Stuka Ace: Russia - Mission 9

31 July 1941. Change of Command

The heat at the forward airfield was oppressive. Dust clung to everything; goggles, engine cowlings, even the coffee cups left on wings while crews worked. Although not quite 2 months old, the campaign had pushed far and III./StG 2 felt the strain in every exhaust stain and every new face replacing one that no longer stood on the flight line.

Having completed his day's sorties, Andrie was sorting through paperwork with his order when a staff runner came running past:

“All Staffelkapitäne and senior officers — briefing tent. Full turnout.”

It wasn’t the tone of routine orders. Something was up.

The tent was still warm and the inevitable maps lined the walls, with red pins marching east and black pins showing their own repaired or replaced machines. Voss stood among men who looked ten or more  years older than they were.

Major Brücker entered last. His tunic was immaculate, his boots polished, which immediately told the story before he spoke. No one in the field looked like that, unless they were leaving.

He cleared his throat, but unlike the morning briefings, no one mimicked him.

“Meine Herren,” Brücker began, voice even and controlled, “the Reichsluftfahrtministerium has seen fit to transfer me to Berlin. I have been posted to the Luftwaffe Generalstab, effective immediately. I will be departing tomorrow.”

No one spoke. A ripple of surprise, not disbelief, passed through the room. Brücker had shepherded them from the Bug to Smolensk. They had expected to see him at Moscow, maybe beyond.

Brücker continued “It has been my honour to lead you. You have done everything asked of you, and more than command had any right to expect. Barbarossa is far from over, but you have carried the battle ahead of the Panzers day after day. For your leadership, your skill, and most importantly your comradeship, I thank you  ”

He stepped aside, and another officer emerged from behind him. One known to them all. Tall, lean and serious-faced, his tunic bore the insignia of the Iron Cross First and Second Class.

Hauptmann Ernst-Siegfried Steen

Hard, precise, and relentless. A pilot who led in a dive, not from the rear. Hauptman Ernst-Siegfried Steen had flown with the them during the Poland campaign, the fight in France and the Battle of Britain. Now commanding I./StG 2, he was Voss’s counterpart, although senior in both rank and combat hours.

Brücker continued “Hauptmann Steen will assume command of the Geschwader tomorrow morning. He is one of the Immelman family and you all know him to be a highly capable combat commander as well as a crack pilot. We are fortunate to have him step into this role”

Steen surveyed the room, expression unreadable. Then he spoke, voice sharp and economical:

“Sturzkampfgeschwader 2 has flown well during Barbarossa. You have blooded yourselves in this campaign and further distinguished the Immelmann name. But Smolensk is only the second gateway - Moscow stands beyond. Our task is unchanged: strike first, strike hard and open the path for the Army.”

His eyes settled on Voss for half a second; not hostile, not warm. Measuring.

"We go forward. There will be no easing of tempo. Nothing has changed”

A few men exhaled softly at that- the rumours of rest, of rotation to the rear, had been fantasy. The Eastern sky would take them further yet.

The meeting ended abruptly. No speeches. Just orders to prepare the Staffel for the next day's missions under a new command.

Outside, tools rattled and engines coughed on test runs. Mechanics shouted over fuel lines. Somewhere in the distance, artillery thumped as the encircled Soviet armies still fought back..

Andreas Voss walked back toward his tent, dust curling around his boots.

A new commander. And tomorrow, like every day, the Stukas would rise.

Stuka Ace: Russian Missions 7&8

 Back in the Stuka cockpit and back to Russia!

15 July 1941. The Smolensk Cauldron

The war no longer felt like a campaign. It felt like a furnace.

A week after Minsk fell into German hands and the great encirclement swallowed whole Soviet armies, the front surged east toward Smolensk. Columns of refugees, abandoned trucks, and shell-scarred forests slid beneath Andreas Voss’ canopy day after day. Army Group Centre was driving hard, too hard, some whispered, but the Panzers continued to claw forward with the momentum of a steel tide. Between the Berezina and the approaching Dnieper, more Soviet formations were trapped or dying on the roads.

And like the rest of the VIII. Fligerkorps, Andrei and Stuka staffel flew constantly.

Morning Sortie. Breakout Column West of Orsha

Dawn came pale and washed grey over a sky rubbed raw by exhaust. Six Stukas lifted into the morning haze; Voss in the lead, five more spaced neatly in echelon like predatory birds. Their task: smash a troop column attempting to breakout of the Smolensk cauldron and rejoin the retreating Soviet army.

Even from altitude, the road was unmistakable: men, guns, horses, guns, lorries, all stretched thin across the dusty earth.

