Images from futiristic
movie "Frau im Mond," directed by Fritz Lange, 1929. Click on thumbnail
In 1929 Rudolf
Nebel joined the VfR society at the urging of Willy Ley. Nebel had been
involved with Oberth on an earlier failed project, and since that time,
he and Oberth had been on bad terms. There were some tense moments at the
next few club meetings as the two men offered differing opinions on how
to go forward with the development of a liquid-fuel rocket. Nebel was not
a scientist, but he brought a practical engineering viewpoint to the rocketry
discussions of the VfR. Believing it best to begin with the basics, he
proposed a small liquid-rocket design. The proposal was accepted by the
membership with the exception of Oberth, who felt the design too faint.
Nevertheless, work moved forward on the project called Mirak. The
society was at first very excited to seek publicity for their upcoming
Mirak engine tests. However, that summer, after the tragic death of Max
Valier, public opinion concerning rocketry changed somewhat, and the group
decided to conduct their trials in private. Nebel and Klaus Riedel moved
to a farm in Saxony, away from view, to conduct the rocket tests. Reports
detailing the test results were published and distributed to the VfR membership.
Society members waited anxiously for word of the next successful firing
or unexpected explosion.
By this time, it was plainly obvious that the VfR needed a better location
to conduct their experiments. The not-so-rural open field they had been
using at Bernstadt suddenly seemed inadequate. It was in late 1930 when
the society happened upon a deal they could not pass up. In the northern
Berlin suburb of Reinickendorf, Nebel located an abandoned ammunition storage
complex, four square kilometers in size, complete with roads and buildings.
The society was able to rent the complex from the municipality of Berlin
for the modest sum of ten reichsmarks annually. The VfR’s Raketenflugplatz
(rocket airport) was opened on September 27, 1930. By March of the following
year, the site was ready for operation. Many improvements had been made
to the facility along with the construction of a basic test stand for static
In May of 1931
Klaus Riedel designed a new rocket, the Mirak II or Repulsor series, using
the thrust chamber developed for the Mirak, fed by two long tanks containing
liquid oxygen and gasoline, which would form guiding sticks for the forward-mounted
engine. Test results were so encouraging that some in the group were talking
about the possibility of actually launching a version of their new one-stick
Repulsor rockets. On May 10, 1931, Riedel was alone at the Raketenflugplatz
running tests on the flying variant of the design, when suddenly, to his
surprise, the rocket lifted slowly and rose to about 18 meters. Then the
motor shut off, and it fell to the ground, damaging it slightly. The Repulsor
was repaired and on May 14, 1931, made its first official flight.
The first year
of experiments at Reinickendorf saw a flurry of activity. On the first
anniversary of the Raketenflugplatz, a newsreel company came to film the
launching of the one-stick Repulsor with the latest motor design. The rocket
launch started out well but ended in disaster. After climbing to over 4,000
feet, the parachute stripped from the rocket upon deployment and the rocket
fell on top of a barn belonging to the local police department, some 3,000
feet across the road. Remaining hot fuel from the motor ignited the roof,
and there was a small fire to deal with. It was shortly thereafter that
the local police chief banned all rocket flights going forward. However,
by the middle of October Nebel had convinced the authorities to let the
experiments continue under slightly tighter safety regulations. Soon the
testing continued, and by the end of the first year, the group had launched
more than 80 rockets and conducted over 250 static firings of varying motor
designs. Conspicuous at many of these tests was a fair-haired youth who
seemed to be in the middle of every discussion.
Maximilian von Braun was born to Baron Magnus von Braun and Emmy von Quistorp
on March 23, 1912, in Wirsitz, a town in the eastern German province of
Posen. Wernher's father was a wealthy farmer and a provincial councilor
and served as Minister for Agriculture during the 1930s in President Hindenburg's
Weimar Republic. From childhood, Wernher revealed an interest in both science
and music. At age 11 he enrolled in the Französisches Gymnasium that
had been established two centuries earlier by Fredrick the Great. There,
the boy showed only a modest ability in mathematics and physics, subjects
in which he would later excel. In 1928 Wernher's father placed him in the
progressive Hermann Lietz schools. Wernher's grades and abilities improved.
Oberth’s book captured the young boy's attention. However, von Braun soon
learned that he would have to excel in mathematics to even understand the
concepts and principles in the book. Even during these younger years of
his life, von Braun was experimenting with rockets and propulsion.
Von Braun once
strapped a cluster of solid rocket motors to a wagon and shot it down a
crowded street. Many in the crowd were not amused.
“I was ecstatic,” von Braun
later recalled. “The wagon was wholly out of control and trailing a comet’s
tail of fire, but my rockets were performing beyond my wildest dreams.”
The fire-breathing wagon diverged onto the Tiergarten Strasse, a very crowded
Berlin city street. An angry police officer grabbed the young rabble-rouser
and threatened to arrest him. “Fortunately, no one had been injured, so
I was released in charge of my father.”
