P-38 Lightning; de Havilland Mosquito: Flying Fortress bombers and their heroic crews in The Mighty 8th Command

 

 

de Havilland Mosquito When the Mosquito entered production in 1941, it was one of the fastest operational aircraft in the world.[6] Entering widespread service in 1942, the Mosquito first operated as a high-speed, high-altitude photo-reconnaissance aircraft, and continued to operate in this role throughout the war. From mid-1942 to mid-1943 Mosquito bombers were used in high-speed, medium- or low-altitude missions, attacking factories, railways and other pinpoint targets within Germany and German-occupied Europe. From late 1943, Mosquito bomber units were formed into the Light Night Strike Force and used as pathfinders for RAF Bomber Command's heavy-bomber raids. They were also used as "nuisance" bombers, often dropping 4,000 lb (1,812 kg) "cookies", in high-altitude, high-speed raids that German night fighters were almost powerless to intercept. As a night fighter, from mid-1942, the Mosquito was used to intercept Luftwaffe raids on the United Kingdom, most notably defeating the German aerial offensive, Operation Steinbock, in 1944. Offensively, starting in July 1942, some Mosquito night-fighter units conducted intruder raids over Luftwaffe airfields and, as part of 100 Group, the Mosquito was used as a night fighter and intruder in support of RAF Bomber Command's heavy bombers, and played an important role in reducing bomber losses during 1944 and 1945.[7][nb 2] As a fighter-bomber in the Second Tactical Air Force, the Mosquito took part in "special raids", such as the attack on Amiens Prison in early 1944, and in other precision attacks against Gestapo or German intelligence and security forces. Second Tactical Air Force Mosquitos also played an important role operating in tactical support of the British Army during the 1944 Normandy Campaign. From 1943 Mosquitos were used by RAF Coastal Command strike squadrons, attacking Kriegsmarine U-boats (particularly in the 1943 Bay of Biscay offensive, where significant numbers of U-boats were sunk or damaged) and intercepting transport ship concentrations. The Mosquito saw service with the Royal Air Force (RAF) and many other air forces in the European theatre, and the Mediterranean andItalian theatres. The Mosquito was also used by the RAF in the South East Asian theatre, and by the Royal Australian Air Force (RAAF)based in the Halmaheras and Borneo during the Pacific War.

de Havilland Mosquito A Mosquito B Mk.IV The de Havilland Mosquito was one of the most successful aircraft of the Second World War. Only the Junkers Ju 88 could rival its versatily. All this was achieved by an aircraft which encountered great resistance when it was offered to the RAF. The Mosquito was designed as an unarmed, high-speed bomber. By dispensing with defensive armament the size, weight and drag of the aircraft could be greatly reduced. It was assumed that the resulting small, fast aircraft bomber would be almost impossible to intercept. The de Havilland design team lead by R.E. Bishop, R.M. Clarkson and C.T. Wilkins proposed the design of a twin-engined bomber, able to carry 1000 pounds (454kg) of bombs over 2400km, and able to reach a speed of 655km/h. The staff officers of the RAF and the officials of the Air Ministry where highly skeptic. They had earlier seen how some "fast" bombers had fallen short of the promised performance, or had been overtaken by progress in fighter designs, and became highly vulnerable. Also, de Havilland proposed a wooden construction, which is generally heavier than a metal one, but could be given a very smooth finish. However, a wooden structure was certain to deteriorate in a tropical climate, an important consideration for the RAF. The project proceeded hesitantly, and would probably have been cancelled definitively without the support of Sir Patrick Hennesy. Finally, a small series was ordered, as reconnaissance aircraft. The prototype was built in great secrecy in Salisbury Hall, and made its first flight on 25 November 1940. The D.H.98 handled well and reached 632 km/h, faster than the fighters in production. The Mosquito was a exceptionally streamlined design. The fuselage was made in left and right halves, which were shaped in concrete rigs and then joined. They were made of balsa wood between two layers of cedar plywood. The rest of the airframe was primarily made of spruce, with plywood covering. The wing was built in one piece, and attached to the lower side of the fuselage structure. The bomb bay was below it. The Merlin engines were put in steel-tube mountings in underwing nacelles, which also contained the main landing gear. The radiators were housed in the extended leading edges of the wing center section, with inlets in the leading edge and outlets under the wing. This was an arrangement which reduced drag and even contributed positive thrust. The cockpit, over the wing leading edge, had seats for the pilot and the navigator. The bomber and reconnaissance