Voss broke radio silence.

“White Staffel- target sighted! Free attack pattern. Engage!”

He tipped his wings, rolled, and let gravity take him.

The scream of wind filled the canopy, echoed by the familiar sound of the Stuka's Jericho trumpets. Milo called out range, height, slip. The column bucked and swerved below like a wounded animal. Trucks slewed into ditches and Russian soldiers scattered to cover. Voss steadied his thumb and released, the sticks of light fragmentation bombs stitched up the centre of the road, engulfing two guns, men, and horses alike in black-red spray.

White 3 was next, then White 5, and in seconds the column was fire and splinters.

Light MG fire snapped upwards; angry, wild, and frightened. Not trained AA gunners, just frightened men firing machine guns into the sky. Still dangerous.

“White 2 is hit. Oil pressure dropping, engine rough,” came Rohr’s voice, tight but steady.

“Keep formation, we’ll get you home,” Voss replied.

And they did. Five aircraft returned, one trailing smoke. But no medics required.

Afternoon Sortie — Vitebsk Railhead

Barely two hours later, refuelled, rearmed, and having enjoyed a snack from the field kitchen, the Staffel climbed again into a sky now thickening with heat and thunder clouds. Intelligence reported Vitebsk rail yards under emergency repair. If the Soviets restored even a single line east, thousands might escape the cauldron.

Visibility was good as they crossed the Luchesa River. Smoke from burning depots silhouetted the rail junction like black veins through the town. Voss keyed the mic:

“White Staffel, attack in sequence! Take the rolling stock first, then the repair sheds.”

He put his Berta into a clean, deliberate dive. No theatrics, no hesitation. AA fire climbed up toward him. No scared infantry this time, but men who knew their work. Luckily they had only light calibre guns.

Focus. Utter focus. And the 1,000-kilo bomb fell true.

It hit the central siding, then the world below became a new colour — coal dust, fuel, flames tearing across sleepers like a wind-fed grassfire. The Staffel followed in ruthless rhythm. Carriages flipped. Roofs peeled away. Boilers burst. Railcars jumped from their tracks like toys struck by a hammer.

More flak burst, turning the sky white and orange. Two batteries more batteries, hidden among warehouses, adding to the barrage.

“I'm hit! White 8 hit in the engine cowling. Holding course.”

“Keep it tight, Kette 3. Do not climb into that fire.”

They dragged themselves west with an Me-109 escort arriving just as the last bursts faded behind them. Two damaged crates. No losses.

Evening

Hours later, in the long red dusk of the steppe, Andreas walked the line of patched, fuel-streaked, and silent Stukas. Men sat on ammo crates smoking mechanically, too tired for jokes, others asleep in the shade. The world smelled of hot oil and smoke.

The Russian Front was widening, consuming machines and men in equal measure. Inevitably tomorrow they would fly again, because the Panzers moved and where the Panzers moved,  Stukas went first.

Andrei rubbed a hand across his brow and looked east, where thunderstorms and war both rolled toward Smolensk.

No casualties today, he told himself. A small victory but maybe the best kind.

Stuka Ace: Russia Missions 4-6

7 July 1941

Like every day of the campaign thus far, the morning brief started precisely at 0415 when the Staffel Operations Leutnant cleared his throat. Immediately, the tent filled with the noise of every flieger clearing their throats in comradely imitation. It had become their morning ritual, accompanied by smiles over steaming mugs. Grinning back, the Leutnant inclined his head and started:

“Mein Herr and meine Herren, 

Weather will be clear this morning with increasing cloud at 5000 and 10000 feet, with likely storms later this morning when a front will start to impact our sector. Weather will then improve from noon.

Our first target is a Soviet airfield NE of Polotsk – approaching the limit of our effective range. Intelligence reports the VVS operating MiG-3s and I-16s that redeployed from the East. We need to render the base inoperable to retain air superiority in our area.  Staffel munitions will be SC1000s and standard mix of 500 and 50kg fragmentation bombs.

On return the Staffel is ordered to rearm and launch again immediately to strike a suspected artillery position much closer to their currenet operating base. Same mixed ordnance loadouts.

Fighter cover for both sorties will again be provided, but from on will be Me 109s. Our friends from ZG26 have now been assigned to ground-attack missions until further notice, to make up for losses in the bomber force.

Afternoon strike window is on call targets for the Panzers, who are scheduled to recommence offensive operations from 1200.  Supply columns had had a hard time keeping up and they are paused this morning awaiting refuelling. Fivos will be available with lead formations.

