The political climate in China was worsening however, and it wasn't long before things started getting bad for foreigners. One morning while making his way to town, Dr. Hartmann found the heads of several of his English friends stuck on fence posts along the side of the road. As one might imagine, his wife and kids were quickly packed up, sent back to Germany, and relocated to Stuttgart where they lived until the outbreak of the war.

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		Erich (sitting) with his Jungvolk comrades
	Erich's parents Dr. Alfred Hartmann & Elisabeth Machtholf

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Erich knew early on that he wanted to fly and like many boys of the period, he read everything he could about the glory days of the Aces in the Great War and this fueled his desire to follow in their footsteps. Mrs. Hartmann, an avid flyer, loved to take her children flying and teach them things. She taught him to fly gliders first and by 14 he had his glider pilot’s license. He flew every chance he could and by the time he was 15 he was a glider instructor in his Hitler Youth Glider Club. When Erich was 17 he met his future wife "Ushi" (Ursula) who was 2 years his junior. He knew right away that she was the one for him but their parents were none too thrilled. They would eventually get married during the war (with Barkhorn, Batz and Krupi as witnesses) but a proper church wedding would have to wait many years. Ursula Paetsch

The Luftwaffe

Hartmann started military flight training in East Prussia, October 1940. This lasted until January 1942 when he went to Zerbst-Anhalt. He graduated as a leutnant in March of 1942. Then it was off to Advanced Aerial Gunnery School where he got into a little trouble. "I was showing off, buzzing the airfield and was sentenced to house arrest. Ironically my roommate flew the same aircraft I had been in and it developed a technical problem, and he was killed in the crash. That was ironic."
Assigned to JG-52 in Russia, Hartmann and some other pilots were to deliver Stukas to Mariopol on their way. When he started his plane however, he realized it had no brakes and that it reacted differently than a Messerschmitt 109. His Stuka ended up in the Operations Shack and another pilot flipped his over onto its nose. The brass figuring it would be safer, sent them in a JU-52 instead. Arriving at JG-52 he met Dieter Hrabak, a man who would become, and remain, a good friend for life.
"Dieter was a very understanding yet disciplined commander, and his experience showed. He taught us how not just to fly and fight, but how to work as a team and stay alive. That was his greatest gift. He was very open to discussing his own mistakes, and how he learned from them, hoping we would learn also. Hrabak assigned me to 7/III/JG-52 under Major Hubertus von Bonin, an old eagle from the Spanish Civil War and Battle of Britain. We learned a lot from him also."
His first wingman was Feldwebel Eduard ‘Paule’ Rossmann who took him under his wing. Rossmann was only a non-commissioned officer but he was a seasoned combat veteran and rank meant little over combat experience. One reason they were so successful no doubt.
"My first mission was on 14 October 1942. Rossmann and I were in our flight, and Rossmann radioed that he spotted ten enemy aircraft below us. We were at 12,000 feet and the enemy was far below us. I could see nothing but followed Rossmann down, then we came on them. I knew that I had to get my first kill, so I went full throttle and left Rossmann to shoot at a plane. My shots missed and I almost collided into him and had to pull up. Suddenly I was surrounded by the Soviets and I headed for low cloud cover to escape. All along kept talking to me, and I had a low fuel warning. Then the engine went dead and I bellied in, destroying my fighter. I knew I was in trouble. I had violated every commandment a fighter pilot lives by, and I expected to be thrown out. I was sentenced by von Bonin to three days of working with the ground crews. It gave me time to think about what I had done. What I learned from Rossmann and later Krupinski I later taught to new pilots when I became a leader." Twenty two days later, on his 19th combat mission, he would get his first kill.
"That was a day I will never forget, 5 November 1942, a Shturmovik IL-2, which was the toughest aircraft to bring down because of the heavy armor plate. You had to shoot out the oil cooler underneath, otherwise it would not go down. That was also the day of my second forced landing since I had flown into the debris of my kill. I learned two things that day; get in close and shoot and break away immediately after scoring the kill. The next kill came in February the following year. This was when Krupinski came to Taman and was my new squadron leader. The day he arrived he came in, introduced himself, demanded a plane, went up, was shot down, and brought back by car. He then took another, scored two kills and returned, then wanted dinner. The whole event was treated as casually as a card game." The first time they actually met was quite different however: "I was being addressed by my new Wing Commander (Hrabak) when a fighter came in smoking, and suddenly landed, flipped over and exploded. We knew the pilot was dead. One of the men said that ‘it is Krupinski’, and out of the blinding smoke this man walked out of the wreckage with a singed uniform, but no other damage. He was smiling and complained about the flak over the Caucasus, but without any real surprise on his face. This was my first meeting with “The Count”."