A pivotal point
occurred for the then 18-year-old von Braun when he entered the Technische
Hochschule in the Berlin district of Charlottenburg. While in Berlin, von
Braun’s interest in astronomy and space travel continued to grow. He had
become acquainted with Hermann Oberth, writer and spaceflight promoter
Willy Ley, and rocket experimenters Rudolf Nebel and Johannes Winkler.
He also followed the solid-fuel exploits of Max Valier. Von Braun quickly
joined the VfR and was soon participating in rocket experiments in Berlin.
It was in Charlottenburg that von Braun studied under Professor Doktor
Karl Emil Becker, a friend of his father. Becker was also a Lieutenant
Colonel in the Reichswehr (German Army). As head of the Ballistics and
Munitions Branch of the Army Weapons Department, Becker had long been involved
with research and development of long-range artillery. During the First
World War, he assisted in the creation of the Paris Gun and believed strongly
in the importance of innovative new weapons development.
deployed the Paris Gun (German Kaiser Wilhelm Geschutz’ long-range gun)
in the later stages of WWI. It was commonly called the Paris Gun because
of its use to bombard Paris from March to August of 1918. The gun was positioned
on railway mountings 77 miles from the city of Paris. The 21-centimeter
gun was manufactured using 38-centimeter naval guns fitted with special
40-meter-long inserted barrels. The shells weighed 265 pounds and were
fired by a 400-pound powder charge, giving them a range of up to 81 miles.
The humongous nature of such a weapon limited its mobility and strategic
usefulness. Long-range artillery guns soon reached the point of being so
massive that they were becoming impractical.
focus included liquid-fueled rockets. One year earlier, Becker had hired
a young German Army Captain, fresh out of Charlottenburg with a master’s
degree in mechanical engineering, named Walter Dornberger. Captain Dornberger
joined Becker’s assistant, Captain Ritter von Horstig, along with Captain
Leo Zanssen to form the nucleus of the fledgling German Army Rocket Program.
The Treaty of
Versailles placed severe restrictions on Germany’s military strength. It
limited the overall size of the German Army along with the total number
and types of weapons it could maintain.Preceding Hitler’s rise to power,
the German military tried to operate within the framework of the restrictions,
taking advantage of any omissions unforeseen after the end of WWI. This
fostered new research into innovative weapons technologies such as rockets.
The advancements in amateur rocketry of the 1920s caught the eye of several
key individuals involved in German military arms research. However, skirting
the Versailles Treaty was not the primary reason for rocket research, especially
later on, after Hitler began violating its terms incessantly. Rockets were
seen as potentially superior weapons to artillery, having a longer range
and greater mobility. This was particularly true for liquid-fuel rockets
because they offered much greater range with heavier payloads than solid-fuel
of the rocket had its roots in the enthusiastic amateur German rocket societies,
which cultivated emerging specialists such as Wernher von Braun; however,
it was the German military, using the emerging technology as a weapon for
war, which shaped the V-2. The Ballistics and Munitions Branch was solely
interested in collecting real scientific data on rocket propulsion. Becker
was not opposed to providing funding to private individuals or organizations
if said individuals could produce usable data. The problem was usually
that these groups drew a huge amount of publicity, something the Army wanted
to avoid at all costs.
The VfR members
may not have known it at the time, but soon their existence would come
to an end. Late in 1931, one of the society’s main financial backers withdrew
funding from the VfR. The coming winter saw worsening economic conditions,
which also contributed to the slow dissolution of the VfR membership. Increasingly,
members were saying that they could not afford the club dues of eight marks.
At the beginning of 1932, membership dropped to approximately 300. In desperation,
Rudolf Nebel wrote a report touting the benefits of using long-range rockets
as artillery. A few days later, Becker, along with Dornberger, traveled
to the Raketenflugplatz at Reinickendorf to inspect the facilities. The
rockets they were shown seemed very small and elementary. When Becker asked
to be shown collected data such as thrust curves, fuel consumption, and
internal temperatures, none could be given. On April 23, 1932, the Army
visited the Raketenflugplatz again and gave Nebel a small contract for
1,367 marks if he could build a rocket that would successfully reach 3,000
meters in altitude while ejecting a red flare to be tracked with Army instruments.
The launch would
take place on a date in the near future to be specified by the Wehrmacht
(German Army) at Versuchsstelle West (Experimental Station West), the new
proving grounds at Kummersdorf. The Army facility at Kummersdorf could
provide the logistics and security they needed. The necessary funds were
procured through the Army Weapons Office, and in early 1931 work began
at the Kummersdorf artillery range. Soon a test stand for solid-fueled
rocket motors was erected, followed by installation of the latest measuring
equipment that could be found.