Maintenance reports two crates remain down: the wing repairs for White 9 are expected to be complete by lunchtime and ready for a test flight, but the carburettor rebuild on White 6 is awaiting parts.

Daily recognition signals and frequency allocations are available for radiomen to collect from the communications desk, as usual”

The Leutnant lowered his papers and stepped back, deferring to Andreas who stood to address them.

“Guten Morgen Kammeraden – welcome to another lovely day in Russia! 

We know what we’re about so lets get to it. We need to take out that airfield or the rest of the day will be harder than it needs to be. We hit it- and hit it hard! And then we can get onto our core business of hitting Russians from above. Lets be about it!”

75 minutes later Andreas levelled off his Berta at 10,000 feet, 5 other Stukas sliding quickly into formation around him. The dawn air was crisp and clear and he could clearly make out the promised Luftwaffe fighter cover 5,000 feet above him to the NW. 

It was a good start to what he knew would be another long day. Just like France and Greece, his Staffel was flying multiple combat missions every day, interrupted only by the need to leap frog to new operating airfields to keep up with the Panzers. The Gruppe’s ground crews struggled to make these moves over the poor Russian roads and only the British trucks and they had captured in Greece enabled them to keep up.

The sky remained clear of the enemy but the promised storm was developing well ahead of schedule. Dark clouds advanced, a thick cloud base developed blow them and visibility grew dim. Voss cursed, knowing this would impact their strike on an important target. By the time the neared the target, the rain had begun to fall.

The Red Air Force had set out improvised strips next to a permanent base that had already been punished from the air. Concrete runways remained cratered and torn, but some infrastructure remained intact to service the adjacent grass strips. Voss signalled his formation - they winged over in close succession to began their diving attacks.

Voss was determined that his 1000kg bomb would go where it would have the most effect and lined up with what looked like a collection of refuelling trucks. Russian AA fire zipped past the cockpit and Milo reported it was all bursting behind them.

As Voss pulled out of his dive a bright blast blossomed behind them, followed by huge plume of dark smoke reaching for the sky.

“That was a good one Andrei!” Milo whooped. “Ivan'll feel that for awhile!”

The radio crackled: “White 7 - hit by AA fire. Wing damaged, and I missed the target. Aircraft remains flyable – just – and able to maintain formation”

“Copy Stimpl, lets get you back home. Stay close” Voss replied.

It was easier said than done. A difficult headwind slowed their progress and Leutnant Rohr in White 2 reported his engine was running roughly, likely the result of ground fire during the attack. Then the Messerschmidt flight leader also reported he was moving to intercept a Russian closing in from behind them, but neither Voss nor any of his pilots saw the enemy fighter. Again Voss counted his blessing for the Luftwaffe’s ability to provide him dedicated escort protection.

Soviet MiG-3 destroyed on the ground, 1941

Back on the ground, a frenzy of fuel hoses and bomb carts quickly began turning the Stukas around for their next mission. An NCO yelled out and a dozen men quickly pushed White 6 to the side of the airfield, her wing damage evident and taking her out of the fight for now. Within 30 minutes, Voss was taking off once again, looking for the Russian artillery.

Targets like this were frustrating. Without accurate targeting support from the ground, the relatively mobile artillery positions were hard to find. The position had been estimated from a combination of counter artillery plotting, intelligence assessments and a large slice of guesswork. Voss didn’t like leading men into danger reliant on guesswork, informed though it may be.

The summer storm front had passed but the dark clouds and showers behind it continued to make looking for a concealed cannons like looking for needles in a haystack. Then to Voss’s surprise they started firing, revealing their position at the edge of a wood! Probably 122mm guns, he thought. They might be poorly led or have no fuel to relocate but whatever the case, Andreas had a target to attack and quickly led his men in.

The lack of AA defence was also surprising. A single MG reached up toward them but it was sporadic and wild, fired by a desperate gunner. Still, the artillery positions themselves were hard to make out along the tree line in the dim visibility. 

One by one the Stukas dropped their mix of 500kg and 50kg bombs amongst the positions but Voss only saw one gun destroyed and few secondary explosions. At least it would stop them from firing on the German army for awhile.

----------------

Landing to again refuel and rearm, a Feldwebel from Operations was waiting next to Andreas’s aircraft as soon as he shut down, beckoning him to follow as he handed over a mess tin of kaffe. Milo gave him a surly look when he saw that he Feldwebel had only one cup. Andreas tossed back half of the lukewarm but welcome fluid and handed the rest to rest to Milo as he ducked into the Operations tent.  Inside, the Leutnant was to the point.

