poor hand of low AP action cards, and I used all my Stamina points drawing additional cards from the deck. Indeed, my last stamina point was cashed in to survive my PULLUP check. Voss's second mission was very nearly his last!

The false alarm 'bird call' was a "Approach: Enemy Contact (*)" card drawn during the approach phase, but the Mission card had no contact possible.

VPs awarded: 3

    Primary Target (Infantry Positions) Destroyed: 2 VP

    Target of Opportunity (Infantry ) damaged: 1 VP

Campaign Total: 8 VPs