It was a sunny
July morning in 1932 when a handful of VfR members, including von Braun,
loaded into their cars and drove south out of Berlin. They arrived near
Kummersdorf, where they met Captain Dornberger at a designated rendezvous
point. Dornberger led the group to an isolated location on the artillery
range. The group was surprised to see numerous scientific measuring instruments
already in place at the location, some of which were unknown to the amateur
rocketeers. The VfR rocket was in place and fueled by mid-afternoon. At
ignition the rocket vaulted a few hundred feet into the air, then it abruptly
veered horizontally as it became unstable. It crashed nearby before the
parachute could deploy. Disgusted with the pathetic spectacle, Becker refused
to pay Nebel the agreed-upon price, saying the rocket’s performance in
no way met the requirements stipulated for the test. With the establishment
of Kummersdorf, the Army now decided to cut all ties with Nebel and the
For amateur rocketry enthusiasts
outside the realm of the German military or German companies, things were
about to get tough. The perceived need for utmost secrecy and the desire
to garner the most ingenious minds for a new military weapon generated
a climate whereby any discussion or research from the outside had to be
commandeered or suppressed.
of 1932, the Experimental Station West at Kummersdorf was growing. New
buildings such as workshops, offices, drafting rooms, darkrooms, and a
measurement room were constructed. In addition to the existing solid-fueled
engine test stand, a new liquid-fueled engine test stand was added—the
first ever established in Germany. Plans were finalized for their first
designs and tests. For the next several months everyone on Dornberger’s
Section 1 team was either busy designing or constructing the components
for their first rocket engine tests.
political circumstances in Germany were in chaos, even worse than just
one decade before, because of the worldwide economic depression following
the crash of the American stock market in 1929. The Nazi Party almost won
the presidency under a radical new revolutionary leader named Adolf Hitler.
Only a year later, Hitler would be appointed chancellor
of the German nation, and he would quickly seize full dictatorial powers,
pronouncing himself Führer of the German people. His powerful words
struck a cord that the German public wanted to hear. Hitler promised that
Germany would regain its world status and power. German prosperity would
rebound. However, he also stirred the innermost prejudices and hatred within
the German society. Hitler promptly crushed any potential political
opposition. He formed around himself a circle of criminals and thugs who
used assassination and intimidation to increase their stranglehold on power.
The Schutzstaffel, otherwise known as the SS, became an army of personal
bodyguards for Hitler. The ranks of the SS included some of the most ruthless
and ardent Nazis. Heinrich Himmler was named head of this organization,
which eventually carried out some of Hitler’s most reprehensible proclamations.
directed against minorities was encouraged, even fostered by the state,
especially against Jews. This penchant would eventually figure prominently
in the story of the A-4/V-2 rocket.
Max Valier rocket car
Nebel and Von Braun
Karl Emil Becker
Braun had received his bachelor’s degree in aeronautical engineering from
the Charlottenburg Institute of Technology in the spring of 1932. Dornberger
later wrote about his first encounters with the young, vivacious von Braun,
“I had been struck during my visits to Reinickendorf by the energy and
shrewdness with which this tall, fair, young student with a broad, massive
chin went to work, and by his astonishing theoretical knowledge. It had
seemed to me that he grasped the problems and his chief concern was to
lay bare the difficulties. When General Becker later decided to approve
our Army establishment for liquid-propellant rockets, I had put Wernher
von Braun first on my list of proposed technical assistants."
1, 1932, von Braun signed a contract with the Reichswehr to conduct research
leading to the development of rockets as military weapons. In this capacity,
he would work for Captain Dornberger. In the same year, under a Wehrmacht
grant, von Braun enrolled at the Friedrich-Wilhelm Universität from
which he graduated two years later with a Ph.D. in physics. His dissertation
dealt with the theoretical and practical problems of liquid-propellant
rocket engines. Dornberger also began to recruit other VfR standouts such
as Heinrich Grünow, an exceptional mechanic; Arthur Rudolph, a former
colleague of Max Valier and engine designer; and Walter Riedel, an accomplished
researcher previously employed by the Heylandt Company. In 1933 Colonel
Becker was promoted to chief of the Heeres-Waffenamt Prüfwesen of
the Army Weapons Office. He was now in charge of allocating funds to various
testing branches. This brought in a bit more money to Kummersdorf, but
the funds were still limited.
the operation grew in size. Preparations were underway to construct a rocket
that would finally take flight. Fuel mixture, flow, cooling, and ignition
had been studied, but only in static test conditions. A new rocket would
be proposed using the moniker Aggregat (assembly) number 1 (A-1). Inherent
in the proposed design of this rocket was the idea that the rocket or a
portion of the rocket should spin to maintain stability. The rocket would
stand 55 inches tall and be one foot in diameter with a weight of just
around 330 pounds. Different from previous designs, the Heylandt-produced
rocket engine was to be located at the bottom of the rocket, contained
inside a portion of the alcohol fuel tank. At the top of this tank was
an insert to accommodate a container for the liquid oxygen. Nitrogen was
used to pressure feed the propellants to the engine. The overall weight
of the A-1 came in at almost 400 pounds, and the spinning flywheel in the
nose caused instability. It was not going to be a device that could fly,
but it did provide valuable information about fuel mixtures and cooling.
Fuel and oxygen-valve inconsistencies caused delayed and explosive ignitions.
Three examples of the A-1 were built and test fired.
Next came a
redesign of the basic A-1, renamed the A-2. This prototype maintained the
same proportions and performance, but the stabilization device was moved
to the center of the rocket. The 300-kilogram thrust engine was retained,
but a separate liquid oxygen tank was added to prevent an explosion from
mixing during powered flight. After preliminary tests were conducted, the
team at Section 1 decided to test launch two prototypes of the A-2 design.