models had a transparent nose. A Mosquito FB Mk.XVIII. The barrel of the 57mm cannon is clearly visible. External fuel tanks are fitted under the wing. The first production version was the PR Mk.I reconnaissance aircraft, powered by Merlin 21s, which arrived in the summer of 1941. Only a few of these were built, before production was switched to the B.IV bomber. The first Mk.IVs were converted Mk.Is, but from November 1941 on wards the production B.IVs arrived. Originally they carried four 250 lb bombs, but later a switch was made to four 500lb bombs with shortened tail fins. The PR.IV was a reconnaissance conversion of the B.IV. The T.III trainer appeared in early 1942, but was built in relatively small numbers. From the start, high priority was allocated to a heavy fighter version, and the initial contract was amended so that half the order became fighters. They emerged as NF.II night fighters, with four 20mm cannon, four .303 machine guns, and AI Mk.IV radar. The NF.II became operational in May 1942, somewhat delayed by a shortage of Merlin engines and the end of the German night bomber offensive. Later night fighter models had centimetric AI Mk.VIII or Mk.X radar. The installation of the radar dish in the nose required the deletion of the machine guns. In June 1942 the FB.VI fighter-bomber model flew, and this was to become the most built Mosquito. It had the four .303 guns and four 20mm cannon of the night fighter, but could also carry two 500lb bombs internally , and from 1944 on wards they were equipped to carry four rockets or a 500lb bomb under each wing. A variation was the FB.XVIII, sometimes called "Tse Tse", in which the four 20mm cannon were replaced by a single 57mm Molins cannon, which weighed 715kg and fired 6lb shells. Only two .303 guns retained, and additional armour was installed. These were originally intended as anti-tank aircraft, but because the 57mm cannon was obsolete in this role they were directed to Coastal Command. The high-altitude performance of all models was greatly increased by the installation of Merlins with two-stage compressors, as installed in the PR.VIII, B.IX, or NF.XXX. The B.XVI introduced further refinement, with 'handed' engines to eliminate torque, and a pressure cabin. Some were fitted with bulged bomb bay doors, and could carry a single 4000lb (1814kg) bomb. The Mosquito soon made its mark in many roles. It became the standard night fighter of the RAF, replacing the slower Beaufighter. They defended Britain against small numbers of German bombers, claimed 486 V-1s, escorted British bombers over Germany, and in "intruder" units they flew offensive missions at night. The bomber versions equipped the Pathfinder Force, marking targets for the heavy bombers of Bomber Command, and were used for light night attacks on German cities. Until the night fighter version of the Me 262 jet appeared (in small numbers) in 1945, the Germans did not have an effective defense. The fighter-bombers attacked precision targets throughout Europe with bombs and rockets. The long-range reconnaissance versions complemented the PR Spitfires. They were also used by the USAF, that assigned the designation F-8. Perhaps the most unusual version was the Sea Mosquito TR.33, a highly modified version which was designed for carrier operations -- a plan that was abandoned when the war ended. Coastal Command had seven squadrons equipped with the FB.VI, and later also received the 27 FB.XVIIIs. The Mosquitos were used for anti-shipping strikes, mainly against coastal traffic. Because this brought them within the range of land-based Luftwaffe fighters, good performance was essential. But the coastal convoys were also well protected with anti-aircraft guns, and attacks were dangerous. The Mosquito fights the U-boats From November 1943 on wards the Mosquito was also used to attack U-boats shortly after, or just before they entered a port. Warning of these opportunities was provided by code breakers. At that moment the U-boats travelled on the surface, and therefore were vulnerable to rockets or the 57mm shells of the FB.XVIII. For safety, the U-boats usually formed small convoys, with an escort of mine sweepers or so called Sperrbrecher ships, which had hulls reinforced with concrete as a protection against mines; both types bristled with anti-aircraft guns. For example, on 27 March 1944 six FB.VIs and two FB.XVIIIs attacked a convoy towards La Pallice, formed by U-960with a escort of four M-class mine sweepers and two Sprerrbrecher vessels. Three mine sweepers suffered light damage, U-960 was badly damaged, two Mosquitos returned home with serious damage, and one crash-landed. Total production of the Mosquito was 7781, including 1034 built in Canada and 212 built in Australia. 1942 Flying Fortress bombers and their heroic crews in The Mighty 8th Command

