Hitler's Heroine: Hanna Reitsch (5 page)

In the whole gang there were hardly two who belonged to the same party and with horror I realised how people who otherwise get on well together can become bitter and fanatical opponents as soon as politics are mentioned. It was all new to me … one day so fierce an argument developed between them that they almost came to blows. Then, depressed and thoughtful, I left them, for our happy atmosphere seemed now finally to have been destroyed.

This was Hanna’s attitude throughout the war. Politics to her was something distasteful that brought out the worst in people, but she tried to retain a quiet loyalty to Germany without judgement. This unfortunately meant loyalty to Hitler and all the horrors such misplaced, foolish, honour would bring.

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Hanna was determined to ignore German politics because it made her uncomfortable, but politics was not ignoring Germany: 1932 saw the end of Prussian power as Reich president Paul von Hindenburg chose to collaborate with the Nazi Party and demolish the old republican system. It all led to the carefully orchestrated ‘Bloody Sunday’ of 17 July. The Nazis staged a provocative march in Altona, a busy harbour in the Prussian province of Holstein, riling up tempers in the working-class district with the result that eighteen were killed and 100 wounded. It was the culmination of many days of street fighting between the SA and the Communists, a bloody turf war that ruined faith in the Prussian system of government. The Prussian government was declared to have failed to keep the peace in its territory and an emergency decree deposed the Prussian minister-president Otto Braun and his ministers. It might not have been so easy had not the Prussian authorities resigned themselves to their fate, thus opening the door for Hitler’s period of tyranny.

Hitler came to power in 1933 as Hanna was working with Wolf Hirth on a book concerning the theory behind flying in thermals. As much as Hanna chose to distance herself from the reality of politics in her country, she could not change the distance of her hometown from the epicentre of Nazi power. Breslau (now Wroclaw, Poland) was only an hour and a half away from Hirschberg by car and in 1932 it had become the strongest support base for the Nazis – 44 per cent of the city’s vote was National Socialist. Immediately after he came to power Hitler began to persecute the city’s Polish and Jewish population. Breslau had the largest Jewish community outside of Berlin, many of whom were thoroughly integrated into the city’s society – not the stereotypical Eastern European Jew that propaganda sought to vilify. Fewer than half were even practising their religion, but this would not save them from the blood lust Hitler had sparked.

Jewish-Marxist books were burned in huge bonfires. Jewish businesses were boycotted and Jews were forced to give the Nazi salute to passing SA troops. Boys from the Hitler Youth (Hitlerjugend) flooded the streets, singing ‘Set fire to the synagogues’. Ordinary citizens felt pressure to exclude Jewish friends from their lives. Already relationships between Jews and non-Jews were banned. Many Breslau citizens, who would otherwise have considered themselves good people, cut Jewish ties, quietly expunging Jewish friends from their lives and disowning former relationships.

The Gestapo moved in to seek out ‘undesirables’, and these included Communists, Social Democrats and trade unionists, along with the Poles and Jews. It was now illegal to speak Polish in public and anyone who looked Jewish was in constant danger; many were herded together and sent to concentration camps. One of these camps was Gross-Rosen, originally a satellite camp to the notorious Sachsenhausen before it became independent in 1941 and started to create its own sub-camps. One of these sub-camps was at Hirschberg, Hanna’s hometown.

While specific evidence of anti-Semitism in Hirschberg is mostly unrecorded, we can infer the atmosphere of the town from examples of what was happening all around it in Silesia. With Breslau very close, the Nazi influence in the area was strong and tension was high among the various ethnic groups. Hitler whipped up resentment that had been festering away just beneath the surface. Hanna’s mother complained of the Jews, blamed them for the bad that had happened to Germany. She might not have resorted to violence against them, but many of her neighbours would have. Mostly it started with bullying tactics: dead cats and pigeons thrown into Jewish gardens, the beards or hair of Jewish men being pulled on the street. This was simply an escalation of the vague anti-Semitism that had existed before Hitler. Jews had been called ‘Christ killers’ before 1933, only now such abuse was authorised by the state.

