ASN Wikibase Occurrence # 52186
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| Date: | Wednesday 3 February 1943 |
| Time: | 20:05 |
| Type: |  Messerschmitt Bf 110 F-4 |
| Owner/operator: | 1./NJG 1 Luftwaffe |
| Registration: | 4683 |
| MSN: | G9+DK, rote D |
| Fatalities: | Fatalities: 1 / Occupants: 2 |
| Aircraft damage: | Destroyed |
| Location: | Helweg road at Achterveld; near the Modderbeek brook, Gelderland -
 Netherlands
|
| Phase: | Combat |
| Nature: | Military |
| Departure airport: | Gilze-Rijen airfield |
In the evening of the 3rd of February 1943, Staffelkapitän Hauptmann Reinhold Knacke and Unteroffizier Kurt Bundrock take off from Gilze-Rijen airfield, the Netherlands on a Nachtjagd operation. At approximately 20:00 hours Knacke downs Short Stirling Mk I R9250, which crashes near "De Ganzerd" Ingen, south of Rhenen. At 20:04 hours Knacke downed Short Stirling Mk I R9197. The Stirling with a crew of eight crashes near the edge of the Den Boom estate, close to the railway bridge over the Luntersebeek, near Leusden. During combat with the Stirling the Bf 110 is shot down. Knacke probably tried to bale out only seconds before his aircraft crashed.
Coordinates of the location: 52°07'47.2"N 5°31'34.2"E
Crew:
Flugzeugführer Hauptmann R. Knacke Luftwaffe Ysselsteyn M-4-80
Bordfunker Unteroffizier K. Bundrock Luftwaffe Survived
Memories of Kurt Bundrock:
Hardly had the Halifax crashed and I had made my notes, when I got the next one in sight. This time Knacke wanted to test his new attack tactics and put the machine straight on to the Englishman, so that he would have to turn up on our left.
It was, as far as I could see, another four-engined Halifax. Knacke exchanged from right to left, as he was used to from his daily practice flights. The sheaf of the guns was about good, because the right outer engine was burning. Now we were on the left behind the Halifax, which had passed into violent defense maneuvers during the first attack.
His gunners fired continuously and the 'white mice' - explosion plumes came at us anxiously. Knacke turned from left to right for the second time, threw the machine at right angles to the Englishman. There was nothing of any result, however, but he had to be touched, because the gunner did not shoot anymore. Then it went from right to left again, but we missed completely because the Englishman swayed so wildly and again and again when the opportunity arose, the rear-gunner fired with his machine gun. Captain, would you not rather go according to our tried-and-tested method from below and behind the bottom, I asked, because I had seen that the fire in the right engine had ceased and the Halifax had not sustained any damage. Knacke himself was furious because we had so many problems ourselves. I'll try it one more time, he said. So again from the left over to the right, but we missed again. Now he flew under the Halifax to the cross slope to the left and then turned from the bottom left until the 50 attack. The light trail penetrated into the left wing between the hull and the left inner engine which was also hit.
After that Knacke pulled the machine, came up from behind Halifax and at the same time the shots of the machine gunner struck our Messerschmitt. I saw the light trail from the front of the pilot and behind it to me. Right in front of me a bright flash and fire. A shot had to hit the circulation line between the right and the inserter wing tank. The burning machine was blowing up all the way to me. In the cabin I heard Knacke calling, it sounded like a raus, out or aussteigen, jumping but it could also have been a kind of rumbling. The emergency handle of the cockpit to my left was already in flames. I turned over the seat in a flash, then I looked into the brightly lit cabin and saw the rear emergency grip on the wire dangling. This was therefore already defective. In a part of a second I thought of that situation, which would occur when the oxygen bottles exploded. I reached now, standing in the rear part, with the right arm through the flames to the front emergency grip. He was still there where he needed to sit, I pulled him out, and crying through the suction, the cockpit dome flew up.
The flames struck my face.