A stricken Allied bomber, the German ace sent to shoot it down and a truly awe inspiring story of wartime chivalry Luftwaffe pilot Lt Franz Stigler refused to shoot down near-destroyed Allied bomber Instead he guided stricken pilot Lt Charlie Brown to safety A phone call led to a tearful reunion of the two World War II veterans Incredible story: He was a real master of the skies, but Luftwaffe veteran Franz Stigler showed pity to an Allied bomber in its hour of need The lone Allied bomber was a sitting duck. Holed all over by flak and bullets and down to a single good engine, it struggled simply to stay in the air over Germany, let alone make it the 300 miles back to England. The rear gunner’s body hung lifeless in his shattered turret, another gunner was unconscious and bleeding heavily, the rest of the ten-man crew battered, wounded and in shock. The nose cone had been blown out and a 200mph gale hurtled through the fuselage. Somehow the pilot, 20-year-old Lt Charlie Brown, still clung to the controls — and the last vestiges of hope. He had already performed miracles. Returning from a daylight bombing run to Bremen, he had manoeuvred the plane magnificently through a pack of Messerschmitt fighters, taken hit after hit, then spiralled five miles down through the air, belching smoke and flames, in an apparent death dive before somehow levelling her out less than 2,000ft from the ground. If common sense prevailed, he would order everyone to bail out and leave the B-17 Flying Fortress to its fate. He and the crew would parachute to safety, prisoners of war but alive. But that would mean leaving an unconscious man behind to die alone, and Brown refused to do that. Mercifully, though, he realised as he coaxed the massive plane along at 135mph, barely above its stalling speed, the German fighters had disappeared. They must have seen the bomber — part of the U.S. Air Force based in eastern England — plummeting to earth that day in December, 1943, and ticked off another kill before returning to base. There was a faint chance, then, they might make it home after all, even though, as his flight engineer now reported after an inspection of the plane’s blood-spattered interior,  ‘we’re chewed to pieces, the hydraulics are bleeding, the left stabiliser is all but gone and there are holes in the fuselage big enough to climb through’. In the distance, agonisingly close, Brown could see the German coastline, and ahead of that the North Sea and open skies back to England. Spirits rose — until a glance behind revealed a fast-moving speck, a lone Me109, getting bigger and bigger by the second, closing in. In the cockpit of the German fighter, his guns primed, was Lt Franz Stigler, a Luftwaffe ace who needed one more kill to reach the 30 that would qualify him for a Knight’s Cross, the second highest of Germany’s Iron Cross awards for bravery. Stigler, aged 28 and a veteran airman who had been flying since the start of the war, had been refuelling and reloading his guns on the ground when the lone B-17 had lumbered slowly overhead. History: John D Shaw's painting A Higher Call which shows Franz Stigler and Charlie Brown in flight Within minutes, he was fast-taxiing to the runway and up in the air to give chase, the precious Knight’s Cross now just a leather-gloved trigger-finger away. What happened next was extraordinary in the annals of World War II — and told in a new book that offers a gleam of humanitarian light in the dark tragedy of that conflict. As Stigler came up behind the bomber he could not believe its condition. How was it still flying? Nor, strangely, was there any gunfire from the stricken plane to try to ward him off. That was explained as, inching closer, he saw the slumped body of the rear gunner. Veering alongside, he could see the other guns were out of action too, the radio room had been blown apart and the nose had gone. Even more startlingly, through the lattice work of bullet holes, he glimpsed members of the crew, huddled together, helping their wounded. He could make out their ashen faces, their fear and their courage. His finger eased from the trigger. He just couldn’t do it, he realised. He was an experienced fighter pilot. He’d fought the Allies in the skies over North Africa, Italy and now Germany. This bomber he was cruising alongside was just one plane out of the countless air armadas that had been pulverising his homeland night and day for three years, wiping out factories and cities, killing hundreds of thousands of civilians. And yet . . . Stigler was struggling with a dilemma. He was not content just to ease back and let the bomber escape. He was now determined to save it and the men on board. Stigler saw himself as an honourable man, a knight of the skies — not an assassin. The first time he flew in combat was with a much admired officer of the old school, who told him, ‘You shoot at a machine, not a man. You score “victories”, not “kills”. ‘A man may be tempted to fight dirty to survive, but honour is everything. You follow the rules of war for you, not for your enemy. You fight by rules to keep your humanity. So you never shoot your enemy if he is floating down on a parachute. If I ever see you doing that, I will shoot you down myself.’ The message hardly chimed with the ruthless Nazi mentality that had gripped Germany and its armed forces under Hitler. Nor with a war being fought with such savagery on many fronts. But it chimed with Stigler, who had never bought into Nazi philosophy or joined the party. He prided himself in fighting by this code. It never mattered more than here and now, flying side by side with a helpless enemy over northern Germany. His Knight’s Cross could go hang. ‘I will not have this on my conscience for the rest of my life,’ he muttered to himself. Aboard the American bomber, anxious and bewildered eyes swivelled towards the Messerschmitt, now positioned just above its right wing tip and matching its speed as if flying in formation. They could clearly see the pilot’s face, the whites of his eyes. What was the bastard up to? He must be toying with them. Why didn’t he just get it over and done with? To their amazement, they saw the German waving frantically, mouthing words, making gestures. What was he trying to say? In his cockpit, Stigler was struggling with a dilemma. He was not content just to ease back and let the bomber escape. He was now determined to save it and the men on board. But he knew that before it crossed out of Germany it would come within range of anti-aircraft batteries lined up along the coast, which would blast it out of the sky. High in the sky: An incredible display of humility was displayed that was unlike much of the WWII air battles Change course, he was trying to tell the enemy crew. Head eastwards to neutral Sweden, a 30-minute flight away, crash-land there and spend the rest of the war as internees but alive. But any words were lost in the roar of the bomber’s faltering engines, while in its front seat, Brown clung doggedly to the control column and ploughed on. Stigler now took an even more momentous decision. He gambled that if the flak gunners down on the ground spotted his Messerschmitt side by side with the enemy bomber, they would hold fire. He held his course, prepared to risk being shot down himself. The ploy worked. Not a shot was fired from the ground. But Stigler knew he now faced a different danger. There were witnesses to his actions. If word got back that he had helped an enemy bomber to escape, he faced a court martial and a firing squad for treason. Back in the helpless B-17, the crew were confused as the Messerschmitt continued alongside. The ‘crazy’ German pilot was gesturing at them again. Stigler believed they had no chance of surviving all the way back to England. They would crash in the North Sea and drown. Sweden, go to Sweden, he was still frantically trying to tell them. By now, the uncomprehending Brown had had enough of the German’s presence at his side. He thought the ‘son of a bitch’ was trying to shepherd him back to Germany. He ordered the one remaining gun turret to be swung towards the enemy fighter. As the barrels turned in his direction, Stigler got the message. He had done all he could. He gave one last look, mouthed ‘Good luck’, saluted the Americans and peeled away.  Brown and his men made it back, on a wing and a prayer. As the crippled plane slipped below 1,000ft, they jettisoned everything weighty:radio, guns, even the spent cartridge cases on the floor. Still they dropped . . . 500ft, 400ft. There was nothing but sea ahead. For more than 40 years, Brown kept the secret but he never forgot. Then, in 1985, and retired to Florida, he blurted the story out at a veterans’ reunion. But they had pals around them now, American P-47 fighters, urging them on. At last they cleared the coast of England, just 250ft off  the ground, and aimed at the  first airfield. The landing gear went down, so did the flaps (though only after being cranked by hand); at 50ft, Brown cut the one remaining engine and they sank on to the runway, careering along it before coasting to a breathless, almost  unbelievable halt. An exhausted Brown staggered out and for the first time took in the full extent of the damage to his plane. ‘It frightened me more than anything in the air did,’ he recalled. He had no idea how they had managed to survive. But what also stuck in his mind was the mysterious Messerschmitt pilot and that final salute. For the first time he began to grasp what had happened — he and his plane had been helped to get away. The real hero of the mission was that unknown Luftwaffe pilot. And that was what he told the intelligence officer who de-briefed him on the mission. He and his men owed their lives to a good German. It was not a message that his superiors wanted to hear, as they now made plain. What if other Allied airmen were inspired to believe there were merciful  Germans pilots out there, held back on the trigger themselves and lost their lives as a consequence? Brown and his crew were ordered not to tell a soul. They must wipe from their minds any memory of that incredible ten minutes in the sky over Germany. For more than 40 years, Brown kept the