It’s the 2nd of November 1944, and as US B-17s fly overhead Lieutenant Günther Andreas speeds down the runway of the Brandis airfield in his interceptor. It’s a very special aircraft — the Me 163 Komet, the only rocket-powered aircraft to ever see combat, and at this time, it’s the fastest plane in the world.

Andreas gently pulls back on the stick and moments later pulls hard and is pushed into his seat as the aircraft rockets skywards, his air speed indicator shooting past 400 miles per hour. He is joined by 15 other pilots, all in Komets, to defend fuel plants from the Allied attack. This is going to be the single largest Komet mission ever.

The Komets fly almost vertically at dizzying speed, the G-force pushing Andreas into his seat. and then, in almost an instant, he emerges into blue sky and bright sunshine. Andreas switches the engine to idle to preserve fuel and levels out his aircraft. And what he sees next leaves him breathless: he is amazed to see a long line, seemingly endless, containing 2,000 Allied aircraft flying straight towards their target — 900 bombers and 1100 escorts in close formation.

The Komets see the target and scatter. Andreas and his friend Oberfelwebel Jakob Bollenrath prepare for the high speed dive the Komets were built for. As they close in on the massive enemy formation, Andreas glances at Bollenrath, knowing this flight may be their last. Bollenrath peels off to start his attack run.

Andreas punches the throttle and dives at the formation. The bombers grow larger, the difference in speed making it feel as if the whole formation was just standing still. With a window of only a handful of seconds he takes aim and fires. His twin 30mm cannons roar, unleashing a lightning volley of shells, peppering the B-17’s wing, before he dives under the formation, and flies out of reach of their defensive fire.

He has caused damage, but hasn’t landed a fatal blow. It’s far from enough. Andreas watches as the formation open their bomb bay doors and their deadly cargo is released upon the plant below. Andreas still has several minutes of fuel and needs to do more. The formation of B-17s turns for home, wounded Fortresses trailing behind.

Perfect targets for a hunter. Andreas turns back for another run. He turns under the formation, idling his engine to preserve precious fuel. The massive figures of the bombers loom above him as he positions himself under his target. Then, he pushes the throttle to maximum and feels like he’s kicked across the back as the rocket unleashes its might, using up the last reserves of the Komet’s fuel to propel it to close to 600 miles per hour.

Andreas pulls up on the stick and rises into the air, attacking from below. But the B-17’s ball turret gunner sees him coming and swiftly turns the turret to meet Andreas’s attack. The German pilot lands his crosshairs directly on his target, and opens fire. One of his cannons immediately jams, but he’s committed.

At the same time, the ball turret gunner manages to move his twin machineguns onto an intercept for the Komet. The machineguns roar and the two men trade fire. Andreas holds his path as 50 caliber bullets zip around him, his Komet’s sole remaining 30mm cannon is striking the B-17 across its underside. “It’s like a bat out of hell, and just as hard to hit!” But then, the American finds his mark.

The bullet strikes the canopy. It flies through the cockpit, shrapnel strikes Andreas above the left eye, and the rest of the bullet punches through the metal plate behind him and into the fuel tank. His confidence in his aircraft instantly vanishes. The fuel tank behind him is full of a substance infamous for spontaneous explosions and melting the skin of unfortunate pilots.

Andreas tries to turn and run from the B-17s, and he needs to get out. Fast. He immediately dives away from the formation. Tracers zip by, but he escapes their grasp in a matter of seconds. Andreas knows his plane is likely to explode and so he calmly but swiftly unbuckles and reaches for the canopy. But it doesn’t move.

“Damn it… Come on, move… Move!” He redoubles his efforts, pushing with all his might against the force of the airstream holding the canopy down. Little does he know, he’s being watched the entire time. The commanding officer of the 336th Squadron Captain Fred Glover has been watching Andreas from the cockpit of his P-51 Mustang.

“Got one! Intercepting.” Seeing the contrails of the Komet he turns to starboard to intercept and slides in behind Andreas’s stricken plane. Andreas sees the Mustang and gets back on the stick, pushing it forward in an attempt to dive as the Mustang unleashes a firehose of .50 caliber fire. Glover roars by and Andreas pushes his throttle to full to escape.

But nothing happens. He’s out of fuel. Andreas looks over his shoulder and sees the Mustang turning back. He tries the canopy again, desperate to get out, but it’s not budging. He looks back up at the chilling sight of six deadly .50 caliber machineguns coming straight at him. Glover holds the trigger down and rains hell upon the small winged rocket ship.