The range at Kummersdorf was too small to conduct these tests in secrecy,
so in December 1934, the two rockets, nicknamed Max and Moritz, were transported
to the North Sea island of Borkum. The winter weather was somewhat forbidding;
however, the group managed to successfully launch the first rocket on December
19, 1934. Climbing to just over one mile in altitude, the rocket fell onto
the beach not too far from the launch tower. The following day the second
example was launched. The 300-kilogram thrust engine burned for 16 seconds,
and the rocket attained about the same height as the first. The rocket
team was ecstatic. Here was a real rocket that had performed up to their
expectations. Word of the success was sent to Dornberger at Königsbrück,
who was on duty as commander with the first Nebelwerfer solid-rocket artillery
batteries. Dornberger was pleased. They now had something to show for the
investment made by the Army.
1935, Kummersdorf received a visit from Major Wolfram von Richthofen. Von
Richthofen was the head of aircraft research for the German Luftwaffe.
He was interested in developing rocket-powered aircraft, as well as jet-assisted
launching pods for Luftwaffe heavy bombers. He asked the Kummersdorf team
if they could design such systems. Working as a contractor, the Kummersdorf
staff accepted the challenge—mainly because the Luftwaffe provided more
research funds. A contract was signed, and within a few weeks, the Heinkel
aircraft company brought their own engineers to Kummersdorf, helping to
install a 1,000-kilogram thrust rocket engine in a Heinkel He 112 fighter
aircraft. In early April of 1937, a modified He 112 was successfully test
All during this
time, Section 1 at Kummersdorf was developing larger and more powerful
rocket engines. Showing great promise, these new engines provided thrusts
of 1,000 and 1,500 kilograms. Several new test stands were constructed
to accommodate these larger engine designs. The most advanced of these
was a test stand designated for the prototype Aggregat 3 (A-3). The purpose
of the A-3 was to conduct further tests with larger, more powerful rocket
engines and to incorporate initial tests in fledgling guidance systems.
By 1936, it
had become clear to most everyone at Kummersdorf that the seemingly small
confines of Experimental Station West were unsuitable for test flights.
The Kummersdorf range was not only too small for launching liquid-fueled
rockets, it could no longer be expanded. In addition, security could be
easily compromised if the populace of Berlin looked to their south and
witnessed test missiles soaring skyward. Also, things were crowded. Section
1 workshops and facilities were crammed with over 80 people by this time.
Dornberger eventually persuaded Major General Werner von Fritsch, head
of the Reichswehr, to visit Kummersdorf in March of 1936. The trip must
have made an imprssion, because when the visit was over, von Fritsch simply
stated, “How much money do you want?”
The Army began
contemplating the possibility of a large research center, a center that
would be unique. It should be devoted to the development of a weapon unlike
any seen before. Dornberger set the standards for selecting the new proving
ground. It must be located on the coast near the water. The firing trajectory
should be equidistant to a coastline for tracking purposes. The location
should be flat and large enough for an airfield. Lastly, the center should
be constructed in a remote location, away from view for the utmost secrecy
and security. Von Braun had been conducting a search on his own initiative
for the past several months all along the Baltic coast. A location on the
island of Rügen was at first thought to be suitable, but there was
no way it could be wrestled from the German Labor Front, as it was destined
to be the official Nazi beach resort for all union workers. While visiting
his parents, von Braun’s mother suggested he look at Peenemünde. She
said her father used to go duck hunting there. Von Braun followed her advice
and took a trip to see the area himself. It was perfect. The location met
all of the requirements set forth for the new research center.
The most important
benefit from the rocket group’s association with the German Air Force was
the enthusiasm shown by the Luftwaffe officials. The Air Ministry was keen
to expedite the development of rocket-powered aircraft. In a meeting with
von Braun, the Luftwaffe’s von Richthofen nonchalantly offered five million
reichsmarks to the Army’s rocket group toward the construction of the new
facility. When word of this reached Army Ordinance, it caused an uproar.
The unprecedented breech of military etiquette angered General Becker.
Vowing not to be upstaged, Becker told Dornberger the Army would not be
outspent by the “junior” service and pledged six million reichsmarks to
In the spring
of 1936, a meeting was arranged at Luftwaffe headquarters. The northern
tip of Usedom was to be divided between the Luftwaffe’s Peenemünde
West and the Army’s Peenemünde East. The construction project was
given to the Luftwaffe engineers. The rocket group appreciated the energy
of this new, nonbureaucratic service. Many believed the project would move
faster and more efficiently if carried out by the Luftwaffe’s Air Ministry.
Soon construction started.