secret but he never forgot. Then, in 1985, and retired to Florida, he blurted the story out at a veterans’ reunion. ‘I still don’t know who that German was and why he let us go,’ he declared, determined now to find out. Long and fruitless enquiries over the next five years eventually led him to the newsletter of an association of German fighter pilots. He wrote his story there and waited for the remotest possibility of a response. ‘I thought there was more chance of winning the lottery than finding him alive,’ he said. In Vancouver, where he had lived for 37 years, Franz Stigler opened his regular association newsletter, and could not believe his eyes. Here, out of the blue, was the missing piece in the jigsaw of his life. After his encounter with the B-17, he had returned to base, half-expecting the Gestapo to be waiting. The Luftwaffe was always suspect in the eyes of the Nazis. Fighter pilots in particular faced scorn for failing to halt the Allied bombing raids, accused of cowardice and disloyalty, when in reality they were overwhelmed by vastly superior numbers. Incredibly, his risk had paid off: there was no Gestapo welcoming committee. But, increasingly disillusioned by what his country had turned into under Hitler, Stigler had lost any desire for the Knight’s Cross, so, though he was constantly in battle and flew close to 500 combat missions, he simply failed to register his ‘victories’ and claim what he now saw as a worthless piece of metal. He carried on fighting almost to the end, as the Third Reich collapsed in ruins around him. In the aftermath, he struggled to survive. Ironically, he ended up working in a Messerschmitt  factory, now making sewing machines under U.S. direction rather than warplanes. In 1953, he emigrated to Canada to work as a mechanic in a  logging camp. In time, he bought his own Messerschmitt and would fly in air shows as the ‘bad German’ being pursued by vintage American fighters. But the memory of that B-17 all those years ago stayed with him. Had it got home? Had the crew he had risked himself to save actually survived? He had no way of knowing. Not, that is, until by chance he saw Charlie Brown’s story in the newsletter. The two old men spoke on the phone, then met up in an emotional reunion. They wept as they hugged each other and recounted their versions of what had happened in that magical ten minutes back in 1943. For the first time, it all made sense. As Brown explained now that he knew the whole story: ‘I was too stupid to surrender, and Franz  Stigler was too much of a gentleman to destroy us.’ From then on until their deaths — Stigler in March 2008 and Brown eight months later — the two men travelled together to take their unique story to veterans’ clubs and air museums. ‘This was their last act of service to build a better world,’ writes author Adam Makos. ‘Their message was simple: enemies are better off as friends.’

WWII in color: Rare photos from 1942 show Flying Fortress bombers and their heroic crews in The Mighty 8th Command Millions of poignant black-and-white photos have come out of the World War Two era, but it is not often that scenes from the deadliest conflict in human history can be seen in living color. In 1942, LIFE Magazine sent Margaret Bourke-White, one of its four original staff photographers and the first female photojournalist accredited to cover WWII, to take pictures of the VIII Bomber Command, commonly known as the Eighth Air Force or The Mighty 8th. The photographs, executed in brilliant hues that make them look almost like oil paintings, put on full display the massive American B-24s and B-17s - or Flying Fortresses - that rained terror on Nazi-control cities often in tandem with the Royal Air Force.      Boeing B-17G Flying Fortress 44-83514 B&W Markings: Sentimental Journey, 457th Bomb Group based in Glatton, England, during World War II with the Eighth Air Force Technical Specifications Wingspan 103 ft 9 in Length 74 ft 4 in Height 19 ft 1 in Weight 65,500 lbs (loaded) Maximum Speed 287 mph Service Ceiling 35,600 ft Range 2,000 miles Engines 4 Wright R-1820-97 radial, 1,200 horsepower each Crew 9 Sentimental Journey (44-83514) is the nickname of a B-17G Flying Fortress bomber. It is housed at the museum at Falcon Field, Arizona by the Commemorative Air Force.[1] The aircraft is regularly flown to airshows around the country. Nose art features Betty Grable, the number-one pin-up girl of the World War II era. The aircraft's name takes after a song made very popular by Doris Day in 1945. Sentimental Journey rolled off the Douglas assembly line in late 1944 In the early stages of the war, the Eighth Air Force and the bombers under its command were praised for the 'fantastic accuracy' of the attacks. But as the conflict dragged on, the Flying Fortresses and their crews would face heavy loses, the most dramatic of which came in October 1943 when 60 bombers were destroyed and 600 pilots perished in a single raid in Germany. Some of Bourke-White’s pictures show everyday scenes from the base in England, like the portrait of an American pilot with a pink toy bunny - likely a good luck charm from a child - tucked in his waistband.   