“I must say this does look wrong on so many levels.” General der Jagdflieger Galland said to the Luftwaffe General in command of Erprobungsstelle Echterdingen. [1]
“You will be surprised how difficult it is to get parts for the Merlin Engine, Sir. We shoot down enough of theirs but all too often we cannot salvage anything because of the crash or because it happens behind enemy lines. Also there are at least nine different marques of the Merlin we know about, General.”
Galland grunted.
“How does this fly?”
“Surprisingly good, Sir.” the General said. “When we first tested it we had the worst nightmares and it's not as predictable as a 109, but it flies and it is enough for our purpose. We modified all four Spitfires we have, and Wanderzirkus Rosarius likes them, as we can use our Merlin parts to keep our other planes going.”
Justifying four Dbs for use in a captured Aircraft had been hard enough, eight was damn near impossible which was why the two captured Lancasters, one shot down near Essen last march and the other captured when the Pilot had mistaken Southern France for Northern Italy after a raid were still using strained and twice-overhauled Merlins.
KG-200 was the red-headed stepchild of all the zBVs in the Luftwaffe and was flying a ridiculous mixture of all sorts of Aircraft, mostly British but also several lingering French types and until they had been grounded for lack of spares two ex-polish fighters.
As Galland watched several mechanics were towing a formerly Dutch Mosquito out of a Hangar.
“We also replaced most of the electrics on our planes.” the General said, “the English are using a different voltage and we can't really make repairs to that.”
“So that,” Galland said and gestured towards the Spitfire, “is the result of the type of juice coming out of the socket as much as the shortage of parts?”
“Yes, Sir. We keep most of the others flying with hand-made parts and whatever we can scrounge, but we need those Spitfires the most, for training and what not, and so we can't afford to have them on the ground two thirds of the time.”
The Mosquito taxied and took off. As it roared overhead the General gestured at it and said: “Ironically this one is the easiest to repair. Lots of carpentry in this area.”
They shared a laugh and Galland turned towards the hangar.
“Aren't you worried about bombing?” he said, “I mean the British must know just what these works are making.”
“It hasn't been bombed yet, and in any case this is why you are here, Sir.”
“You want to be able to move just in case?”
“Yes, Sir.” the General said, “we haven't been bombed yet but I believe it is only a matter of time. It's nice to just be able to get a new engine during the coffee break but we are dangerously close to what has to be a target for bombing and many of these planes are irreplacable.”
Galland nodded and then noticed the Bloch MB.150 in the corner of the hangar.
“Why are you keeping crates like this one around for?”
The term OpForCombat was not yet coined but the General clearly was a believer in the concept.
“For training, Sir.”
Galland nodded as he realized what the General was on about.
“Of course. Pilots usually train against their Squadron...”
“Yes, Sir. And the more dissimilar the aircraft the better the effect.”
Galland agreed with that. The two Lancasters were invaluable for training, it was the KG 200 that had discovered that you best attacked them from below and behind, and when painted in a fantasy RAF scheme they were often used to make propaganda pictures.
“I will see what I can do.” Galland said and stepped aside to let the Soviet Liaison Officer through.
The General smiled.
“I can show you our newest catch then, Sir.”
They walked across the hangar to where it stood.
A Supermarine Spitfire Mk.Vd and still with a Merlin Engine fitted, holes patched up but otherwise in pristine condition.
“Where did you get that one?” Galland asked and noted that except for the yellow tail and wingtips the plane still wore the dark brown of the Polish Air Force.
“It came in two weeks ago, and we just managed to get it flyable again this morning.”
He said nothing more, but Galland wasn't listening anyway. He had walked up to it and was looking into the cockpit. He noted that the instruments and levers were all marked in English. When he remarked this to the General the answer was:
“They build them in British Factories and their pilots learn to fly at British flying schools. The Allies use English for trans-national communications...”
“So they all learn it anyway so why bother expend time and money changing the planes.”
Galland sat into the cockpit and the General barely dared to suggest what Galland clearly wanted to do.
Galland looked over and looeked at the General's uncomfortable face and laughed hard.
“Can it fly?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Am I a qualified Fighter Pilot?”
The General knew that Galland kept himself qualified on -190s and -109s.
“Yes, Sir.” he said reluctantly.
As a reply Galland merely pulled the canopy close and familiarized himself with the aircraft. The layout was not to different. He wouldn't fly it today but he would be coming back tomorrow.
+-+-+-+-
Comments, questions, rotten Tomatoes?
[1] Near Stuttgart. Today the local airport, and OTL the abomination on top of this chapter was evaluated there. I come past the airport twice a day and IIRC the Americans still have some logistics units there.