It would take
a few years to complete the construction at Peenemünde. In the meantime,
work continued at Kummersdorf. The A-3 was still a priority, but now, assured
of an establishment of such grandiose scale in the near future, the engineers
turned their attention to a much larger project: the A-4, later to be known
as the infamous V-2. The specifications for the A-4 were compulsory for
the creation of an artillery round, not a spaceship. To make the A-4 look
attractive to the Army, Dornberger decided the A-4 should have twice the
range of the Paris Gun of the First World War. It should have a one-ton
warhead and be easily transported on existing German infrastructure. The
thrust required to propel a missile of this size would be about 25 metric
tons. Thinking as a military man and artillerist, not as a space visionary,
Dornberger prescribed a weapon intended to surprise and demoralize an unsuspecting
enemy. He was very restrictive in his demands relating to accuracy requirements:
for every 1,000 meters in range, a deviation of only two or three meters
was acceptable. At a range of 230 to 250 kilometers, this would mean the
A-4 should impact no further than 750 meters from the intended target.
It would be much harder to achieve this than maybe he realized at the time.
However, if it could be accomplished, the weapon would be quite formidable.
After the A-2
success in late 1934, von Braun planned the A-3, a larger and heavier rocket.
The A-3 designers adopted the validity of many A-2 components. The 1,500-kilogram
thrust engine in the A-3 was simply a scaled-up version of the A-2 power
plant. Slight variations were made, a double-wall cooling method was introduced
whereby the alcohol circulated around the combustion chamber, and the injection
system utilized a different method of mixing the fuels, which created more
efficient combustion and higher exhaust velocities. Along with more powerful
engines, the difficult problem of guidance needed to be addressed to achieve
the goals outlined for the future A-4. The expertise needed to manufacture
a three-dimensional gyroscope was beyond the capabilities of the Kummersdorf
staff in the early thirties. A stabilization device of this kind would
be required for guidance and control of the A-4 to realize the accuracy
requirements stipulated by Dornberger. An outside company specializing
in naval gyroscopic manufacturing—Kreiselgeräte GmbH (Gyro Devices,
Ltd.)—was contacted by the rocket team in hopes that it could produce a
similar device to meet the needs of rocket guidance.
A-3 test at Kummersdorf
Aerial view Island Oie
A-3 being raised
A-3 readied on Oie
A-3V1 during launch
By late 1936,
after several design revisions, the device was delivered for installation
in the A-3. The gyro platform would send signals to jet vanes situated
directly in line with the rocket’s exhaust, which would deflect the aspect
of thrust. Connectors that extended from servos in the control compartment
controlled the vanes. The A-3 was also equipped with long but narrow fins
for aerodynamic stability. The idea was to design a fin with enough surface
area to maintain the center of pressure behind the center of gravity but
at the same time not present a heavy drag inhibiting the speed of the rocket.
The shape of each fin would also need to maintain stability at supersonic
As early as January 1936, the A-3 design had been undergoing wind-tunnel
tests under the supervision of Dr. Rudolf Hermann at the Technical University
at Aachen. The tunnel used for the tests was extremely small, but the data
indicated some disturbing issues concerning the overall A-3 configuration.
It revealed that the A-3 was stable but so stable that it was susceptible
to crosswinds that would cause flight deviation. Also, the fins did not
provide a large enough profile to control the rocket at high altitudes
and were going to burn up in the rocket exhaust, which would expand as
the air density decreased. However, because it had taken more than six
months to gather the information, the A-3 was more or less complete by
the time von Braun received the results. It was apparent to Dornberger
and von Braun that a larger, more sophisticated wind tunnel would need
to be constructed at Peenemünde.
The first A-3
was ready for launch at the end of 1937. It had been an exciting year for
the group. Having moved into the partially completed facilities at Peenemünde
in the spring of 1937, they finalized the assembly of four A-3 prototypes
and now were ready to launch from their new facility. However, the test
flights were actually conducted on the tiny island of Greifswalder Oie,
just a short distance from the tip of Peenemünde. Earlier that year,
crews constructed a concrete launch platform along with an underground
observation bunker, near the edge of the tree line. Control cables ran
from the platform to the bunker and a telephone line was connected to the
lone lighthouse nearby.
First A-3 test Greifswalder Oie
WMV 2.4 MB
The weather was abysmal. Conditions on the Greifswalder Oie were the worst
imaginable. Rain, wind, and cold delayed the launches. It was not the most
ideal setting to conduct important rocketry experiments. The fact that
the trials went on in these horrible conditions was evidence of how important
the pace of rocket development was; the feeling existed that schedules
must be adhered to, come rain or shine. In spite of the conditions, excitement
and camaraderie among the crew kept spirits high as they prepared for the
tests. The first A-3 was launched on the morning of December 4, 1937.
was good, then unexpectedly, the parachute deployed prematurely. The rocket
turned into the wind and crashed some 300 meters from the launch site.
The early parachute deployment caused a misdiagnosis of the flight deviation,
and this was only confounded when it happened again a few days later during
the second A-3 test flight.
was removed during the third launch on December 8,
but still the rocket turned into the heavy winds and crashed. A fourth
launch attempt yielded the same results. Dornberger and von Braun remembered
the predictions of Dr. Hermann; the A-3 wind-tunnel tests were proven correct.