Lieutenant "Mike" Hunter, Army pilot assigned to Douglas Aircraft Company, Long Beach, Calif. (LOC)Lieutenant "Mike" Hunter, Army pilot assigned to Douglas Aircraft Company, Long Beach, Calif.1942 Oct.   Another image shows an Air Force service member painting caricatures on the nose of an aircraft poking fun at the leaders of the Axis - Adolf Hitler, Benito Mussolini and Japan's Hirohito.   Getting ready: Members of the flight and ground crews of a B-17 bomber named 'Honey Chile II' make adjustments to their plane prior to a mission, Polebrook, Northamptonshire, England, fall 1942 Comics in the sky: An American soldier paints caricatures of Hitler, Mussolini and Hirohito on the nose of a B-17 bomber named 'Flying Flit-Gun,' which originated from the 97th Bombardment Group of the 8th Bomber Command Power of precision: The VIII Bomber Command, commonly known as the Eighth Air Force, was assembled to strategically bomb Nazi-controlled cities after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor Easy riders: Three American military personnel, possibly ground crewmen, sit on their bicycles in front of a B-17 bomber named 'Berlin Sleeper II' Good luck charm: Portrait of an unidentified American servicemen, possibly the tail gunner of a B-17 bomber, with a child's bunny doll tucked into the waistband of his fur-lined-flight suit and a type B-4 life preserver, known as a 'Mae West' Inspiring trailblazer: American photographer and journalist Margaret Bourke-White was the country's first accredited female photographer during WWII, and the first authorized to fly on a combat mission Below are additional color photographs depicting WWII-era US bombers from other Image collections. Flying machine: A B-17 bomber makes its way to England to aid the British in World War II circa 1941 Pep talk: Before taking off on a mission in 1944 a Flying Fortress crew in England receives a talk from 26-year-old Chaplain James O. Kincannon, a Van Bueren, Arkansas, minister affectionately known as 'Chaplain Jim' The 'Sally B' B-17 Flying Fortress performs fly-bys during the Memorial Day ceremony held at Madingley American Cemetery May 31, 2004 near the city of Cambridge in the UK Inside look: From left, Larry New and Neil Morrison pilot the B-17 nicknamed 'Aluminun Overcast,' a World War II bomber, as it flies, Thursday June, 8, 2006, over Denver The Sun lights the bombadier's seat in the front position as the 'Liberty Belle' B-17 banks into a turn over Lewisville Lake The B-17 G 'Shoo Shoo Baby' on a test flight over Dover AFB, Delaware. The plane is the only flyable B-17 in existence today that flew combat missions in World War II Soldiers hold Polish flags as a B-17 airplane, which took part in the Warsaw Uprising, participate in the 62nd anniversary of the uprising at the military airport in Warsaw July 31, 2006

Horrors of war relived as 550lb allied bomb is detonated in fiery explosion in Munich Huge blast lights up the night sky above the city Thousands of residents evacuated before controlled detonation Experts decided to detonate device after failing to defuse it Unknown whether bomb is American or British as both forces used payload Unexploded bomb is one of 2,500 estimated to be buried in Munich Unusual to find bomb in such a heavily populated area A ball of flame bursts over the rooftops of Munich as a wartime bomb detonates nearly 70 years after it fell on the city. For some older residents, the blast was a disturbing reminder of the nights they had to spend in shelters as the RAF rained hundreds of such devices down on them during World War II. The blast resulted from the controlled detonation of a 550lb bomb which had lain beneath the site of a former nightclub until a digger unearthed it on Monday.   Devastating: Flames from the enormous explosion light up the surrounding buildings after the bomb was detonated in central Munich Blast: The huge explosion sent clouds of debris into the air after the controlled detonation Evacuation: Thousands of people living nearby were evacuated from their homes before the detonation - which could be heard across the city Horror: The force of the blast gave an idea of the devastation caused by thousands of similar bombs which fell on German cities during WWII Aftermath: Clouds of thick smoke pour into the night sky following the blast Thousands of residents  had to be evacuated from their homes in Munich after experts said it had to be set off because its chemical detonator made it impossible to move. The awesome power of the explosion gave an insight into the devastating impact of wartime bombing raids when thousands of tonnes of explosives were dropped by Allied aircraft. Experts tried to defuse the device, which was found beneath ground at the site of the former Schwabinger 7 nightclub, a hangout of the Rolling Stones in the 1970s. At 21.54 on Tuesday night the sky of the Bavarian turned orange as a gigantic fireball reached upwards. Despite the precautions, two nearby houses caught fire, shrapnel smashed into a bridge and windows were shattered for hundreds of yards around. Straw matting placed around the bomb swirled upwards in the vortex of heat created by the blast and set on fire the roofs of five buildings. Some 30 fire engines and 200 firemen were in action to douse the blazes. 