“Reconnaissance Storch visited the airfield you hit the morning. There were some good hits but Ivan is cleaning up and its estimated to have 50% remaining capability. We have to go back and finish the job.  Me 109 fighter escort will be available from 1230hrs”

Voss nodded quietly, looking at the tactical map on the wall. Not much had changed. With some adjustments to their ingress routes this mission could be turned around quickly. He accepted some additional updates while chewing on a sandwich that had appeared from nowhere. Looking at the flying roster, he gave some directions to collect the necessary pilots for a brief. He would bring the Rookie crew in White 10 this afternoon, it was time get them some more experience.

-----------------

Formed up once again, Voss turned his Staffel North East toward the target. Conditions were clearing after the storm passing through that morning. Voss hoped the improved visibility would continue to help their re-attack on the airfield. He was looking up through a break in the clouds when he saw a telltale glint off a canopy. Was that their fighter escort taking up position? And why a single rather than the usual Schwarm? No! It was a Soviet fighter diving down on them!

Voss alerted his staffel to commence evasive manoeuvre while he tried to radio the fighter flight leader. The Luftwaffe fighters had been delayed with a collapsed wheel during take off – they were red lining their engines to be there in 2 mins. It would be a long two minutes.

Voss could now clearly identify the outline of the MiG as it swooped in from the starboard side – right into White 10. Voss was pleased to see that the green pilot Jenster wasn’t panicking, didn’t turn toward his wingmates to risk collision, and didn't scream out over the radio. The MiG opened fire at long range, tracer stitching along White 10's wing as it dived away and returned fire with its own rear gun.

Then the MiG was peeling off, a pair of 109s thundering after it.

"How are you Jenster? Everything still where it should be?" Voss asked, able to keep the concern mostly from his voice. If Jenster could play it cooly, it was the least he could do to return it.

"Jahowl Mein Herr! Starboard wing is a bit beat up but Ludwig and me are OK. Proceeding on mission"

"Sehr Gut Kurt!" Voss replied, smiling under his mask.

Voss reported the contact to his fighter escorts, who tucked in tight like protective mothers, embarrassed to have let the MiG slip through. Voss knew it wouldn't happen again.

Voss recognised the airfield immediately when it came into view for the second time that day. New fuel bowsers had been brought in amongst the burnt out aircraft and service vehicles. Visibility was better, though residual fires still put smoke into the air, and Voss and his team went directly into the attack. Their dives were good and their hits accurate, none more than White 10.  Despite their inexperience, and the wing damage and stress from the MiG encounter earlier, Jenster was showing he wasn't a pilot to be written off easily.

"Great job everyone - and well done Jenster! If your Kettenfuhrer doesn't buy you a drink tonight for that one I certainly will! Lets go home"

The trip home was quiet, anti-climatic. A curious I-16 tried to close them from the south and was chased down angrily by the Me 109s. Voss smiled, then sighed, knowing that another mission awaited them after they landed. He hoped there would be time for lunch before the next sortie.

---------------------

Game notes

Tried something different with this write up, collecting multiple games and linking them together to try and show a high tempo of flight operations. It made the entry longer though, so thanks for persevering.

It also allowed me to link in a series of poor weather conditions into a single event – seems funny to have so many storm in Summer but there you are. Because Storm of Steel uses event cards to generate weather, the chance of storms is the same in Summer as it is in Winter. 

Stuka Ace: Russia Mission 3

30 June 1941 - the Minsk encirclement

The scale of the war was hard to comprehend, and Andre found himself getting lost in the detail. Even without accounting for the flanking the Army Groups, the pace of operations in Army Group Centre was challenging to keep a grip upon. The race by the 3rd and 2nd Panzer groups to encircle their first objectives was nearing completion, and almost 300 thousand Russian soldiers were now isolated from the rest of their army. 

The mobility of the Panzers, enabled by the Luftwaffe close support like Stukas, really could do amazing things in the hands of experienced commanders who knew what they were doing. And Andres' Staffel, like everyone in the Gruppe and the Fliegerkorps for that matter, were flying at maximum rate of effort.  In the last week they had pounded targets ahead of the 3rd Panzergruppe, enabling the capture of Vilnius, Lida and now closing on Minsk. Surely the Russians couldn't keep up this rate of loss.

Peering closer at the map, Voss noted that the lead unit attacking the "Minsk Fortified Region", as the Soviets called it, was the 12th Panzer Division. He smiled, knowing his brother would be proud to be at the very front of the drive into Russia. Before that could turn to worry, he turned his mind to today's tasks.