Name calling was one thing, but the situation was rapidly to get worse. Abuse became more violent, Germany imposed more and more restrictions on Jews and it became noticeable to the public that there was a widespread persecution of Jewish culture happening under their very noses. Yet neither Hanna nor her mother discussed the crisis spreading all across Silesia. No mention was made of the sub-camp to Gross-Rosen being built at Hirschberg. When vast numbers of people vanish, all from the same population, it has to be noticeable. Businesses were inexplicably closed; the Jewish owners disappeared. Yet still Hanna noticed nothing. Her home, her country was falling apart, but her only priority was a selfish one – getting to fly again. In fact, not even her beloved gliding escaped Hitler’s grasp. After the First World War and the ban on powered flight in Germany, the only means any dictator had of building an air force of new, young pilots was to train them in gliding.

While Hanna was learning of the freedom gliding could bring her, Hitler was using the sport to further his plans for world domination. The Hitler Youth was already bringing military discipline and training to the young boys who would be future members of the Wehrmacht or SS. The Flieger-Hitlerjugend or Flying Hitler Youth was training future members of the Luftwaffe. They started by building and flying model gliders, gaining a basic grounding in the principles of flight. They moved on to a short flight in a glider, much the same as Hanna had done in her training, before progressing to longer flights and, eventually, to powered aircraft at secret airfields in Russia. By the time Hitler was ready to unveil his Luftwaffe to the world he had several units of young pilots trained in this manner, all under the pretext of healthy fun and games. Not only were they ready to fly, but their early experiences had instilled a passion and enthusiasm vital for the numerous dangerous missions they would soon be involved in.

In May 1933 Hanna was busy with the ‘Grunau Baby’, the very latest in training gliders and the pride and joy of Wolf Hirth. Hanna was home in Hirschberg, having just scraped through her medical examinations, by luck rather than judgement – she had spent far more time studying plane physiology than she had human. The invitation to fly the Grunau Baby was both unexpected and exciting. Hirth was interested in filming Hirschberg from the air using the Baby and saw no reason why Hanna might not try the glider. Dressed in a light summer frock and without goggles or helmet, Hanna climbed happily into the glider, little realising this was going to be one of the most frightening flights of her life. ‘Try flying her blind,’ Hirth said confidently as he set out to tow her into the air.

It was a beautiful day and at 1,200ft Hanna cast off, taking full control of the Baby. Beautiful as the sky was, for flying it was disappointing: there was no wind and before long Hanna was heading back to the ground. Two hundred and fifty feet above the earth Hanna prepared to land – disappointed at the false start – when her wings quivered. Was this an unexpected up-current? Hanna circled and the glider climbed a little, then it suddenly dropped. Searching for the frail up-current she had just encountered, Hanna instead came across a second, stronger one. She began to climb again, first steadily, then faster and faster until, before she knew it, she had risen to around 1,500ft in barely two and a half minutes. A more experienced pilot would have been worried by this change. Hanna did not immediately sense anything was wrong. Instead she was pleased to be rising again. Then her eyes came off the instruments and looked out into a hideous black storm cloud.

It had only formed in the last few minutes, unobserved as Hanna had obeyed Hirth’s instructions to fly blind. Now she looked at it, not with fear, but with glee. ‘Here, at last, was the opportunity of an experience I had been longing for, to fly through a cloud.’ Was Hanna really so blind to danger? The answer is a simple yes. She was confident in her own abilities and besides: ‘… Wolf Hirth himself told me that as long as he has that knowledge [of flying instruments], a pilot can come to no harm.’

Hanna was now 3,600ft up and headed for the storm. She broke into the base of the cloud, catching one last glimpse of the world below before she was absorbed into the black mass and a thick layer of cloud blocked out everything. Hanna pinned her eyes to her instruments. She climbed another 20ft, and for a moment she feared hitting the nearby Riesengebirge mountain, but then she relaxed: her instruments read 5,500ft and the Riesengebirge peak is only 5,200ft. Still Hanna underestimated the danger.

Suddenly the storm erupted. Rain pelted her wings and turned into a loud hammering that overwhelmed every other sound, like an army of drummers pounding on the Baby. Worse, the windows were beginning to ice up and just beyond them Hanna could see rain and hail crashing out of the sky. Now she was afraid. Where was she? What would happen? Hanna checked the controls and they told her she was still flying true.