'Virtually all the window panes around the area have gone but luckily no-one was injured and that is the main thing,' said Diethard Posorski, head of the UXB team which carried out the explosion. Terrifying: The flash caused by the blast over Munich is shown in sequence (from top left) as the 550lb bomb is detonated Inferno: Munich firefighters work to tackle fires caused by the bomb detonation. Bales of hay used to cushion the blast were set alight and blown across the area Feeling the heat: Officers tackle a blaze in a nearby shop Drama: Luckily residents had long been evacuated from the area by the time the fires broke out Burned out shell: The shop was badly damaged by the fire It is not known whether the powerful explosive was dropped from British Lancaster bombers or American B-17 Super Fortresses - both of which bombed Munich over 71 bombing missions throughout the war. Both air forces used very similar and complicated fuse system on its ordinance. On Monday, after examining the unexploded bomb and discerning the type of fuse inside it, he said; 'I am not going near that. I am no suicidal.' Three men died in the university city of Goettingen in 2010 when they moved a bomb exactly like it and it went off. Two others were crippled for life. The explosion was heard all over the city of 1.4 million inhabitants and gave a small and unwelcome flavour of what the Allied aerial blitz must have been like sevden decades ago in the fight against Nazi Germany. One elderly resident told newspaper Bild: 'It was like this, like the whole city was flying into the air.' Damage: The bomb left a giant bomb crater at the site and scorch marks on surrounding buildings Rubble: Bystanders scramble over a pile of debris left by the explosion Scene of destruction: Debris from the 550lb bomb are left scattered across the area Experts like Posorski said German people will have to grow used to such scenes in the future; hundreds of thousands of unexploded bombs lie beneath their towns and cities with their fuses rotting. Gunether Sobieralski, a veteran bomb disposal expert from Brandenburg near Berlin, where the earth is littered with bombs that failed to detonate, has defused 100 Allied devices in the past few years and was flown to Munich for his advice on dealing with this one. The plan was to blow up the detonator only but in the end it was decided to destroy the entire bomb as it was too dangerous. Hours after the detonation the first of nearly 3,000 evacuated people were allowed to move back into their houses and apartments. Deadly: Bomb disposal expert Diethard Posorski next to the 550lb bomb discovered in Munich Pensioner Ulrich Meiner said: 'We thought it was noisy back then (when the site was a nightclub) but it was nothing like this.' Police carried out a giant operation to  evacuate 2,500 people living within a 1,000-yard radius of the site in the Schwabing area close to the city centre. A nearby subway station was also closed as well as parts of Leopoldstrasse, one of Munich’s busiest streets. It is unknown whether American or British planes dropped the bomb, which was discovered as diggers tore a building down. RAINING DEATH: BY NUMBERS, WWII BOMBS IN GERMANY AND BRITAIN 2.8million tons Weight of all U.S. and British bombs dropped on Germany (54% USAAF) 75,000 tons Weight of Luftwaffe bombs dropped on Britain 543,000 Germans lost their lives in WWII air raids 60,000 Britons killed by German bombs 390,000 Sorties flown by RAF bombers 2,500 unexploded bombs yet to be found in Munich, according to experts 5% The proportion of bombs that failed to detonate Both countries used the same type of 550lb explosives and rust is understood to have obscured any identifying marks. the war Royal Air Force and U.S. Army Air Force are estimated to have dropped around 50,000 bombs on Munich. City officials believe that 2,500 unexploded payloads are still buried in the area. And they pose a huge problem in all of Germany, where barely a week goes by without a new discovery. It is unusual, however, to find a bomb in such a densely populated areas as most undetonated explosives tend to be uncovered outside big urban zones. Allies dropped of 2.8million tons during WWII, massively eclipsing the 75,000  tons unleashed by the Luftwaffe on Britain. By the war’s end, the USAAF had dropped 1.5million tons of bombs on the country and the RAF 1.3million tons. British bombers alone flew a total of 390,000 sorties. As a result, few towns escaped extensive damage from air raids and, by 1945, 543,000 civilians had been killed by the allied assault, compared