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Gunther Rall soon replaced von Bonin as Gruppenkommandeur and in August 1943 he made Hartmann Kommandeur of the 9th Squadron which had been Herman Graf's command. He often flew as Krupinski's wingman but their partnership was a little uneasy at first. They both had strengths and weaknesses and eventually, through trial and error, they found that they worked well together. "Besides," said Hartmann, "I had to make sure that he came home due to his many girlfriends always waiting on him to come down. I won the Iron Cross 2nd Class while flying with ‘Krupi’. The one thing I learned from him was that the worst thing to do was to lose a wingman. Kills were less important than survival. I only lost one wingman, Gunther Capito, a former bomber pilot, but this was due to his inexperience with fighters, but he survived."

In August '43 the Russians were attacking in the area and Dieter Hrabak gave the orders to support Hans Rudel and his Stukas in a counter attack. Then the situation changed. The Russians began bombing German ground positions in support of their offensive and Hartmann with his flight of 8 fighters was sent to attack them. About 40 Yaks and Laggs were supporting another 40 or so Sturmoviks that were busy striking ground targets. Hartmann shot down 2 before his plane was hit by "something" and he was forced to make an emergency landing. As Soviet ground troops approached the plane, Hartmann faked that he was injured. The Soviet soldiers took him to their HQ and his acting won over the doctor there as well. They put him on a stretcher and packed him into the back of a captured German truck. Waiting for the opportune moment, Hartmann jumped the single guard just as Stukas began an attack. Then he bailed out the back and ran like hell. He found a large field of giant sunflowers and tried to lose the pursuing soldiers who were all the while firing wildly in his direction. He made it to a small village occupied by Russians and decided to to go back where he had been and wait for nightfall.
Meanwhile, back at base, Hartmann's best friend and Crew Chief Heinz "Bimmel" Mertens, wasn't about to let his Pal "Bubi" fall into the hands of the enemy! He grabbed a rifle and some water and went to find his friend. "my closest relationship was with Heinz Mertens, my crew chief. You rely on your wing men to cover you in the air, and your team mates in aerial battle, but the man who keeps your machine flying and safe is the most important man you know. We became best of friends, and none of my success would have been possible if not for Mertens."
Hartmann reached his spot and took a nap. When he awoke, he headed west. He passed a patrol of Russian soldiers and decided to follow them. Soon they moved over a small hill and a firefight erupted. Moments later the Russians came running back over the rise and Erich knew he was close to safety ... or so he thought. As he approached the German position the sentry challenged him and quickly shot a hole in his pants. Erich was understandably upset but was told later that a group of Russian soldiers had previously entered their perimeter speaking fluent German and claiming to be escaped POW's. They had pulled out Tommy guns and killed some men before being killed themselves.
After being interrogated (his ID had been taken by his captors) he was told to prepare for contact. Just then, another group of Russians came stumbling towards their trenches. When they came within 20 meters the leutnant gave the order to fire. They were all killed (Maybe their Moms forgot to warn 'em about drinking on the front lines). Soon the Infantry commander contacted Hrabak, confirmed that Hartmann was who he said he was, and sent him back to his base by car. He was met by Krupinski who had just been released from the hospital. That's when he found out that "Bimmel" had taken off with a rifle to find him. The next day Mertens came back and they had themselves one hell of a birthday party. What's a "birthday party"? "That is a party that is thrown in honor of a pilot who survived a situation that should have killed him. We had a lot of those."

