Ernst Udet, although no close friend of Göring, was just such a flyer. Udet was an amiable, much-travelled man who lived only for flying. Germany's second most successful fighter ace (after von Richthofen), Udet had continued to fly after the war. He had got finance for an aircraft factory that bore his name, took one of his products — a U.4 — to South America, and won an air race from Rosario to Buenos Aires. He severed his relationship with the Udet factory, and lived by giving stunt-flying demonstrations round Germany. He flew for an expedition filming African wildlife, and went so low that one of the aircraft was damaged by a lion that jumped at it. He made an impressive showing at the National Air Races in Cleveland, Ohio, where he stunted his old Flamingo biplane. He flew in Hollywood and in Greenland, where he worked with Leni Riefenstahl, the famous German woman film-maker. In the USA, in September 1933, Ernst Udet watched a flying demonstration of Curtiss F8C biplanes. These were rather old by American standards and the Americans had no objection to Udet's buying them. The Curtiss company called this design a "Helldiver' and gave the same name to all their subsequent dive-bomber designs. Although the exact way in which Udet found enough money to buy two such machines has not been established, it seems virtually certain that on Udet's recommendation, Göring paid money into Udet's bank account, and the aircraft, when shipped to Germany, were tested for the new air force. The concept of aircraft using machine guns and small bombs against front-line infantry had been discussed by German theorists since the First World War. Now Udet demonstrated his Helldivers, and the accuracy of this sort of bombing attack — within 30 yards of the target was not unusual for an expert pilot — persuaded the German Air Ministry to ask Junkers and other companies to design such a machine. The Junkers Ju 87, the famous Stuka, was the result. It became the world's most successful dive bomber.
Many times Udet was offered a job with Göring, but he was unable to decide what he wanted to do. And yet during these years, when the air force was being created, Udet always had access to the top levels of command. It was a memorandum of Udet's in 1933 that first considered the military application of the glider. This idea eventually brought far-reaching changes to military operations. And Udet kept in touch with the aircraft industry too, and could prove as suspicious of new ideas as Göring was. In August 1935, 39 years old and still a civilian, he sat in the cockpit of the Bf 109 prototype. Professor Messerschmitt said that Udet looked uneasy as the mechanic closed the canopy over his head. The prototype was not yet ready to fly but Udet pronounced on it. "When he got out, he patted me on the back and said, 'Messerschmitt, this will never be a fighting aeroplane. The pilot needs an open cockpit. He has to feel the air to know the speed of the aeroplane.'"
There was no argument but Messerschmitt knew that his arch-enemy, Professor Ernst Heinkel, was his most serious rival for the new fighter contract, and that the Heinkel prototype had an open cockpit.
No wonder that there were so many criticisms and misgivings when 'the flying clown' joined the Luftwaffe in January 1935, and one month later was named as Inspector of Fighters and Dive Bombers. By June of that same year, Udet was chief of the Development Section of the Luftwaffe's Technical Department.
Some said that Udet's quick promotion was Göring's way of limiting the fast-growing power of Milch. The workings of Göring's mind have to remain conjecture but Udet was temperamentally and intellectually unsuited for this vitally important job. Milch, in spite of all the outward gestures of friendship for Udet, despised him and resented his appointment. He did not like having to consult the overmanned and disorganized department that Udet headed, and Milch resolved to get control of it. Eventually, as we shall see, he did.
Udet was an unusual combination of noisy Bohemian wit and sensitive timidity. In the First World War, having returned from air combat without having fired his guns, he said he couldn't be sure whether it was a reluctance to kill or fear of being shot down.
As a flight commander with Jagdstaffel 15, he had once gone alone on a balloon-bursting expedition, only to find himself in a dog-fight with another lone machine. As they looped, dived, and circled, looking for an opening, Udet read the words "Vieux Charles' painted on the enemy fighter. He knew he was fighting Charles Guynemer, the French ace. During the combat Udet's guns jammed. Seeing this, the Frenchman flew over Udet inverted and waved to him before flying away.
It was suggested to Udet that Guynemer's guns had also jammed but Udet rejected this idea emphatically. He insisted that even modern warfare could find a place for chivalry. Such a lonely romantic would find little in common with the hard-eyed ambitious men who were jockeying for power in the huge Air Ministry building in Berlin.
Ernst Udet's critics pointed out that he smoked too much, drank too much, and had the disconcerting habit of scribbling acerbic caricatures of his friends and colleagues.
Yet Udet's love of flying gave him an advantage in the matter of assessing new aircraft designs. He liked to describe himself as the Luftwaffe's chief test pilot, and when he got a chance to see the Bf 109 in flight he was magnanimous enough to change his mind about Messerschmitt's new fighter.
Initially there had been four fighters from which to choose. The Arado was eliminated because it had a fixed undercarriage, and so was the Focke-Wulf prototype (which had a parasol wing supported by struts). Its wheels retracted into the fuselage, and this complicated mechanism was never satisfactory. This left the Heinkel He 112 as the only rival for the Bf 109. German engine development, or rather the lack of it, forced both manufacturers to use a Rolls-Royce Kestrel engine in the prototype.
At first it seemed certain that Heinkel would get the contract. His fighter was based upon the beautiful He 70. It was strongly made, with a top speed only marginally less than its rival. The structure was rather complex, but its wing loading (that is, the weight per square foot of wing area) was calculated to appeal to the biplane protagonists, and so was its open cockpit.
Messerschmitt's fighter was radically new. Its wing loading was so high that it needed 'gadgets' such as slots, and the wings were incredibly thin compared to the Heinkel's. But once in the air the Messerschmitt was supreme: rolling, diving, and excelling in all the tests that the Air Ministry specified. And although the aerodynamics were advanced, the slab-sided, square-tipped wings and very narrow but otherwise orthodox fuselage would give no production problems. It would be superior in cost, in man-hours, and in materials.
Heinkel's readiness to compromise with the aerodynamics of the biplane had resulted in a prototype that was heavy and unresponsive to the controls. Heinkel took his sluggish prototype and changed it, not once but many times, until eventually it was comparable to the Bf 109, but Udet took Professor Heinkel aside and told him that, now the Bf 109 was in full-scale production, there was no place in his building programme for the He 112 fighter. Stick to bombers, he told Heinkel.
The Messerschmitt Bf 109 was Udet's most important contribution to the Luftwaffe. His decision came at a time when the unconventional Udet was at the height of his influence. Hitler described him as the world's greatest pilot. Sourly Milch added, "But he also saw him as one of our greatest technical experts, and here he was very mistaken." But Milch was not yet ready to get into conflict with one of Hitler's favourites and Udet became a member of Milch's group of influential cronies who dined regularly at Horcher's famous restaurant in Berlin.