Stuka Ace: Poland Mission 3

Forward Operating Field — Near Grudziądz, September 2, 1939

By the time the sun broke through the September mist, Leutnant Andreas Voss had already sweated through his flight suit. His squadron — battered, half-deaf from yesterday’s sorties, and reeking of fuel and gun oil — had received orders to relocate east, closer to the front.

The panzers were rolling fast, and the Stukas had to keep pace. And then the logistics train had to keep pace with them. Inevitably, the fuel supplies, bomb trucks, spare parts, and the myriad of other support equipment, including their field kitchen, were scattered in a line behind them somewhere, mixed up with the other tendrils of the advancing army.

Their new “airfield” was a patch of farmland near Grudziądz — hastily flattened, marked with white linen strips, and just dry enough to land on without swallowing a landing gear whole. A few canvas tents, a single radio truck, a fuel bowser already leaking. That was it.

Voss' eyes were on the field hospital tent already going up across the way. The sight of stretchers being offloaded from trucks sent a chill through him.

---

They had maybe an hour on the ground after moving up. Mechanics scrambled to refuel the birds while pilots pissed in bushes, inhaled cold sausages from ration tins, and tried to rest their eyes for even five minutes. The air reeked of smoke, oil, and metal.

Oblt. Adler stood over a map stretched across the hood of a staff car, his cap off, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and grime. He barked a few instructions to the crew crew chiefs, then waved the pilots over. He tapped the map sharply with a grease-blackened finger.

“Polish units are falling back toward the Vistula crossings. We're to hit one near Świecie this afternoon. Another bridge - this time we destroy it to trap the Poles on this side where Guderian can finish them off. Expect flak.”

He gave his pilots a quick glance as he passed over the aerial photos.

            "Go for the center span. No delays. No second passes.” 

Afterwards, Voss leaned against Berta’s wing under the camo net and chewed his lip. He wasn’t tired — not yet — but his bones had started to feel it. Like the adrenaline could only carry him so far before the crash came. He was used to flying but not with this intensity, and he wouldn't be the weak point of the Staffel.  Knowing the G forces he needed to pull soon, he skipped lunch and had cold coffee while he studied the aerial photos again.  Next to him a single 500kg bomb was being loaded— nothing fancy this time, this was a brute-force demolition task.

JU87 B-1 of StG2 camouflaged at an airstrip in Poland, Sep 39

Mission 3.  Afternoon Strike — Near Świecie, 2 September 1939

The Stukas lifted off after midday into clear skies. The initial nerves of their first day of combat behind them, Voss and his wing mates slipped quickly and easily into a textbook formation.* The skies remained empty of friend and foe alike, almost like another training exercise. A band of cloud build up at low altitude, and their Kette went over them to obscure them from ground observers and hopefully throw any expected FLAK off.**

Then, through a gap in the clouds, Voss saw their target. A big, dual lane bridge of steel construction and multiple pylons***. It would take quite a beating before it dropped, and Voss wanted to be the one to do it.

Following his Kette Leader to the target, winged over in sequence and started screaming down onto the bridge, centre span in his reticle. He had one shot to get this right.

Some FLAK reach up toward them - it was light but accurate and he felt some of the effects jostling him around, making his dive a little erratic. Refocusing, he corrected and sank into his dive, sirens screaming as the Poles beneath him scattered in terror. 

400feet, he ignored a Polish truck frozen on the bridge below, possibly trying to flee across, 350 feet, 300...

"Pull Up Voss!" Adler ordered over the radio

Voss toggled the bomb release and felt the sudden weightlessness as the 500kg payload left the belly of the plane.

Pull up. Pull up. He jabbed his control stick as deeply into his belly as he could. He could hear Milo grunting behind up and the Gees built.

Then — crump!
The blast behind him lit the horizon.

Milo whooped into the intercom. “Direct hit! You split the bloody thing in half!”

Voss's face split in half too, as he smiled fiercely. The trip home was uneventful, almost routine, after that.

Sochaczew Bridge during the German invasion of Poland, 1939. 

--------

Adler was angry. He paced in front of them, map rolled under one arm, flying goggles pushed up into a matted tangle of blond hair. His voice carried without needing to shout.

“Świecie was a success. Bridge destroyed. Confirmed by reconnaissance. Guderian’s spearhead crossed the river two hours later — unopposed. That’s on us.”

A small pause, his eyes scanning the group. They were young, even for this war. Some still had that first-mission shine in their eyes. Others — like Voss — were shedding it fast.

He continued.

“Leutnant Voss.”

Andreas straightened, boots clicking.