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Getting The Oak Leaves From Hitler

March 1944. Erich Hartmann, Gerd Barkhorn, Walter Krupinski and Johannes Wiese were summoned to Berchtesgaden, Barkhorn to get his Swords, the other three to get their Oak Leaves. On the way, the four of them were drinking cognac and champagne on stomachs that hadn’t seen food in two days. Krupinski later said that they were "holding each other up" when they got there and with all the snow that was on the ground at that altitude, this group of the Luftwaffe's finest was hardly able to stand. The first person they saw when they got off the train was Hitler's Luftwaffe adjutant, Major von Below who was rather shocked at their condition. After all, they were supposed to meet the Fuhrer in just a couple of hours.
When they arrived at Berchtesgaden Hartmann, who was still “feeling no pain” and was having some vision problems, couldn’t find his hat, “…so I took a hat on a stand and put it on, and it was too large. I knew it was not mine at that time. Below became upset and told me it was Hitler’s, and to put it back. Everyone was laughing about it except Below. I made some joke about Hitler having a big head, and that it must 'go with the job,’ which created even more laughter."

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When Hartmann finally met Hitler, “I found him a little disappointing, although very interested in the war at the front and extremely well informed on events as I knew them. However, he had a tendency to drone on about minor things that I found boring. I found him interesting yet not that imposing. I also found him lacking in sufficient knowledge about the air war in the east. He was more concerned with the Western Front’s air war and the bombing of cities. Of course the Eastern Front ground war was his area of most interest. This was evident. Hitler listened to the men from the Western Front, and assured them that weapons and fighter production were increasing, and history proved this to be correct. Then he went into the U-boat war, how we were going to decidedly destroy maritime commerce, and all of that. I found him an isolated and disturbed man.”

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The Swords

In June 1944, after returning from a successful mission, Hartmann was told he had been awarded the “Swords.” On 3 August he was back in Germany to see Hitler again. This was after the bomb plot to kill him and according to Erich, “Hitler was not the same man. His right arm was shaking, and he looked exhausted. He had to turn to his left ear to hear anyone speak because he was deaf in the other one from the blast. Hitler discussed the cowardly act to kill him, and attacked the quality of his generals, with a few exceptions. He also stated that God had spared his life so that he may deliver Germany from destruction, and that the Western Allies would be thrown back inevitably. I was very surprised at all of this. I wanted to leave and see my Ushi, and I did.”

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back again, this time for diamonds (Erich 2nd from left)
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The Diamonds

At 22, Hartmann was probably the youngest person ever to win the Diamonds. The night before he left to receive them, Dieter Hrabek & crew threw Bubi a wild party and true to style, the Blonde Knight of Germany could hardly stand up the next day.
“It sounds like we were all alcoholics, but this was not the case. We lived and played hard. You never knew what the next day would bring.”
He flew his 109 to Insterburg and JG-52 gave him an escort. When he arrived the world had changed. Hitler had begun the assassination trials and everyone was under suspicion.
“You had to enter three areas of security, and no one was allowed to carry a weapon into the last section. I told Hitler’s SS guard to tell the Fuehrer that I would not receive the Diamonds if I were not trusted to carry my Walther pistol. The guy looked like I had just married his mother. He went to speak with von Below, who was a Colonel then, and Below came out and said it was all right. I hung my cap and pistol belt on the stand and Hitler came to me, and said, “I wish we had more like you and Rudel,” and he gave me the Diamonds, which were encrusted upon another set of Oak Leaves and Swords. We had coffee and lunch, and he confided in me, saying ‘militarily the war is lost,’ and that I must already know this, and that if we waited the Western Allies and Soviets would be at war with each other. He also spoke about the partisan problem and he asked me of my experience. Hitler asked me my opinion of the tactics used in fighting the American and British bombers. Since I did not have a lot of experience with this, I simply stated what I thought was a fact. Goring’s orders to combat them and the method employed was in error. I also informed him of the deficiencies in pilot training; too many minimally trained men were simply throwing their lives away. He also spoke about the new weapons and tactics, and then we parted. That was the last time I saw him, 25 August 1944. I flew back to the unit, where an order for ten days leave waited. I also had to report to Galland, where we discussed the Me-262 situation. I went back to marry my Ushi, that was all that mattered to me.”