As fast as it began, the storm ended, but at once it was replaced by buffeting winds that tossed Hanna about in her cabin, and still she was rising! Her instruments, when she could see them, read 9,750ft! Then they just stopped. They refused to move up or down. Panicking, Hanna thumped at them, but they didn’t move. They had frozen solid …

With no instruments Hanna was truly blind. Scrabbling at the control stick, she made a desperate effort to maintain normal flight, but what was normal in this dense, hellish cloud? Before she could connect her thoughts there was a new noise, a sort of high-pitched whistle, first loud then quiet. For any pilot it was a terrifying sound – the sound of a plane slipping into a stall. The noise would stop any moment and then Hanna would have a split-second to push the Baby’s nose down before the glider became completely uncontrollable. The whistling ceased. Hanna thrust forward the control stick and lurched in her harness, but already it was too late. Helpless, falling forward, the blood rushing painfully into her head, Hanna was diving vertically, the Grunau Baby flipped over on its back. There was nothing to do. For an instant the Baby swung forward, but the dive continued, its speed building and building. Hanna pulled frantically at the control stick, heaving it back as hard as she could, trying to right the plane and completely unaware she was performing a series of involuntary loops. Still the glider shot downwards, Hanna hanging from her harness while the world shrieked by.

The mica windows had frosted over. A sudden claustrophobia enveloped Hanna and she smashed her fist into the plastic, forcing open a hole, so at least she could get one last look at the world. Her head spun, her brain in agony as the g-forces of the dive pummelled her. She was frozen, the rain pouring through the hole in the mica drenching her light summer dress. Her hands had turned blue. Hanna had failed the Baby and all she could do now was let go of the controls and hold a vain hope the natural stability of the plane would counter the dive. Fear had turned into panic, an overwhelming sense of terror engulfing Hanna Reitsch. She could not move a muscle. The fierce gale of air caused by the plummeting glider had forced her mouth open as she tried to clench her teeth.

Then, remarkably, the Baby started to climb again. The violent thrust from one position to another was even worse for Hanna. Her eyes felt as though they were bulging from their sockets and Hanna expected blood to spurt from her temples any moment. ‘HANNA-A-’ she screamed to herself, trying to get her mind out if its loop of terror. ‘Ya! Ya-a! Coward! Hang on, can’t you, cowa-ar-!’ The Baby flipped again, and now when Hanna dared to look up it was not sky she saw but dark brown earth. Something awoke inside her; she reached automatically for the controls and turned the glider right-side up. She was still very high in the air, ahead were the snow-covered peaks of Riesengebirge and even further away the rapidly moving storm clouds. She had been spat out by the clouds and by some chance of fate had survived her deadly plunge. The terror receded as fast as it had come. The slopes of Riesengebirge coasted by beneath her. Despite the ear-splitting dive, Hanna was still over 5,000ft up.

Picking a clear spot for a landing, Hanna came down beside a hotel-restaurant serving a ski resort on the Schneekoppe. It was evening and no one appeared to notice her land. Hanna walked into the hotel and presented a strange sight to the skiers; not only was she completely inappropriately dressed for such altitudes, but Hanna was soaked from head to foot, her hair clinging to her head and face in bedraggled dreadlocks. She placed a call to Wolf Hirth from the hotel reception. The Baby would need a tow to get her airborne again and there was a lot of explaining to do, not least because Hanna had crash-landed across the Czechoslovak border and come down in a neutral zone without permission. Germany, or rather Hitler, had been nagging at Czechoslovakian anxieties for a while (they were soon to discover with good reason). A German glider in the middle of the neutral zone was going to ring alarm bells.

Hirth could not risk landing his own powered plane on foreign soil to rescue Hanna. The best he could do was to drop a towrope and leave his student the task of recruiting skiers from the hotel to haul her up into the air. Fortunately, the hotel residents were enjoying the novelty of the unexpected plane and a number of them volunteered to pull on the Baby’s starting rope. Hanna took to the air once more. Darkness was descending as Hanna traced her path back to Hirschberg. She lost sight of Hirth before long and visual landmarks vanished into the gathering night. She landed in a likely looking field. The glider had lost too much height for anything else, and she resigned herself to wait for Hirth to find her once more. This was to be just the first of many Hanna-esque adventures.