“You hit the center span. Exactly as ordered. I saw the blast from altitude. You made the bridge impassable — textbook work.”

A few of the others clapped him on the shoulder, Milo gave him a grin that could split concrete.

“But—” Adler stepped closer, voice low but unmistakably firm. “You were a second late on your pull. I know the flak was tight. I know the temptation to ride it in. But you pull late, and the man behind you might never get a clear run. Or worse — he runs out of sky before he can deliver his own strike. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Herr Oberleutnant,” Voss said quietly.

Adler nodded once, satisfied. No berating, no humiliation — just a statement of fact, and a truth earned in blood before Spain and reinforced now in Poland.

He turned back to the group.

“You're flying well. All of you. But remember — the bridge doesn't matter if we don't make it back. None of this matters if you don't fly smart and disciplined. That was the difference between dead men and survivors in Spain, and it'll be the same here.”

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

*Perfect Formation event - additional action card

** Worsening Weather event

*** Bridge -1#HIT

**** FLAK value 0 but #AAFire was a 6, giving  a -1 to release.

I had a good hand of action cards this time, including an extra one from the PERFECT FORMATION on approach. One of those was a +3 for Pull up, so I felt daring and went for the lowest Pullup to maximise the chances of taking out the target with the single 500kg bomb. I also through some extra Stamina into the Release. The results speak for themselves but I didnt have much left for any Targets of Opportunity.

Getting a bit of a false sense of security without any any enemy fighters around. Yet...

Victory Points

    Target destroyed (Bridge) + 4 VPs

    Cumulative VP total: 12

Prestige Points): 1

PS Next instalment will be delayed due to work travel- sorry!

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)

----

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

Stuka Ace: Poland Mission 1

Starting my first Campaign and where better than Sep 1939 and the unveiling of Blitzkrieg. The Stuka in its close air support role would come to epitomise lighting war, so lets ride along with them.

This game is meant to be an immersive narrative game, so excuse me if I indulge in a bit of creative flair. After all, they say that everyone has a novel inside them! I'm enjoying delving into the details of some of the campaigns too. While our characters are fictional, everything else will be as historically correct as possible. 

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

Name: Leutnant Andreas “Andy” Voss

Date of Birth: 6 June 1918
Place of Birth: Erfurt, Thuringia, Germany
Rank: Leutnant
Unit: Sturzkampfgeschwader 2 “Immelmann”
Aircraft: Ju 87B-1 BERTA Stuka
Nickname: “Der Jüngste” (“The Young One”)

Andreas Voss came of age in the twilight years of the Weimar Republic — a time of poverty, fractured pride, and quiet rearmament. His father had been a medic in the Great War, his older brother Johann joined the Reichswehr infantry in the early 1930s, and as a lanky, sharp-eyed teenager, Andreas dreamed not of trenches, but of flying above them.

He joined the National Socialist Flyers Corps (NSFK) in 1935, where he trained on gliders, and was later funnelled into the expanding Luftwaffe flight schools. He received his wings in 1938, just before the annexation of the Sudetenland, and was transferred to a Ju 87 unit still testing dive-bombing tactics near Breslau. Completing his specialist school training his joined his first operational unit-Sturzkampfgeschwader 2 

He idolizes the older pilots- especially men like his Kette Leader Oberleutnant Karl-Heinz Adler, already a legend in the making after his service in Spain with the Condor Legion. Voss sees the Stuka as the ultimate weapon of precision, and believes that the new, modern German war machine will avoid the horrors of 1914–18.

He also formed a solid bond with his Gunner/radioman Unteroffizier Emil “Milo” Mertens (his nickname comes from Milchkaffee, jokingly given by his comrades for his love of sweetened milk-coffee). The son of a coal miner, his upbringing was shaped by the economic devastation of the 1920s and he enlisted out of necessity. He’s not flashy or overly patriotic, but he’s fiercely loyal. He’s older than Andy by six years, has a dry wit, and a cigarette perpetually tucked behind one ear.

Poland "Fall Weiss" (Case White)

Invasion of Poland: Fall Weiss

Sturzkampfgeschwader 2’s Ju 87 Stukas had been assigned to 1. Flieger-Division of Luftflotte 1, supporting Generaloberst Fedor von Bock’s Heeresgruppe Nord in the initial offensive. Their objective: to smash through the Polish Corridor, link up with 3rd Army in East Prussia, and then drive hard toward Warsaw. With 24 divisions in the field, von Bock’s army would demand near-constant close air support — and the Luftwaffe would be on-call to attack dynamic, fast-shifting targets. High on the list: roads, bridges, harbours, and concentrations of enemy troops or artillery that might hinder the momentum of the Blitzkrieg.