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Ushi & Bubi on their wedding day          Gerd Barkhorn lookin' smooth at the wedding

Returning To The Front

The conditions for the pilots in Russia were bad to say the least, and in winter they were a nightmare. “We seldom had hard shelter, living in tents. The lice were the worst, and there was little you could do but hold your clothes to a fire and listen to them pop. We had DDT and bathed when we could. Illness, especially pneumonia and trench foot were bad, especially among the ground crews. Food was always a concern, especially later in the war, and fuel restrictions made every mission count. We always flew from grass strips and we were often bombed. These strips were easy to repair, although the terrain made every take off and landing an adventure. Sometimes fighters would snap their landing gear, or just dig in and topple over. Maintenance was another nightmare, as supplies and parts were difficult to get to, especially when we were moving around all the time. Despite these problems we were very successful in the Crimea through 1943-44.”
JG-52, like many Luftwaffe units, flew with foreign forces of numerous nationalities. Hartmann flew with a Royal Hungarian unit, Croats and Romanians. It was with the later that he would face American P-51s. “We were flying in Russia against twenty to one. In Romania it was thirty to one.” During the evacuation of the Crimea ...”Well, I would not call it an evacuation, but a full retreat. We had to move, and I discovered that when the radio, armor plate and rear wall were removed, you could stack four men in the tail, but three was about the most I would try. We managed to save many of our precious ground crew from capture using this method.”

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No Room For Nazis

It is widely publicized, that the War in the East was an exceptionally ruthless one. Still, the Luftwaffe, for the most part (and NOT by all accounts), attempted to maintain some level of chivalry. When asked what the soviet prisoners were like, if there was any open racism shown by his men towards them he responded: ”Not at all. In fact I would say that in our group there were the majority who found all the National Socialist idiocy a little sickening. Hrabak made it a point to explain to the new young pilots that if they thought they were fighting for National Socialism and the Fuhrer they needed to transfer to the Waffen SS or something. He had no time for political types. He was fighting a war against a superb enemy, not holding a political rally. I think this approach damaged Hrabak in the eyes of Goring and others, but he was a real man and did not care about anything but his men. Hannes Trautloft was the same way, as was Galland. All the greats with a few exceptions were like that. We even had a Russian prisoner show us how to start our engines in the sub-zero cold by mixing gasoline into the oil crankcase. This was unheard of to us and we were sure we would lose a fighter in the explosion. It worked, because the fuel thinned out the congealed oil, and evaporated as the starter engaged. It was wonderful. Another guy showed us how to start a fire under the cowling and start the engine, another helpful hint. This same guy showed us how to keep the weapons firing by dipping them in boiling water removing the lubricants which froze the mechanisms shut. Without the oils they worked fine. I felt sad for these men, who hated no one and were forced to fight a war they would rather have avoided.
"Once I was in a duel with a Red Banner flown Yak-9, and this guy was good, and absolutely insane. He tried and tried to get in behind me, and every time he went to open fire I would jerk out of the way of his rounds. Then he pulled up and rolled, and we approached each other head on, firing, with no hits either way. This happened two times. Finally I rolled into a negative G dive, out of his line of sight, and rolled out to chase him at full throttle. I came in from below in a shallow climb and flamed him. The pilot bailed out and was later captured. I met and spoke with this man, a captain, who was a likeable guy. We gave him some food and allowed him to roam the base after having his word that he would not escape. He was happy to be alive, but he was very confused, since his superiors told him that Soviet pilots would be shot immediately upon capture. This guy had just had one of the best meals of the war and had made new friends. I like to think that people like that went back home and told their countrymen the truth about us, not the propaganda that erupted after the war, although there were some terrible things that happened, no doubt."

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More Memorable Moments

"Once I attacked a flight of four IL-2s and shot one up. All four tried to roll out in formation at low altitude, and all four crashed into the ground, unable to recover since their bomb loads reduced their maneuverability. Those were the easiest four kills I ever had.

However, I remember the time I saw over 20,000 dead Germans littering a valley where the Soviet tanks and Cossacks had attacked a trapped unit, and that sight, even from the air was perhaps the most memorable of my life. I can close my eyes and see this even now. Such a tragedy! I remember that I cried as I flew low over the scene; I could not believe my eyes.