Their first target was a bit different: a Soviet Command Post, likely belonging to the 13th Army by the signals intercepts from its transmissions. Radios were uncommon in the Red Army so this a major formation HQ. The 13th Army posed a risk to the Panzer units completing the Minsk encirclement. If they could be disrupted from the air, the Panzers would have an easier time breaching the next line. It was a long flight, but Voss was confident they could do it.

Voss looked around him and checking the formation again for the second time in 2 minutes and searching the sky for enemy aircraft. Scanning didn't keep the MiGs away, but not scanning ensured that any of them there would kill you. Unteroffizier Saunders in White 4 was lagging again. He was an experienced pilot with an unfortunate tendency to get lazy, especially on long trips.

The Soviet fighter ripped through the formation without any warning. The first Voss knew was the shouts of alarm on the radio and the sight of tracer zipping past his aircraft from behind. Voss didn't even get a good look at it before it was gone, diving back into the building rain cloud before any German fighter escorts could react. Saunders was loudest on the radio, clearly badly rattled.

"Calm down White 4" Voss ordered, hoping that radio protocol would help restore discipline.

"Came from behind, never even saw him! Cant see any damage but he must have got me somewhere - he must have!"

Saunders' Kette leader broke in and talked him through the instruments, the repetition helping to calm him. Voss lets the dialogue wash over him as he focused on navigating their way to the target. 

The rain clouds were menacing now, threatening a full storm front not expected at the meteorological brief that morning. Voss was trying to work out a way around it without exceeding their endurance or blundering into another strike zone, when the rattle of machine fire jerked his head around.

An I-16 was barrelling in from the opposite side of the formation and White 4, exposed as tail end charlie, broke off and away to evade. The Soviet pilot was on Saunders' Stuka in a second, hammering it with its two wing mounted machine guns.

Voss watched helplessly as the Stuka caught fire, turned over and began a death dive.

He had a glimmer of hope when he saw the canopy open and a figure leap out from the front pilot position. But only the single parachute bloomed. Voss used a grease pencil to mark the position on the map. Well behind enemy lines.

Satisfied with its kill, the I-16 peeled away and disappeared.

"Close up the formation - proceed to Target" he ordered. He had nothing else to say.

At the target zone, Voss quickly found the antenna farm of the Headquarters. It had been hastily erected and poorly concealed. Marking that target for his own bomb run, he directed his pilots to find their own and focused on putting his 1000kg bomb right on target.

AA fire reached up toward the attacking Stukas- a mix of 40mm and 76mm calibre. It was barrage fire, not accurate. These gunners had yet to get experience firing at manoeuvring targets. All the better, Voss thought as he kept his dive on target and released the big bomb right on target, knowing it would fly true to obliterate the delicate antenna facility.

At 12,000 feet the Stukas regrouped and Voss turned them for home- deeply conscious of the missing plane. Nobody had trouble maintaining focus on the long, silent flight home.

That night in the operations tent, the Gruppenkommandeur listened quietly as Voss delivered his verbal report. The map pins were moving east — Minsk was almost surrounded — but he saw the weary lines around Voss’s eyes. “You’re down a machine,” he said flatly. Voss nodded. “And a crew.”

"Losses are inevitable Andreas, but that doesn't make them easy. You know this. The others need you too". Voss nodded, knowing it was true. Somehow that made it a little bit worse.

Later, Voss stood quietly and looked at the new wooden cross next to the one they had planted less than a week before. This one bore the name of White 5's gunner, Gefrieter Jakob Fernanz. An hour ago, Voss had signed the signal message declaring Uffz Leohard Saunder Missing, likely captured, after being shot down behind Soviet lines.

3 men lost in a week. He didn't know about the Russians but he knew his Staffel couldnt sustain such losses.

----------

HQ Range 6

2 x SC-1000

W1, Kette 1, W8

1- nil, nil

2-intercept from nowhere!  W4+5CS

3-rain,

4-storm, 1xI-16 W4 fire! pilot bailout (POW), gunner KIA

5- hgeadwind! no effect

6- target. Mdm AA  W3+1CS, W8+1CS(flight leader used) 

W1-100, W2-30, W4-40, W8-miss (Ave 42)

5 - nil

4- mech failure W1, ok. 1 x MiG3 - chased off

3-tailwind!

2-nstr

1. nstr

landing nstr

score 

Stuka Ace: Russia Mission 2

24 June 1941 - Brest Fortress, Bug River

The Russian border fortress of Brest, well sited on the Bug River, stubbonly resisted despite two days of being pummelled by artillery and having been completely encircled. From the Operations Map, Voss could see it was already behind the main line of advance with Panzer spearheads already more than 50kms beyond. But it was holding up the German infantry that had to root out the defenders, and the German 34th and 45th Infantry Divisions were already behind schedule. It was developing into an ugly, street to street battle that Stukas couldn't help much with. 

