There were other reasons to stay above ground: a raid on the city could be a spectacular event, and many Hamburgers admit that they often stood in their doorways or on their balconies during an attack to watch the progress of the bombs. The novelist Hans Erich Nossack recorded watching some women on the roof of a neighbour’s house applauding as a British plane, caught in searchlights, was shot down. ¹⁶Civilians have always turned out to watch battles from a supposedly safe distance – however, as Nossack makes clear, the true reason that they watched was not to see the battle in the sky but the unfolding destruction of their city. ‘I had one unequivocal wish,’ he says. ‘Let it get really bad!’ ¹⁷

Tonight Nossack was not on his balcony to witness events: he was on holiday in the countryside, just to the south of the city. Like many others he was unmoved by the sound of the sirens. It was the noise of aeroplanes humming overhead that snapped him into action.

I jumped out of bed and ran barefoot out of the house into this sound that hovered like an oppressive weight between the clear constellations and the dark earth, not here and not there but everywhere in space … One didn’t dare take a breath for fear of inhaling it. It was the sound of eighteen hundred aeroplanes [ sic] approaching Hamburg from the south at an unimaginable height. We had already experienced two hundred or even more air raids, some of them very heavy, but this was something completely new. And yet there was an immediate recognition: this was what everyone had been waiting for, what had hung for months like a shadow over everything we did, making us weary. It was the end. ¹⁸

In the centre of town many others were also beginning to realize that this was the full-scale raid they had been dreading. State Secretary Georg Ahrens was now broadcasting a warning over the radio on all channels: ‘Go immediately to your air-raid shelters! Enemy bombs may drop within the next three minutes!’ ¹⁹Soon the streets were busy with people making their way to the public shelters. There was still plenty of time, but they ran anyway, out of a desire to get a good place in the bunker and genuine fear for their lives.

For those who were late, further confirmation arrived of what lay in store for them. Cascades of bright red and yellow marker bombs, and later green ones too, fell over the city, filling the night with a miraculous glow. For one woman at least, on fire duty at one of the city’s department stores, the Tannenbäumewere a sight she would never forget: ‘I stood there looking out of the hatch at the wonderful sky. This was something one would otherwise never see … The whole sky above Hamburg alight – prettier, much prettier than a firework display.’ ²⁰

Sixteen-year-old Gotthold Soltwedel, who was serving as a flak helper on the huge flak tower in the centre of town, also saw it:

I can still remember the first ‘Christmas trees’ exactly. Dazzling coloured flames hung over us on little parachutes; and likewise on the ground, in the middle of the Heiligengeistfeld, colourful incendiaries lay as markers for the bombers. I can also still hear the first bomb howling down. It was very near. As if on command we charged away from the guns and into the entrance of the bunker, knocking our Leutnantto the floor in the process. He screamed at us dreadfully and called us cowards. ²¹

By now there were very few people out in the open – even the majority of fire wardens had taken cover, coming out intermittently to conduct quick patrols of the buildings. Earlier in the year, Goebbels had discussed with Hitler the idea that fire wardens should be stationed on the roofs of houses during air raids so that they could combat incendiary bombs as soon as they fell, but he soon realized that this would cause too many casualties. ²²In general, only official observers and those manning flak batteries were around to see the sheer mass of marker bombs, incendiaries and the spectacular explosions of the 4,000-pound ‘cookies’ and 8,000-pound ‘blockbusters’.

From his flak battery in the north east of the city, Rudolf Schurig had a panoramic view of the unfolding situation:

We soon saw anti-aircraft fire at eight o’clock, and then they were there: direction Eimsbüttel, Altona. The first Tannenbäumefell there, a glowing green hail of fire, which was to mark the target for the following aircraft. And suddenly the sky above that district was as light as day. A large number of bright parachute flares, which ignite very low down and slowly drop, lit up the district as if it were an enormous freight depot, lit by many flood lamps. Here the first anti-aircraft shells were fired, the first of our new artillery. How it thundered! … At each volley we had a feeling of security. We would show the Tommies what it meant to attack Hamburg, our Hamburg! ²³

Things started to go wrong when the effects of the RAF’s new radar-jamming device, Window, took hold. As Rudolf Schurig was soon to discover, his earlier sense of security had been misplaced:

Everything seemed to be going well, as we had practised in exercises and battle hundreds of times. But suddenly our radar apparatus stopped working. This happened regularly to this highly sensitive machinery, and would quickly be fixed; in the meantime we would switch to the neighbouring battery. But they were unable to give us any information, as their radar was also broken … It was then confirmed that none of the radar in Hamburg was functioning; we did not yet know why … A paralysing terror began to creep over us. We felt like someone who has been given a rifle to defend himself, but who is blindfolded at the same time. ²⁴

For Johann Johannsen, who was manning a flak battery in Altona, things were even worse. Altona was directly beneath the RAF marker flares, and was about to receive the full force of the bombs.

High above us we could hear the drone of the enemy machines. Suddenly countless flares were above us, so that the whole city was lit up in a magically bright light … With incredible swiftness the disaster was suddenly upon us. Before and behind our battery heavy chunks of metal were striking. Howling and hissing, fire and iron were falling from the sky. The whole city was lit up in a sea of flames! With dogged fury we remained at our guns, exposed to the raging force of the attack. Everyone looked for something to hold on to, so as not to be hurled down by the pressure of the exploding bombs. Every now and then I cast another look over towards my house. I skipped a breath – a column of fire shot up high – everything was in flames! ²⁵

Johannsen was in the unenviable position of being able to see his house from the flak position. Bound by duty to remain at his post, he was powerless to react when he saw his home on fire: the best he could do was to pray that his family had not been killed and continue firing at the enemy. In any case, with bombs raining around him there was plenty to occupy him here. Moments later he was startled by a terrible howling above him, and an incendiary bomb hurtled down exactly between his two flak guns: it crashed through the roof of the building and set fire to the fourth floor below. Despite injuries to his hands and face from exploding shards of glass, Johannsen was still not given permission to leave his post and check his family – the flak battery needed all the men it could get. Despite physical pain and mounting anxiety he remained at the guns until after the all-clear was sounded.

* * *

For some who were sheltering in bunkers and cellars, things were almost as terrifying as they were for those outside. The difference was that while the flak gunners at least had a role to play, those in the shelters could do nothing but sit and wait. The tension and uncertainty that built up over several hours became almost unbearable.