Another time was in May 1944 near Jassy, my wingman Blessin and I were jumped by fighters, he broke right and the enemy followed him down. I rolled and followed the enemy fighter down to the deck. I radioed to my wingman to pull up and slip right in a shallow turn so I could get a good shot. I told him to look back, and see what happens when you do not watch your tail, and I fired. The fighter blew apart and fell like confetti.

However, separate from Krupinski’s crash the day I met him, one event is clear and comical. My wingman on many missions was Carl Junger. He came in for a landing and a Polish farmer with horse cart crossed his path. He crashed into it, killing the horse and the fighter was nothing but twisted wreckage. We all saw it and began thinking about the funeral, when suddenly the debris moved and he climbed out without a scratch, still wearing his sunglasses. He was ready to go up again. Amazing!"

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Encounter American Pilots

"Then there was the American Mustangs that we both dreaded and anticipated meeting. We knew that they were a much better aircraft than ours; newer and faster, and with a great range. On 23 June 1944. In the defense of Ploesti, Bucharest, and Hungary when the bombers were coming in with heavy fighter escort and “Karaya 1” was commander of I/JG52. B-17s were attacking the railroad junction, and we were formed up. We did not see the Mustangs at first and prepared to attack the bombers. Suddenly four of them flew across us and below, so I gave the order to attack the fighters. I closed in on one and fired, his fighter coming apart and some pieces hit my wings, and I immediately found myself behind another and I fired, and he flipped in. My second flight shot down the other two fighters. But then we saw others and again attacked. I shot down another and saw that the leader still had his drop tanks, which limited his ability to turn. I was very relieved that this pilot was able to successfully bail out. I was out of ammunition after the fight. But this success was not to be repeated, because the Americans learned and they were not to be ambushed again. They protected the bombers very well, and we were never able to get close enough to do any damage. I did have the opportunity to engage the Mustangs again when a flight was being pursued from the rear and I tried to warn them on the radio, but they could not hear. I dived down and closed on a P-51 that was shooting up a 109, and I blew him up. I half rolled and recovered to fire on another of the three remaining enemy planes and flamed him as well. As soon as that happened I was warned that I had several on my tail so I headed for the deck, a swarm of eight Americans behind me. That is a very uncomfortable feeling I can tell you! I made jerking turns left and right as they fired, but they fired from too far away to be effective. I was headed for the base so the defensive guns would help me, but I ran out of fuel and had to bail out. I was certain that this one pilot was lining me up for a strafe, but he banked away and looked at me, waving. I landed four miles from the base; I almost made it. That day we lost half our aircraft; we were too outnumbered and many of the young pilots were inexperienced."

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USAAF VS VVS

352? Who's keepin' your score?

"Goring could not believe the staggering kills being recorded from 1941 on. I even had a man in my unit, someone you also know, Fritz Oblesser, who questioned my kills. I asked Rall to have him transferred from the 8th Squadron to be my wingman for a while. Oblesser became a believer and signed off on some kills as a witness, and we became friends after that."
  Goring wasn't the only one who didn’t believe the claims coming out of Russia. The scores reported were so high, a very strict system was put into place to verify a claim. Not only were pilots required to sign off on their wingmate's kills but independent ground confirmation was needed as well. When a pilot shot down a plane he would call out over the radio, "Horrido." At this point pilots or ground crew in the area would look about and see if they saw the event. Most often on the eastern front, there were many on hand to see the victim smash into the ground, and thereby make the kill "official."
A few other things deserve to be mentioned here too...
Shared kills were not individually counted by the pilots involved, but they did count toward the squadron's score as a whole. You won't see a score of 50.5, for example, for a German Ace.
And, points were awarded depending on the number of engines a plane had that was destroyed. 1 point for a single engine, 2 for a twin, 4 for a four-engined bomber and so on. These points were added up and when a pilot achieved a certain number of points he was awarded a medal (the points required for a given medal was much higher on the eastern front than it was on the western front).
These points are in no way related to a pilot's total score of victories. Bringing down a 4-engined bomber may have gotten a pilot 4 points, but it only got him 1 victory.
So make no mistake, Erich Hartmann's score of 352 does not refer to engines but 352 individual planes shot down.