The column of infantry moving to reinforce the defenders were, however, something his Staffel could attend to.  Signals and aerial reconnaissance indicated a Soviet column — likely remnants of bypassed border units — moving to reinforce Brest. If intercepted now, before they reached the garrison, it would help the 45th Infantry secure the fortress. Voss waved over the Operation Feldwebel to muster the aircrews and receive his orders.

Brest Fortress, containing 9000 Soviet defenders

--------

The third day of the great offensive began under a steel-grey canopy of rainclouds. Though the border had been crossed in force, the land remained soaked and obscured. With the shower front pushing through, visibility was poor, and navigation became a matter of gut instinct and instruments. Still, Oberleutnant Andreas Voss took comfort in the distant knowledge that Zerstörergeschwader 26’s twin-engine Messerschmitts circled above somewhere, ready to ward off enemy fighters.

The Staffel flew through buffeting winds and shifting cloud, cutting low above sodden forest and field, until a break in the weather gave them their first glimpse of the objective: Soviet troops, marching in staggered column along a road northeast of Brest Fortress.

“White 1 to Staffel — Target located. Prepare for attack run.”

Suddenly, Milo’s voice from the rear seat: “MiGs, high two o’clock!”

Two MiG-3s emerged through a tear in the cloudbank, cutting across the Staffel’s flight path in a shallow dive. Their high speed was a threat — but they were too late. Before they could line up their attack, ZG26 struck. Two Messerschmitt Bf 110s came down from high cover, cannon shells stitching across the sky. The Soviets turned to meet them, their attack broken.

The Stukas were left alone - time to go to work.

Voss rolled into his attack dive, knowing that four others were right behind him in sequence. Even through the murk and scattered flak, he could see shapes — khaki-clad forms and horse-drawn carts. Some men stopping to fire, others scattering. Scattered tracer climbed up toward him, disappearing over his starboard wing.

Then his bombs were away with a jolt.

As he climbed out of his dive he saw White 7 pull up awkwardly behind him. On the radio came the terse voice of his wingman:

“White 7 to White 1 — took some fire on the run in. My gunner’s gone. Aircraft flyable.”

The flak had been light, poorly aimed, but deadly enough to claim a life.

Voss led them out through a narrow escape corridor. As they curved northeast, he glanced back through his canopy. A shimmer of silver caught his eye — the telltale gleam of sunlight on plexiglass.  MiG-3s again! Same ones or did they call in friends? Regardless, they were racing in, delayed too long by poor coordination or the lack of radios so typical in the Red Army.

The enemy was closing fast when, again, they broke formation and peeled away. Voss craned his neck just in time to see why — more Me 110s, diving like hawks into a pair of startled pigeons. The Stukas flew on, undisturbed.

They landed with incident and Voss walked over to White 7 with its smashed and bloodied canopy. Voss stood by the pilot, Feldwebel Friedrich Stimpl. He silently gave him a cigarette and then quietly led him away in the direction of the mess.

---------

“Mixed results,” Voss told the Gruppe Operations Officer later, under the canvas awning beside the flight line. 

“Some hits. Column scattered. One loss — gunner only.” He paused. 

“White 7 held formation despite the damage.” 

He lit a cigarette. “Stimpl will be OK, but he’ll carry it for awhile.”

-------

That evening, as dusk rolled across the edge of the forest, Voss stood silently beside a rough wooden cross. The army chaplain had just offered the field prayer. The grave was shallow, the earth fresh and raw.

Gefreiter Rolf Hozzel, radioman, 9. Staffel, had been laid to rest in the first 72 hours of the campaign.

Voss stood in silence. This was not the first man he had lost under his command. It would not be the last. But this campaign was merely three days old and young Rolf was, had been, just 21 years of age— and that made the burial feel more bitter.

--------

Game Notes

Mission 2: June 41

Target: Russian Troops (Medium size traget) = Zone 4

Staffel strength assigned: 5

Staffelkapitän  + W7 + Kette 3 (Lt Klüber) (all armed with 500kg + 4 x 50kg Cluster munitions)

Zone 1  - Rain. Target Zone Vis = Mdm. Full Cover

Zone 2 - Warm fire in the distance, No Contact

Zone 3 - Friend or Foe (+1 stress Staffelkapitain), 2 x MiG-3 chased off my Fighter escort

Zone 4 - Target! Vis Mdm (+1) AA Light (W3: Gunner KIA!)