with 60,000 in Britain. The worst air raid occurred in Dresden when, over two days, at least 30,000 civilians were killed in attacks by the RAF and the USAAF. Last week a similar 550lb bomb was found in Nuremberg and experts fear that the dud payloads are becoming more dangerous due to ‘material fatigue’. Already 67 years have passed since Germany’s defeat and over time the safety elements in the trigger mechanisms are increasingly wearing away. It means that some bombs could explode before being discovered and others will be more difficult to defuse. In the most deadly incident in recent years, three bomb disposal experts were blown to bits in June 2010 as they attempted to defuse an American bomb in the northern university city of Göttingen. Fears: Bomb disposal teams were worried the device's complex chemical fuse could trigger a repeat of the 2010 tragedy when three experts were killed in a blast in another German city Preparation: Experts carried out painstaking work to prepare the device for detonation Danger: The decision was taken to detonate the bomb after efforts to defuse it had failed Precaution: The bomb was covered with sand bags ahead of the controlled blast The heavy bombing of German cities was part of the Allie's area bombing strategy. This targetted major industrial centres and was also aimed at demoralising German industrial workers. Cities in Britain and other European countries were also badly damaged by German bombing - which included the devastating London Blitz. The detonation comes as another WWII bomb was discovered by workmen at Schiphol Airport in Amsterdam resulting in the closure of its busy Terminal C. Schiphol is Europe's fifth busiest airport. Secure: Police were out in force on the streets of Munich to keep people away from the scene of the detonation Safety: Officers launched a big operation to ensure the city's residents were kept safe Waiting: Around 2,500 residents were evacuated from their homes before the controlled blast EXPERTS FACE 'IRON HARVEST' OF UNEXPLODED BOMBS ACROSS GERMANY The Munich bomb has pulled into sharp focus the lethal legacy of the German ‘iron harvest‘ - thousands upon thousands of such duds that are growing increasingly more unstable as the years roll by. As well as the Gottingen tragedy, several others have lost their lives in encounters with the bombs.In 2006 a construction worker was killed in southern Germany when his bulldozer ran over an RAF dud; the bulldozer was catapulted 60 feet into the air. In the whole of Germany, more than 2,000 tons of American and British bombs and all sorts of munitions ranging from German hand grenades and tank mines to Russian artillery shells are recovered every year. The bomb exploded in Munich was of a type containing a vial of acetone which was designed to burst on impact. The fluid was meant to trickle down and dissolve a celluloid disk keeping back the cocked firing pin that then ignites the TNT inside. Those components are disintegrating at an increasing rate. Experts warn that within a decade bombs could detonate by themselves or will be too unstable to defuse if discovered. Hans-Jürgen Weise, one of Germany's most experienced bomb disposal experts, retired two years ago after four decades spent making Germany cities safe. He warned back in 2008 of the danger of rotting detonators. “The last few years we’ve found that the detonators we take out of such bombs are increasingly brittle. We had three extracted detonators go off with a pissssh sound while they were being transported away, all it took was a bit of vibration. One day such bombs will be so sensitive that no one will be able to handle them.`` Around the capital Berlin and the surrounding district of Brandenburg - scenes of both intense Allied bombing and fierce land combat between the Wehrmacht and the Red Army - an average of 630 tons of unspent ammunition is collected each year. The sandy soil unique to the region could means as much as 30 percent of Allied bombs that fell there were duds; nationwide the rate is an estimated 15 percent. In all it is calculated that a little under 285,000 tons of Allied bombs remain buried in German soil. Every day there is a call out somewhere in Germany, sometimes two or three. It costs the government tens of millions of pounds a year; in Brandenburg alone between 1991 and 2007 the bill was close to 200 million pounds. Delayed-action bombs present the most danger. These devices were fused to explode long after their brother bombs had exploded to wreak havoc among rescue crews at the scene. Many municipalities in Germany continue to use old RAF aerial reconnaissance maps to try to pinpoint potential danger zones when embarking on major new construction projects. But the accuracy of carpet bombing in the war was virtually non-existent. In the words of Peter Giesecke, 57, a 30 year veteran of bomb disposal who successfully defused the Oberhausen bomb; “They could, and did, go everywhere, but rarely on the target they were meant for.“

http://