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Know Your Enemy

"I knew that if an enemy pilot started firing early, well outside the maximum effective range of his guns then he was an easy kill. But, if a pilot closed in and held his fire, and seemed to be watching the situation, then you knew that an experienced pilot was on you. Also, I developed different tactics for various conditions, such as always turning into the guns of an approaching enemy, or rolling into a negative G dive forcing him to follow or break off, then rolling out and sometimes reducing air speed to allow him to over commit. That was when you took advantage of his failing."

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Where Were You With The 262 ?

I did qualify in the Me-262, but my heart and friends were in JG-52, and I felt that was where I belonged. Unit loyalty to me was important. Plus I had many new pilots who needed guidance and instruction. They were getting younger all the time and had fewer and fewer hours of flight instruction before they were thrown into battle. I was needed and that was where I stayed. Rall, Krupinski, Steinhoff and others were transferred to the Reich Defense, where they ended their war. I was torn between these facts, but I felt that I made the right decision at the time. In later years I realized that my life would have been very different if I had stayed with JV-44.

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Over & Out Of Control

On 8 May 1945 I took off at around 0800 hours from my field in Czechoslovakia going to Bruenn. My wingman and I saw eight Yaks below us. I shot one down and that was my last victory. I decided not to attack the others once I saw that there were twelve Mustangs on the scene above me. My wingman and I headed for the deck where the smoke of the bombing could hide us. We pulled through the smoke and saw once again the two allies fighting each other above us. Incredible! Well we landed at the field and were told that the war was over. I must say that during the war I never disobeyed an order, but when General Seidemann ordered me and Graf to fly to the British sector and surrender to avoid the Russians, with the rest of the wing to surrender to the Soviets. I could not leave my men. That would have been bad leadership. There was a large bounty on my head, much like Rudel. I was well known and everyone knew that Stalin would like to get me. I remember Graf telling me that, as Diamonds winners the Soviets would probably execute us if they got us. I had no doubt he was right at the time. Graf also mentioned the women, children and ground personnel who would have no one to help them; they would be at the mercy of the Red Army, and we all knew what that meant. Well, we destroyed the aircraft and all munitions, everything. I sat in my fighter and fired the guns into the woods where all the fuel had been dropped, and then jumped out. We destroyed twenty-five perfectly good fighters. They would be nice to have in museums now.
I was marching with my unit through Czechoslovakia when we found to the Americans. Graf, Grasser and I surrendered to the 90th Infantry Division, and we were placed in a barbed wire camp. The conditions were terrible. Many men decided to escape, and some were assisted by the guards. We went eight days without any food, and then were told we were to be moved. All of us, even women and children were taken to an open field. The trucks stopped and there were Soviet troops there waiting for us.
The Russians then separated the women and girls from the men, and the most horrible things happened, which you know and I cannot say here. We saw this; the Americans saw this, and we could do nothing to stop it. Men who fought like lions cried like babies at the sight of complete strangers being raped repeatedly. A couple of girls managed to run to a truck and the Americans pulled them in, but the Russians, most were drunk pointed their guns at the allies and fired a few shots. Then the truck drivers decided to drive away quickly. Some women were shot after the rapes. Others were not so lucky. I remember a twelve year old girl whose mother had been raped and shot being raped by several soldiers. She died from these acts soon afterward. Then more Russians came, and it began all over again and lasted through the night. During the night, entire families committed suicide with men killing their wives and daughters, then themselves. I still cannot believe these things as I speak now. I know many will never believe this story, but it is true. Soon a Russian general came and issued orders for all of this to stop. He was serious, because some of the Russians who did not stay away and came to rape were hanged on the spot by their own men.