-2 Ord, -1 Vet, +1 Vis 

Attack results: W1-40, W7-5, W8-55, W9-40, W10-5

Average Attack Result: 30

Egress Phase

Zone 3 - Angel Wings - no intercept - CAP racing to now empty attack area (Inexp pilots/FAC)

Zone 2 - N/E. 2 x MiG 3 intercepted by fighters

Zone 1 - Storm - Low Vis, Full fighter cover

Home airfield - NSTR

Stuka Ace: Russia Mission 1

22 June 1941

Target: Soviet Airfield near Kobrin, Western Belarus
9. Staffel, III./Sturzkampfgeschwader 2 “Immelmann”

Before dawn touched the eastern horizon, the twelve Ju 87s of 9. Staffel thundered down the dirt strip in eastern Poland, one after another, heavy with bombs and expectation. Oberleutnant Andreas Voss, Staffelkapitän, led from the front in the first Kette, flying with Leutnant Rohr’s and Leutnant Klüber’s Ketten tight behind him. Their target: a Red Air Force base near Kobrin, deep inside Soviet territory.

Voss’s own aircraft bore a single 1,000 kg bomb beneath its fuselage — a steel promise meant for something big, like the main hangar. The rest of the Staffel carried a mix of 500 kg and 50 kg munitions, enough to scatter devastation across the Soviet airfield like grain to the wind. Their primary task, indeed the task of the whole Luftwaffe today, was the turn the Red Air Force into scrap on the ground.

As they crossed into Russian airspace under cover of darkness, nothing stirred. No searchlights, no flak — not even a radio challenge. The border was undefended, the enemy utterly unprepared. It was exactly as the briefing had predicted, yet still somehow surreal. 

 “Nothing,” Voss muttered into his throat mic. 

 “Ivan’s still asleep.” Milo replies. "Lets hope he sleeps in a bit longer" 

 About 50 kilometers inside the border, a lone I-16 fighter emerged from the morning haze. It made a cautious approach toward the formation, but before it could threaten the Stukas, a pair of Messerschmitt Bf 110s from ZG 26 swept down from altitude. The Soviet pilot turned tail and vanished into the haze. Voss briefly wondered whether one of the Zerstörer pilots was his old comrade, Otto Brenner, now flying as part of the air superiority screen. 

With Milo keeping a sharp lookout, Voss's eyes were focused on his map to guide his staffel to their target Thanks to a steady tailwind, they reached the target area quickly. By then, the early light had begun to wash across the airfield below, revealing rows of parked aircraft — mostly biplanes and I-16s — standing in perfect order, motionless, undefended. 

Voss gave the attack command and lead them in - he would lead this attack from the front. Like the veteran combat pilot he was, he dipped his wing, identified the main target, and kept the plane rolling until he was inverted and began the dive. 

He could do it in his sleep. No tricks, no heroics - and no need for them. It was like a basic practice run and he released his bomb at an optimal altitude before starting his pull-up. 

As the Gs slammed into him like an unwelcome old friend, he hoped this was not the time that the Russian gunners would deign to notice him. They didn't. 

His bomb struck dead centre of the main hangar. The detonation of the 1000kg bomb tossed twisted sheets of metal skyward as fire erupted from the shattered building. Secondary explosions cooked off whatever was inside.

His two Kette peeled off and their bombs fell in rapid succession — hangars, fuel trucks, aircraft, barracks. There was no anti-aircraft fire, no alarms, no resistance at all. The airfield had been caught flat-footed and paid for their negligence. Andreas knew this turkey-shoot would not be repeated. 

Soviet I-16s destroyed on the ground

Below, wreckage burned in orange and black, spewing columns of dense smoke. A line of I-153s and I-16s turned into debris. Two bombs scored direct hits on fuel stores, sending shockwaves across the tarmac. Running ground staff were scythed down with the fragmentation effects of the 50kg bombs mixed into the payloads. It was a decisive first blow, and it was time to leave.

Turning west for the return leg, the Staffel remained tight and alert. But their clean escape was short-lived. 

Roaring in from the South West, likely drawn by the columns of smoke coming from the airfield, a lone I-16 roared in — possibly the same one they’d encountered earlier — and executed a direct, frontal attack into Kette 2. as the Stukas started to take evasive action, Voss saw a long stream of fire erupt from the I-16's four 7.62mm MGs surround the lead Stuka of Kette 2. Tracers stitched the air; two rounds slammed into the Stuka’s engine cowling, but the plane held course. Voss could hear the shaken voice of Leutnant Klüber over the radio.

"Keep close to your wingmen Friedrich! Your gunners will be able to mass fire when he comes about! If you split off he'll pick you off for sure!" 