The rocket was susceptible to high winds, and the new three-axis-gyroscopic
control system was not adequate to make the necessary adjustments to correct
Second A-3 test
WMV 1.2 MB
A new test missile
was needed to iron out the steering problems still facing the rocket team
at the conclusion of the A-3 tests. The wind-tunnel tests at Aachen and
subsequent suggestions for improving the overall A-3 design convinced Dornberger
to pressure Dr. Hermann to join the experimental staff at Peenemünde.
In April 1937 Dr. Hermann was persuaded. The world’s most sophisticated
supersonic wind tunnel, which would ultimately simulate a running speed
of over Mach 4, was built in the heart of the laboratory and workshop area
of Peenemünde East.
Peenemünde, Dr. Hermann quickly recruited the best aerodynamicists
he could find. One of the first to join Rudolf Hermann in Peenemünde
was Dr. Hermann Kurzweg. It was Dr. Kurzweg, working
with hand-carved models with various fin configurations, who developed
the basic design of the A-5 and later the A-4. The designation A-4 was
already given to the final production version of a weapon, so the new test-bed
missile was given the number A-5, even though it was out of sequence. It
would resemble a miniature A-4, incorporating the same aerodynamic design
as the future weapon along with a new inertial guidance control system.
Internally, many of the A-3 components remained the same, and the engine
was powered by the same fuels. But the A-5 would carry a radio-command
system for ground control of engine cutoff and remote parachute deployment.
While construction moved forward on the wind tunnel at Peenemünde,
testing at Aachen continued. Small-scale models were launched to test the
different fin designs, followed by the first actual test flights of the
A-5 in October of 1938.
Dornberger had dictated a regimented schedule for A-5 production and testing.
The A-5 should have the ability to carry out all of the flight research
tasks that were essential to final design requirements on the larger A-4.
This included the ballistic shape, the ability to pass through the
sound barrier, and guidance throughout the burning portion of the missile’s
flight. While waiting on industrial contractors to put the finishing touches
on the new gyroscopic equipment, the Peenemünde team launched four
unguided A-5s from Greifswalder Oie and was pleased with the results of
factions in Germany were now dominated by the Nazi Party. The rocket team,
in their daily bustle, paid only slight attention to the international
struggles taking place at the time. On January 25, 1938, Hitler was shown
a document in which Reichsführer SS Himmler accused General von Fritsch
of criminal homosexual activities. Von Fritsch was replaced by Colonel
General Walther von Brauchitsch. Hitler abolished the War Ministry, reorganized
the armed services, and created the Armed Forces High Command (OKW). The
Führer assumed full command. Von Brauchitsch understood Hitler’s intentions.
If Hitler was determined to take the country to war, von Brauchitsch would
strive to make sure Germany’s armed forces were ready.
Von Braun speaks about Kummersdorf and the need for larger facilities (.5
It was a cold,
rainy day in the spring of 1939 when Hitler visited the Kummersdorf Experimental
Station with Field Marshal von Brauchitsch and General Karl Becker of Army
Ordinance. Others in attendance included Deputy Führer Rudolf Hess,
Martin Bormann, and several others. By this time, Peenemünde would
have been more representative of contemporary rocket research, but because
of the extreme secrecy surrounding the new rocket center, the Führer
did not visit Usedom. After some introductions, Dornberger, now a colonel,
proceeded to escort the entourage around the old facility. Dornberger described
to Hitler the research at the station, providing a basic outline of the
group’s history and current objectives. To some in the tour, Hitler seemed
to be somewhat disinterested. They followed Dornberger to the captive test
stands, where in preparation for the Führer’s visit, several engine
tests had been readied. With cotton stuffed into his ears, Hitler peered
through the observation slot of a protective wall as a 300-kilogram thrust
engine was fired. Those accompanying Hitler were smiling and excited by
the demonstration, while Hitler said nothing. Next was another static firing
of a more powerful 1,000-kilogram thrust engine. The noise from the second
engine made Hitler wince, but otherwise he showed no emotion whatsoever.
As the party walked over to the third test stand, Dornberger briefed Hitler
about the progress in Peenemünde. A model of the A-3 was laid out
showing the various components, and at this point von Braun began explaining
the inner workings of the rocket. Hitler became gradually more interested,
inspecting the rocket and listening closely to von Braun’s comments. He
even asked a few questions, one about the need for such exotic fuels. Von
Braun responded respectfully, explaining the need for high exhaust velocities
to obtain the speeds necessary to extend the range of the rocket. At the
conclusion of von Braun’s speech, Hitler turned away shaking his head.
It is unknown if Hitler discounted the feasibility of the rocket or if
he was just overwhelmed by the complexity of it all. Later in the station
mess, Hitler was served a light lunch and during the meal talked with General
Becker about various details of what they had seen. When finished, Hitler
simply said, “Es war doch gewaltig!” (It was nevertheless grand!)
toward the rocket at this time was certainly perplexing to Dornberger and
others. Dornberger recalled later, “He was the only visitor who had ever
listened to me without asking questions.” For a man with such zeal when
it came to new weapons like warships, guns, and tanks, Hitler’s reluctance
to embrace the innovative technology of the rocket was hard to understand.