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Gulag - The High Cost Of Good Leadership

“Since I was somewhat famous, or infamous, depending upon your perspective and the Soviets were very interested in making an example of me. I was never badly beaten and tortured, but I was starved and threatened for several years. The interrogations were the worst. I know that you have interviewed several Germans who experienced the same thing. The stories are pretty much the same, so I won’t go into details. The first thing they did was give us physical exams to determine how fit we were for hard labor. Then they put us on a train which was diverted from Vienna to the Carpathians in Romania. We were placed in another wired prison with Romanian Communist guards. This lasted a week and then we boarded another train. There was no room in these small train cars, so not all could sit, so we took turns. Finally we arrived near Kirov and disembarked in a swamp. This was our home for a while. Of the 1,500 POWs who were dropped at this place about 200 lived through the first winter. This I know from some who survived. They were not fed, just worked to death. I was sent to Gryazovets where Assi Hahn was already. He had been a POW since 1943.
I was in several camps, Shakhty, Novocherkassk, where they kept me in solitary confinement, and Diaterka. I had gone on a hunger strike to protest the slave labor conditions and the fact that the Soviets were simply working men to death out of spite. I was ironically placed in a camp at Kuteynikovo where my squadron had been based in 1943.
At Shakhty, the others and I refused to work, invoking the Geneva Convention. They placed me back in solitary. This was a work camp for mining and many men were tired of it, and I think my being gone started the problem. Within a few days the POWs jumped the guards, cornered the camp commandant and freed me. It was quite exciting. Then they sent me to the other camps, and at Diaterka there were 4,000 men there. At Diaterka, there was a high fence, then a dead zone with a walkway for guards and dogs, then another fence with watch towers with more guards and machine guns. There were long rows of barracks which were not insulated against the cold, and the winters were quite cold I can tell you. Each barrack held between 200 and 400 prisoners depending on its size, and there were rows of wooden bunks in tiers of three to four. The camp was divided into maximum and minimum security sections, with us being in the most secure section. The ultra maximum security section housed elite members of the Third Reich and special Soviet political prisoners, which was another section even within our part within its own wired enclosure. This was where Hitler’s SS adjutant Otto Gunsche and Count von der Schulenburg were held, among others. I stayed there until 1954 when I was sent back to Novocherkassk. This was my last camp.”
During his captivity, “they offered me the opportunity to return home if I worked as an agent for them, which was out of the question. They did not like this either. I was assigned kitchen duties as an inducement to become a converted Communist. I think that if they could get us high ranking and highly decorated officers to convert their job would be made much easier. They converted Graf, which was a shame, but he did not embrace Communism. He looked at it as a pragmatist it was either the western way or Soviet way, and he was already there. They did release him in 1950, but I would not be so lucky. Those of us who resisted were punished much longer. They wanted me as an informer and even gave me a list of names of officers they wanted information on. They promised me early release if I did this. I refused. They placed me in solitary a few times, for a long time. I thought of my Ushi. She kept me going, and the thought of my family waiting for me. They threatened to kill my wife and son, or forcibly bring them to Russia, and they spoke about doing terrible things. All of this was to break you down. We were allowed only twenty-five words on a post card to send out, sometimes a lot less and this was not often. The letters I smuggled out with returning POWs provided the information they needed. I received about fifty letters from Ushi in the ten and a half years, but she wrote over 400. Getting a letter was the greatest morale boost you could imagine. Red Cross packages seldom arrived. Those that did were often rifled through and delayed so long the food contents were worthless. The few that arrived “well” were very helpful, especially when it came to trading with the local civilians. We made many friends with the local peasants, and they had no ill will towards us, nor we them. “

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What's It Take To Do 10 Years In Siberia ?

Discipline; “we never lost our military bearing and our rigid system and mutual respect for our own authority maintained us. We had the rank structure and presence of mind to form our own leadership committees. Even though we wore no rank everyone understood their place and all worked within the system. That was our strength, as well as many of us having our faith in God. I thought of my faith and my Ushi, and that got me through. Many men found it difficult when word would come that their wives had divorced them, or that a relative, such as a parent had died. My son Peter died while I was a POW but I only learned of this much later, a year or more, as with my father. I learned more when I was repatriated in 1955 along with Hans Baur, Ferdinand Schoerner, Hajo Herrmann, Herman Graf, Johannes Wiese, and several others. Assi Hahn was released earlier than the rest of us, as was Walter Wolfram who had been badly wounded before our capture. Wolfram smuggled a private letter to Usch for me, which let her know I was still alive.
Back in Czechoslovakia, Graf and I had agreed never to surrender our Diamonds to the Soviets. My originals were with Ushi, and a copy was taken by an American, and another copy I had also. I threw them away, although they were worthless, rather than surrender them, Graf had given his, and they were on the table of the NKVD officer when I was called in. He wanted mine also. He did not get them. They also wanted detailed information on the Me-262, which they had several captured machines they wanted to evaluate. I did not help them. ”