I put my feet on the bottom and was also sucked straight out of the burning cabin by the enormous suction power. I bumped into something with the right-hand fur boot, but he remained seated, and then I fell softly and continually in the cold night. The burning Messerschmitt 110 was already far away at that moment, but the sparks danced around me. I saw with dismay that I was on fire somewhere. Around my neck, my scarf was burning too. At the same time I noticed that I did not panic and did everything deliberately, notwithstanding the mortal fears. On my jacket and fur collar also fireplaces, which were knocked and expressed by me, always caused a spark of rain. During my airborne invasion, I kept looking around to see if there were still glowing spots. Finally, I really could not discover anything anymore. What it looked like on my back and whether my parachute had also been given something or that there were still fires, that could develop into fierce flames because of the airflow, I did not know it and could only hope. Then I pulled on my parachute cord and closed my legs with the injury I had sustained in my first emergency jump. When the parachute unfolded I experienced a big jerk and I stretched my legs again. Now I looked anxiously around me, whether it would burn behind or above me ... fortunately nothing. I thanked God and took a deep breath. Identical to my first emergency jump, I saw both planes crashing in succession: it was already quite far away. Did Knacke come out? It actually only burned in my part of the cabin.
But when the Tommy shot, I clearly saw the light trail coming at him first, I thought. By the way, it was his 44th victory. Where will I end up this time, I thought again. According to my calculation, it had to be somewhere in the Netherlands. We had flown to the North, so I excluded the Zuiderzee (IJsselmeer). So I would see. Had I actually been shot? As the parachute fluctuated slightly I touched myself from top to bottom. Nothing! Probably such a thing is usually not immediately noticed by the tensions. I thought of my previous injury, which I had just discovered when my boot was full of blood.
The night was somewhat clear and gradually I got cold. I had not noticed anything of the cold before. The earth came closer. I could already distinguish dark and lighter places, but I could not perceive what it was. Then all of a sudden ... I saw woods and fields so I put my arms in front of my face and put my legs in squats. I was taken care of somewhere and landed on the floor as if I had slipped down stairs. A large birch had caught my parachute and had softly bent to the earth. A better landing could not be desired. I had not even fallen, but suddenly I was on mother earth again. Half a meter in front of me I saw a high barbed wire barrier.
Imagine if I had ended up with that. What a luck I had. By the way, my luck had been the last hour! I opened the lock of my parachute belt, which immediately swished up with the erecting birch. Then I once again touched my limbs, but everything turned out to be in order. Now I looked around and discovered a weak light about 100 meters to my left. So I walked over there. It was a house. I had to climb over a low fence and stood in the garden. First I walked around the house and took out my pistol as a precaution. The door was two-part, like a barn door, but it was a house, a single-family home. Now I saw even more houses nearby, so it had to be a village. I knocked. After I knocked twice and called 'Hello' the upper part of the door was opened, behind it I saw an illuminated hall and at the door a woman was standing. When she saw me in the light she stepped back in shock. I put my gun away and said: "Liebe Frau, ich bin ein deutscher Flieger, haben Sie keine Angst" "But she was afraid, that was obvious." Do you have a phone? "I asked, she just nodded and still further back when I opened the door completely and entered. On the right was a large mirror on the wall and I also saw the telephone. I looked in the mirror and was shocked by myself. Now it became clear to me why this woman looked so anxious. My God, what did I look like. The hair tangled and partly burned, the face smeared black, the scarf a dark blue, I still see him, hung largely outside my kite jacket full of big fire holes.
The jacket, which used to be rather light, about a lambskin coat, captured in Bulgaria, was full of black burn holes, totally smeared and full of soot. "May I wash myself a little bit?" I asked this woman, who had recovered from the fright now, when she saw how I was startled by myself, and followed her to the bathroom. After I had heard what the place was called, I then called the Ortskommandanturen and requested to come and get me. When I left the house and thanked the woman, I walked past the now open kitchen door and got slightly shocked by what I saw there. In the kitchen were four mentally retarded, glassy, stupid, meaningless eyes, but with slightly grinning faces on low meager stools. With little movement, their arms and hands do something of labor, peas, caps or something. I did not expect this, so this woman was probably a nurse who took care of these feeble women in this house. On the 'Ortskommandantur', it was a small place in the middle of the Netherlands where I ended up, only a paymaster and the driver who had picked me up were present. 'What do you have there around your neck?', the paymaster asked. I felt my throat microphone and had to laugh, but that gave me some blood. My aviator hat was gone, but the thongs with throat microphones had closed my neck, without me noticing it. More than half an hour I called the Division, the Squadron, the group and a mayor of a Dutch municipality where, in the vicinity of his village, a crashed German machine was reported. One dead would lie at some distance next to it. It could be Knacke.