The Führer was always keen on the “next big project,” so why is it
he discounted the rocket? His ineptness was not limited to understanding
the technology of the rocket, as he would make similar blunders all through
the war, imposing his supposedly infallible will on many other innovative
projects and thereby negating their usefulness.
observes engine tests at Kummersdorf
In the fall
of 1939, Heeresversuchsstelle Peenemünde (Army Experimental Station
Peenemünde), HVP, was fully staffed after the transfer of the remaining
personnel from Kummersdorf. The research center was under the control of
Walter Dornberger, while Colonel Leo Zanssen was retained as military commander.
However, a new problem arose. Now that Germany was at war with France and
Great Britain, manpower at Peenemünde was slowly being siphoned away
due to increasing conscription of men for the German military. Dornberger,
along with General Becker, met with Army Chief von Brauchitsch at Army
headquarters in Zossen to discuss this problem. Von Brauchitsch was persuaded
to sign an order stating that “Peenemünde should be pushed forward
by all possible means.” It was hoped that such a directive would alleviate
the drain of important personnel and skilled workers.
Brauchitsch had been Dornberger’s superior officer in the 1920s. He viewed
Dornberger as his junior protégé and kept a close watch on
his burgeoning career. Months earlier, in November of 1938, Dornberger
had convinced von Brauchitsch to issue a directive for the construction
of a full-scale missile assembly factory at Peenemünde under the auspices
of it being “particularly urgent for national defense.” Dornberger had
no qualms about using his close relationship with von Brauchitsch to Peenemünde’s
advantage. Now that Germany was at war, funding for military endeavors
would be quickly consumed by a myriad of new projects, and Peenemünde
needed its share.
By the end of
the decade, the German Army’s liquid-fuel rocket program had come a long
way. The once-tiny organization had grown beyond the wildest dreams of
its early participants. Throughout the late 1930s, activities and personnel
continued to grow at the Peenemünde complex. Reichsmarks were being
spent at an astonishing rate. A-4 development forged ahead with crucial
technological breakthroughs occurring at regular intervals. However, without
an operational weapon to show for their efforts, the work was far from
Willy Ley and Wernher von Braun discuss early German rocketry experiments
The most daunting
challenge was the development of the inertial guidance platform. Realizing
the old control system installed on the A-3 was inadequate and that the
new gyro-autopilot design would not be available anytime soon, the engineers
decided to install a heavier, more powerful control device manufactured
by the firm of Siemens. The
A-5 was under construction after the finalizing of the new tail
surfaces, which were redesigned and shortened after extensive wind-tunnel
tests. It was thought that with the new tail surfaces being much more streamlined,
the speed of sound might be achieved during A-5 test flights. In 1938 several
small A-5 models made of solid iron were released from a Heinkel He-111
flying at 20,000 feet. The drop tests were recorded by phototheodolites
and revealed that at around 3,000 feet, the dummy A-5s exceeded the speed
By the summer of 1939, Peenemünde was ready as a launching station.
But it was on the tiny island of Greifswalder Oie that the rocket team
set up for the A-5 experiments. Many changes had taken place on the island.
Concrete roads, a concrete observation bunker, new sleeping quarters, and
a large measurement house were now in place on the island. Special instruments
were set up on the neighboring island of Rügen along with more instruments
at Peenemünde. Each location was connected to Greifswalder Oie by
cables laid under the sea. The closest station for measuring the trajectory
of the rockets launched from Oie was located on the eastern end of Rügen,
across ten kilometers of open water.
The first true
example of the A-5 was ready for its maiden flight. The previous A-5 rockets
launched in late 1938 carried no guidance systems and were launched only
to test structural and aerodynamic changes from the A-3 technology. The
A-5s would now be put through a regimented series of test flights intended
to prove the viability of components and ideas destined to be integrated
into the larger A-4 rocket. The weather conditions were good, with very
little wind, as the first full test of the A-5 commenced from Greifswalder
Oie in late October of 1939. At ignition the rocket climbed straight up,
and just as planned, the exhaust vanes directed the A-5 on an easily controlled
vertical flight course. The newly installed Siemens gyro-control gear was,
so far, working as expected. When the motor shut down 45 seconds into the
flight, the rocket was almost five miles high. Its momentum carried it
higher until gravity slowed the ascent. At the high point of the trajectory,
von Braun sent a radio signal to command the release of a drogue parachute,
followed seconds later by another signal that released the main parachute.
The rocket drifted slowly down, landing close to the island in the waters
just off shore. The rocket was retrieved easily and taken for inspection.
day two more A-5s were scheduled for launch. The results of the morning
flight produced almost the same results as those from the previous day.
Once again, the rocket made a vertical ascent, straight up, without the
complexity of an altered trajectory. However, Dornberger and the engineers
were still cautious of celebration. Even though there was reason to be
excited about the first two test flights, the A-5 was yet to perform its
most crucial task.