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Homecoming

“Chancellor Konrad Adenauer was very crucial in this. My mother had written Stalin and Molotov on my behalf without any response. She wrote to Adenauer and he replied personally that he was working on the problem. The Soviets wanted a trade agreement with the west, especially West Germany, and part of this deal was the release of all the POWs. I knew something was going on when we were allowed to go to the cinema and were issued new clothes, suits of a kind, and not prison issue. We boarded a bus to Rostov where we boarded a train in October 1955. Other trains would follow with the last coming in December. As soon as the train stopped at Herleshausen I was able to send a telegram to my Ushi. I learned that my son Peter Erich and father had died while I was in prison, and that was a hard thing for me, and I will say no more. But my mother and lovely Ushi were there waiting for me. They never gave up hope, and I think that my belief in their strength was what got me through the most terrible torture or starvation. Whatever the NKVD did to me, I just thought about my family, and focused upon that. Another sad thing was that when the train stopped and we got out, hundreds of women and men were holding photographs of sons, brothers, husbands and fathers, all asking everyone they saw if they knew of their loved one. Many thousands had died and there was rarely any communication back home to anyone as to what had happened, so many never returned and the families knew nothing. They were simply ghosts who vanished. I find that very sad. A big party was planned but I declined it. I did not feel that it was appropriate until everyone was home who was still alive. I also could not believe the rebuilt areas and numbers of new cars, the airplanes in the peaceful sky. The clothes style was new, all of it was new. One of the first people to meet me was Assi Hahn, who had been home five years before.

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Hartmann shortly after his release

I read everything I could find; newspapers, books and magazines, I wanted information. I had been in an intellectual vacuum for so long, I wanted knowledge. Of course Ushi and I had our church wedding, long overdue. “ Alfred, Ursula & Erich Hartmann celebrate his return

Bundesluftwaffe

“I was thirty-three when I came home, and that is late in life to start a career. I had lost touch with much of the world, but the one thing I knew was flying and the military. That was a safe call to make. The thought of fighting another war also frightened me. But I also thought about the needs of my country, and my old comrades had joined and were pressuring me to do the same. Krupi called and wanted me to join him and Gerd Barkhorn on a flying trip to England. Dieter Hrabak even came and talked to me at the house. I joined in 1956. The old boys were back.
I had a friend who let me fly his light plane, and I certified as a private pilot. Heinz Bar was also a great help, as were others. I took refresher and conversion training in Germany, England and the United States on the newer models. I was made the first Kommodore of the new JG- 71 “Richthofen” and I was very proud. “

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The New Jet Age

“The American F-104 Starfighter was a great plane, but it had problems, and I did not feel that Germany needed, or that our pilots could even handle this machine without a lot more experience. Many higher up felt that I was out of line, but I stated what I thought was accurate, and I was proven correct, but this made me enemies. I also did other things that were considered criminal, such as having the unit’s F-86s painted with my old tulip pattern, and I created the squadron bars, like in the old days, and this raised eyebrows. I felt that morale was important and camaraderie through a unique and distinguishing emblem was needed. The bars were killed under superior directives, although today all Squadrons have them. I did have supporters, such as General Kammhuber, but he was a rare breed from the old days.
After retirement I instructed and flew at a few air clubs, and flew in an aerobatics team with Dolfo Galland. Later I just decided to relax and enjoy life. “

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Do I hate the Russians? “One thing I've learned is this: Never allow yourself to hate a people because of the actions of a few. Hatred and bigotry destroyed my nation, and millions died. I would hope that most people did not hate Germans because of the Nazis, or Americans because of slaves. Never hate, it only eats you alive. Keep an open mind and always look for the good in people. You may be surprised at what you find.”

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