Major Streib asked me to identify the dead. I drove the paymaster and the driver in a private car to the village, where the mayor was waiting for us. During the ride I felt miserable, because the dead man on the place of the plane crashed was probably my pilot, Captain Knacke. The Dutch mayor greeted us and asked us to follow him. We continued on foot through the village along country roads and fields that were wet and muddy.
It started to drizzle and it was still quite dark. Never again will I be able to forget that walk across the fields. For me, from an up and down light of the flashlight of our Dutch companion. It seemed to me as if I were walking in a cemetery to attend the funeral of my captain.
The damp black earth clung to my boots. The night was uncomfortably cold and I shuddered. My head was dull, I always thought of Captain Knacke again.
Then we finally saw the glow and the smoldering remnants of the Messerschmitt 1 1 0. Unimaginably bizarre and yet majestically some sharp-edged wing remnants protested against the still dark horizon. A large white plain suddenly lay before us.
When we came a few steps closer, it turned out to be an open parachute. At the same time, the mayor stopped and shone with his flashlight the figure on the black earth.
IT WAS MY PROPRIETOR.
Slightly curved, he lay there with his winter hat and face pressed into the earth. I was nailed to the ground for a few moments, and I was unable to move, I just stared at the feet of my feet with tear-stained eyes. A few moments later I stooped and moved the body to turn it around. At that time I only felt a formless soft mass under the combination. I could only identify him with his 'Ritterkreuze' which I took in my hand with unimaginable sadness. The face was unrecognizable, it looked like a 'headshot' but I could not determine it with certainty. We covered him with his parachute and stood still for a moment at the place where he had lost his life. With him I had entered into a kite wedding with all the ups and downs and experiences of war. Less than an hour ago, he had been a possessed 'hunter', who always drove back on his booty for the dead ... now he was killed too ... this wretched war. I turned around and slowly went back to reality without looking back. When I arrived at the car, I thanked that nice mayor and asked the officer to make sure that a soldier would guard the body of Knacke.
Sources:
Nachtjagd Combat Archive 1943 part one
https://verliesregister.studiegroepluchtoorlog.nl/rs.php?aircraft=&sglo=T2037&date=&location=&pn=&unit=&name=&cemetry=&airforce=&target=&area=&airfield=
Images:
This is the meadow the Bf 110 F-4 crashed in. The red dot is the approximate location, it could be anywhere along the brook, this is the northern border of the meadow.
Revision history:
| Date/time | Contributor | Updates |
|---|---|---|
| 17-Dec-2008 11:45 | ASN archive | Added |
| 12-Mar-2012 10:32 | Peter Leusden | Updated [Total fatalities, Total occupants, Other fatalities, Location, Phase, Narrative] |
| 01-Feb-2018 22:41 | TigerTimon | Updated [Aircraft type, Operator, Location, Departure airport, Source, Narrative] |
| 01-Feb-2018 23:01 | TigerTimon | Updated [Time, Location] |
| 01-Feb-2018 23:02 | TigerTimon | Updated [Location] |
| 01-Feb-2018 23:03 | TigerTimon | Updated [Location] |
| 08-Feb-2018 18:56 | TigerTimon | Updated [Departure airport, Narrative, Photo, ] |
| 27-Jun-2018 15:30 | TigerTimon | Updated [Time, Cn, Other fatalities, Location, Source, Narrative] |
| 26-Sep-2018 06:27 | TigerTimon | Updated [Location] |
| 30-Oct-2018 07:43 | TigerTimon | Updated [Cn, Narrative] |
| 14-Dec-2019 20:23 | Nepa | Updated [Operator, Operator] |
| 19-Mar-2022 19:03 | TigerTimon | Updated [Narrative] |
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