The Komet sheds pieces, entire panels peeling off, revealing the machinery within. His bullets pierce the Komet’s fuel tanks and the vapors ignite, starting a flame across the Komet’s underside. Andreas turns his little plane upside down and dives as he feels his aircraft being shot up from underneath him.

The Mustang turns to follow, staying hot on his heels as he fires a relentless onslaught of lead that peppers the small plane. Andreas still has a way out of this. Despite Glover still having an engine, the Me 163’s airframe is better suited for high speed diving, and it might just have a chance at outrunning the P-51 in a dive even without an engine.

Glover knows he has limited time and gives it everything he’s got, ripping the fragile fighter to shreds. Andreas’s time is about to run out. But then… More Komets appear from the clouds. It’s the rest of his squadron! “It’s your lucky day, Komet.” Glover abandons the chase, leaving Andreas to his fate, a fate that looks worse by the second.

Andreas holds the dive, deepening it, praying the wind alone is enough to blow out the highly volatile fuel burning inside his aircraft. And miraculously it works. The fire subsides, and Andreas levels out. But then it reignites with fury. The rocket’s two fuels burn in contact, creating a fire impossible to extinguish.

He needs to get out straight away. In the other Komet his friend Jacob Bollenrath dives down onto a bomber formation, firing a burst of shells and striking across the top of a Flying Fortress. As Bollenrath rockets past and pulls back on the throttle, a P-51, piloted by Captain Louis Norley, is waiting, and right before his eyes Bollenrath’s Komet comes on to the scene.

Norley throttles up. Bolenrath is not paying attention. He is preserving fuel as he prepares for another run. Then bullets zip by his field of view. “Damn it!” He pulls into an evasive maneuver and dives down for speed. Norley turns to follow. Bollenrath looks over his shoulder and sees the sight of a P-51 Mustang right on his tail, firing a deluge of bullets from his six .50 caliber machineguns.

Bollenrath knows he can outrun the Mustang, but he can’t afford to be hit, and so he turns hard to the left, escaping the Mustang’s crosshairs, but, at the same time, losing speed that he needs to shake his pursuer. The Mustang keeps on with the chase, pulling with all he has to bring the crosshairs onto the target.

Bollenrath pulls hard on the stick, willing his little machine to turn as hard as possible to bleed off speed and force the Mustang to fly past. But Norley sees it coming. He predicts the Komet’s path, lines up his sights, and pulls the trigger. .50 caliber bullets arc towards Bollenrath and strike the Komet’s rear fuselage.

Bollenrath ducks in his cockpit as a wave of crackles reverberate through his little fighter, each one filling him with dread. But then they stop and the Mustang flies by over his head. This is his chance. He turns away from the enemy fighter and punches the throttle to full. “It’s time to get out of here.

” But instead of a roar, there’s an immense bang. The engine is critically damaged by the American fire, and has seized up. “No! Work, work… you have to work!” With no time to think, Bollenrath attempts to restart the engine, but it’s no use. “Work!” The Mustang turns back. Jakob sees it. There’s nothing he can do.

Norley opens fire. .50 caliber bullets tear into the small aircraft from tail to the cockpit. Flames flicker from the bullet holes in the Komet as it rolls over out of control. In the other Komet, Andreas is still fighting to escape his burning plane. “Damn it!” He pushes on the canopy, but it remains stuck.

He fights it with all his might as he feels the heat of the fire bleeding through the chair. “Come on…” He’s going to burn alive. “Move!” But then, the canopy briefly gives before getting slammed back shut. It dawns on him. It’s the wind! He grabs the controls and pulls up hard on the stick, bleeding off his speed.

He pushes open the canopy and it swings open with ease! Finally, Andreas bails from the fighter, escaping with his life. As his parachute opens, he sees the remains of Bollenrath’s Komet streaking fire, on a nose dive towards the ground. “Come on… Come on!” Andreas watches it fall. “Get out!” There’s no parachute.

Jacob Bollenrath never escaped his plane and lost his life in the battle. His was the last Komet to be shot down by a P-51 Mustang. Lieutenant Gunther Andreas, Captain Louis Norley, and Captain Fred Glover all survived the war. “Sometimes even the fastest plane of its time isn’t enough to bring those B-17s down.

Check out the story of a Luftwaffe pilot who tried to ram it, almost like kamikaze!”

When Me 163s Battled P-51s DD

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