As Leutnant Andreas Voss studied the operations map pinned inside a field tent, his eyes lingered on the marker for XIX. Armee-Korps, commanded by the rising star of armored warfare, General der Panzertruppe Heinz Guderian. Voss had personal stakes in this war: his older brother, Feldwebel Johann Voss, marched with the 2. (Motorisierte) Infanterie-Division, assigned to Guderian’s spearhead. If all went to plan, Johann would be storming across the Polish border in parallel with Andreas’ first mission.

Mission 1: 1st Sep 1939

Voss's first mission was pre-dawn, under a clear, moonlit sky. Lines of Heinkel bombers thundered out ahead of them — en route to hit Polish airbases and landing strips in a bid to wipe out the enemy air force on the ground. But StG 2’s job that morning was different: destroy fortifications along the Army's line of march. Pilots from another StG2 Staffel had been out earlier this morning to raid the Polish town of Wielun, in what was rumoured to be the first attack of the whole Campaign! 

Voss refocused: his Kette's target was a battery of 100mm howitzers dug in near Tczew, threatening a key river crossing that the army needed to use. The guns had to be destroyed.

Takeoff was uneventful and the transit flight was in clear skies with no enemy aircraft in sight. Andreas, tense but focused, stuck tight to his Kettenführer.

Then came the target.

As the formation peeled into its first dive, Andreas’ fingers trembled slightly on the throttle. The sky seemed to explode around him with anti-aircraft fire, dark puffs of shrapnel blossoms reaching up, hungry. The Jericho-Trompete, that unholy mechanical scream attached to his undercarriage, wailed as the Ju 87 shrieked earthward. The G-force crushed into him. The world funnelled into a single point on the ground: the gun emplacement....

And then- Release!

A sudden lightness. Voss yanked the stick back hard, the Stuka groaning under the stress of the pullout. Climbing back into level flight, he twisted in his harness to look—

Direct hit!
A plume of earth and fire where the howitzer had been, and a plume of smoke starting to rise

Target destroyed!

The Stukas reformed in clear skies and turned for home — but below....movement! A column of Polish infantry advancing along the main road, unaware of the threat above.

Adler’s voice crackled through the intercom: "Angreifen! Strafe the column!”

The Stukas peeled away again, now in shallow dives. Andreas lined up neatly and opened fire with his twin wing-mounted MG 17s, sending tracer fire stitching down the road. The Polish infantrymen scattered in panic, diving for ditches and tree lines. A number stumbled and fell, unmoving. The Stukas climbed and left the carnage behind them.

By the time the Kette landed back at the forward strip, the sun was climbing high and Voss was all grins. Oil-smudged ground crew swarmed the aircraft. As he pulled off his flight goggles and gloves, Oblt. Adler approached and slapped him on the back of his leather flight jacket

“You hit it clean, Jüngste,” he said, handing over a flask of schnapps with a rare, approving smile.
As the other pilots came over to congratulate him, Voss thought to himself “I hope my brother’s having as good a morning.”

First mission and I enjoyed it, despite getting a few things wrong.

Admittedly I had a strong hand of Action Cards so I could really stack up the modifiers to get the direct hit with my single 500kg bomb

5 VPs Awarded 

    Primary Target destroyed: Gun emplacement destroyed: 3

    Target of Opportunity destroyed: Infantry troops: 2

Campaign Total: 5

Note: In generating the campaign I will be flying 7 missions in Poland, representing the intense operational tempo of the Stuka Squadrons which were always in high demand.

Ju 87 Stuka Ace

Its been a bit of a settling in period and I'm yet to connect with a gaming group in the new locale, but I've finally played my first game in the new apartment: Ju.87 Stuka Ace, by Lock n Load publishing.

All setup to begin the campaign in Poland 1939

A crowdfunded project from early 2023, it had some snags along the way (like most of them really) but, having forgotten all about it, I finally got my copy courtesy of the safe hands of Comrade James (thanks again mate!). The components are beautiful and the neoprene game mat really brings them all together well.

I'm still working through the mechanics but broadly its an immersive campaign game, and includes options for flying with the Condor Legion, in every theatre across WW2 including Italian Stukas over the Med, and what-if campaigns for flying the folding wing C-models off the deck off the German Aircraft Carrier Graf Zeppelin (scrapped in real life), or the models trialled by Japan in China!

Ahhh...that new game smell!

Given my lack of tabletop gaming, I'll plan to record my sorties and campaign on this blog. 

The game support page at BGG is here:

https://boardgamegeek.com/boardgame/361488/ju-87-stuka-ace