A-5 drop tests from He
A-5 readied for transport
A-5 fin tests from Oie
Do 17 spotter plane
The A-5 was
a test-bed rocket for all principle features of the proposed A-4. Equipped
with the new Siemens control equipment, it was designed to execute commanded
guidance during a ballistic (curved) trajectory and have the ability to
do so in stable flight. The rocket would maneuver into a ballistic attitude
when the gyroscopes tilted in the desired direction of flight, which would
cause the autopilot to send signals to the servos attached to the exhaust
vanes. They, in turn, would deflect the blast in a manner so as to tilt
the rocket slowly over. If wind gusts affected the attitude of the rocket,
the autopilot would react in the same manner, always seeking to align the
longitudinal axis of the rocket with the fundamental axis of the gyroscopes.
Thus, the gyros were responsible for the controlled tilt during a curved
flight path and primary flight course correction of the rocket. In laying
out the requirements for the A-4, the scientists determined that a 50-degree
tilt would be necessary to achieve the maximum range for the future weapon.
The third A-5 test flight, the second flight that day, was predetermined
to test this technique of controlled guidance. The engineers had often
tested the procedure during static firings of the rocket at the captive
test stands, but now they would be able to see if it really worked in flight.
As the rocket blasted away vertically from its launching point, it was
only a few seconds later when, gradually, the programmed tilt came from
the control system. They watched and cheered as the A-5 canted to the east
after four seconds of vertical climb. It crossed over the island gaining
speed as it flew in a long arc out to sea. When the motor stopped, the
missile continued and flattened out about four miles downrange. Surprisingly,
the parachute deployment was again successful, and the rocket dropped slowly
from the sky into the waters of the Baltic. Once more, the rocket was recovered
and subjected to post flight examination.
The A-5 guidance
test was completely successful. Although the rocket had not achieved supersonic
speeds, the calculations and devices worked as planned. In the A-5 the
rocket team now had a proven tool for sustained tests with all the varied
concepts that would need to be incorporated in the A-4. Later on, the A-5
would achieve a range of around 11 miles at a height of 8 miles. Dornberger
was relieved. He later stated, “Now I can see our goal clearly, and the
way that lead to it. Then I knew we would succeed in creating a weapon
with far greater range than artillery.” The A-5 would be launched again
and again to test these concepts as the team moved closer to creating the
A-5 prep and test launch
WMV 2.7 MB
facilities near the Baltic were not as confidential as the Army might have
liked to believe at the time. The recent Peenemünde successes were,
in part, the result of cooperation with civilian firms and German universities,
all of which were privy to some form of confidential information about
the rocket project. The first warning about Germany’s ongoing secret weapons
research was delivered to the British as a gift.
On the morning of November
5, 1939, a package was found resting on a window ledge outside of the British
Embassy in Oslo, Norway. The package contained seven pages of German text
and another small box, which contained a sealed glass tube. When the text
was translated it sounded incredible. The document spoke of fantastic new
weaponry being developed in Germany. Late in the evening of the same day,
the so-called Oslo Report arrived on the desk of Dr. Reginald Victor Jones,
the director of the Scientific Department at Air Ministry in London. Dr.
Jones scrutinized the documents. No one believed the information to be
genuine. It was quickly denounced as a hoax, one designed to intentionally
mislead British war planners. Dr. Jones was one of the few who actually
retained his copy of the Oslo Report,
and its value would become apparent at a later date.
the Sterrenburg paper, The Oslo Report 1939—Nazi Secret Weapons Forfeited
was years away from actually fielding a weapon. Much more research requiring
additional funding would be needed before the operational deployment of
any future weapon. During Dornberger’s earlier visit with von Brauchitsch
in 1939, he expressed the need for more funding to support Dr. Thiel with
his innovative research on the large A-4 combustion chamber. With their
latest accomplishments, Dornberger was confident they could begin series
production of the A-4 by 1943, if not sooner. It all depended on continued
funding for the research center, but resources in Germany were already
stretched to the limit. Even though Dornberger was able to secure the support
of Army Chief von Brauchitsch, who issued two Army directives—one for the
construction of the assembly plant at Peenemünde and the other for
priority in manpower and material—both directives were made without consulting
either Hitler or the Armed Forces High Command (OKW). The incoherent priority
system made it impossible to meet von Brauchitsch’s demands. Not only was
skilled labor almost nonexistent but the interference of OKW staff resulted
in Hitler canceling the directives. The Führer dictated that rocket
development should continue at the agreed-upon prewar levels.
From a distance,
Reichsführer SS Himmler kept a close eye on rocket activities in Peenemünde.
Any installation, such as Peenemünde, receiving so much attention
and funding was bound to be noticed by the head of the SS. It is apparent
that Himmler was interested in spreading his influence within the burgeoning
rocketry program as early as 1940. Wernher von Braun was contacted by Himmler
on May 1 and the Reichsführer SS awarded von Braun the SS rank of
Untersturmführer (lieutenant). Dornberger, always looking for support
of the rocket program, suggested to his colleague that it would be unwise
to decline the offer. Von Braun was hesitant but finally accepted this
position so as not to offend Himmler during a time when the rocket program
was struggling for priority. During the next few years, Peenemünde
would increasingly find itself garnering the attention of Germany’s leadership