"Jawohl Mein Herr. Ich bin gut- no major damage" 

 As it was, the Communist fighter broke off, unwilling to approach the massed fire of the 7 stukas. No doubt he was rattled he the morning;'s surprise attack. Voss could only hope all his friends were too, but it soon looked like that wasn't the case. Milo spotted two MiG-3s above them, positioning for an attack. These were much more dangerous opponents - highly capable and only just getting to the Soviet fighter units in number now. Voss called in the sighting and was pleased to see the distinctive shape of Me 110s angling in to intercept them. Voss was thankful to soon loose sight of them as they duelled behind him. 

A welcome friend - Me 110 Zerstorer

The last part of their egress was uneventful, but they had a bird's eye view of the front bursting into life. It looked as if every gun in the Army was firing on the Red Army border positions. The Staffel touched down in good order, one by one, tires kicking up plumes of Polish dust as mechanics ran to meet them.  Crews climbed down in silence, the adrenaline ebbing, faces pale and hands shaking. Some lit cigarettes. Others crouched beside their aircraft in quiet disbelief. 

The Staffel Sergeant Major approached up to his Stuka and pressed a mess-tin of kaffe into his hands as he climbed down. “All birds home, Herr Oberleutnant.” 

 Voss only nodded, eyes scanning eastward toward the grey sky. They had struck first. But the war was just beginning. 

Voss strode quickly to the Ops tent as the ground crews started the refuelling and rearming process. Voss needed to be on-hand to plan the next sortie, knowing he and his men would be airborne again within the hour.

BEGIN SIGNAL MESSAGE
SUBJECT: MISSION REPORT – 9./StG 2
TIME: 22.06.41 // 0655 hoursREPORT: MISSION SUCCESSFUL.

TARGET: VVS AIRFIELD - KOBRIN
STAB + KETTE 1 & 2 STRUCK PRIMARY TGT. KETTE 3 STRUCK ALT TGT 10KM SE.
SURPRISE COMPLETE.
NO FLAK, NO ALARM, NO DEFENCE.
MAIN HANGAR DEST. 8 ENEMY AIRCRAFT DESTROYED ON GROUND. MULTIPLE SECONDARY EXPLOSIONS.
ENEMY FIGHTERS DURING EGRESS INTERCEPTED BY ZG 26. NO LOSSES.
GOOD VISIBILITY. RETURN FLIGHT AS PLANNED. ALL AIRCRAFT LANDED SAFELY. PREPARING FOR NEW TASKING

END MESSAGE

------------------------

Game Notes

An experiment, this time flying the mission using "Storm of Steel" from Compass Games - with a view to combining with Stuka Ace.

Mission 1: June 41

Target: Russian Airfield = Zone 3

Staffel strength assigned: 7 

Staffelkapitän (1000kg bomb) + Kette 1 (Lt Rohr) & Kette 2 (Lt Klüber) (all 500kg + 4 x 50kg)

All assigned aircrew are Veteran quality - with Oblt Voss and Gunner Ace status (naturally!)

Zone 1  - nil event, no contact - Russians are asleep!

Zone 2 - +1 stress Crew White 3, 1 x I-16, chased off by Fighter cover (ZG26)

Zone 3 - Tailwind. Advanced to Target area

Zone 4 - Target! Visibility Good (0 DRM), AA Nil! (caught Ivan napping)

Attack results: W1-100, W2-100, W3-80, W4-100, W5-80, W6-60, W7-60

Average Attack Result: 82

Egress Phase

Zone 3 - No effect, Intercepted by 1 x I-16, nil fighter escort available

        I-16 frontal attack: 2 hits on W5 +5stress, +1 Stress. Flight leader ability-1 = 5 (no bail out required)

Zone 2 - Rain. nil effect. 2 x MiG-3 chased off by fighter escort

Zone 1 - Ace - 2stress to W5. Full fighter cover

Home airfield - all aircraft landed safely.

System Comparison

This game focuses on running a Staffel of up to 10 Stukas, and the aircrew who fly them. You assign them to tasks, and have to manage their wounds and damaged aircraft. Aircrew also accumulate stress, and if they don't get time off, it starts to significantly impact their effectiveness. Its an additional level I very much like.

Curiously, it doesn't include staffel formations or use of altitude which Stuka Ace does. I think the formation is something that would porte across well

In Combat and attacking, the additional detail of what is happening to the other A/C is great! Each is resolved individually to give granularity - albeit simply compared to Stuka Ace, though that process would not scale well at all.

Thats my first impressions anyway - more to follow. Once I've got a couple of missions under my belt I'll start the integration attempts!