ISBN 0-7006-0876-1
393 pages

Abbreviations; Designation and Structure of Operational Units and Commands; Equivalent Officer Ranks; Preface; Acknowledgments; photos; maps; Notes; Select Bibliography; Index

   Based strictly on the title, it would be easy to form the impression that Stopped at Stalingrad exclusively covers air operations during the battle in that city on the Volga. From the liner notes, it would appear the book covers the considerably wider matter of the Luftwaffe on the entire Eastern Front during 1942 and early 1943. In actuality Joel Hayward's outstanding new study deals with German air operations in the southern reaches of the Soviet Union—from Kharkov to the Crimea to Stalingrad to the Caucasus—from the waning days of 1941 through the first months of 1943.
   Although there have been many books on the German Russian Front offensive of 1942, none have charted the aerial component of that operation in the kind of meticulous detail presented here. And certainly none have shown such a command of the facts. Hayward compares and contrasts conclusions drawn by Generalleutnant Hermann Plocher (author of three volumes of The German Air Force Versus Russia in the post-war USAF Historical Studies series) and Red Army General Staff studies. Indeed, in the course of Stopped at Stalingrad Hayward manages to correct mistakes by Plocher, Williamson Murray, Richard Muller, Alan Clark, Mark Axworthy, Von Hardesty, David Irving, D. V. Sadarananda, and Marshal of the Soviet Union Vasili Ivanovich Chuikov.
   Although the author by necessity explains the course of the ground campaign, emphasis remains overwhelmingly on the activities of the Luftwaffe. Even so, the book begins by placing Fall Blau in perspective by reviewing Germany's perilous "Achilles' heel" of petroleum requirements and Hitler's grand strategic dreams, reiterating that "In Hitler's worldview, 'living space' did not primarily mean space for settlement as much as land and resources for economic exploitation." Despite strenuous efforts to solve the oil problem, the gap between consumption and domestic production (including natural and synthetic oil) only widened. With the advent of the Anglo-French naval blockade, Germany's primary sources of petroleum—the United States, Venezuela, and Iran—were no longer accessible. Even with substantially increased supplies from Rumania and considerable quantities of captured French reserves (especially aviation fuel), the shortfall continued to grow.
   Hayward demonstrates how the oil shortage was never far from Hitler's mind during the planning and execution of Barbarossa. By the time the invasion foundered at the gates of Moscow, the Reich was in a fuel crisis and Hitler's strategy on the Russian Front hinged on capturing the vast Caucasus oil fields. The opening chapter continues to trace how these oil fields—despite Germany's often-overlooked inability to transport significant quantities of oil (crude or refined) from the fields—shaped the planning for Fall Blau.
   Following this survey of Hitlerian economics and strategy, Hayward turns his attention to the Crimea. In three chapters (about 25% of the book) he discusses the course of Manstein's campaign there from the end of 1941 through the fall of Sevastopol, integrating the air, land, and naval aspects from German and Soviet perspectives. This is relatively unplowed ground, and Hayward cultivates it nicely. While as always he concentrates on air operations, he also discusses material such as the Black Sea naval forces of the USSR, Rumania, Bulgaria, Italy, and Germany; the interaction of seapower and airpower; Manstein's clearing of the Kerch peninsula; and the fall of Sevastopol on 1 July 1942-- accomplished in large measure due to the massive support of Wolfram Freiherr von Richthofen's Fliegerkorps VIII.

   Fliegerkorps VIII's contribution to the victory was substantial. In the corps' after-action report to Goering's command staff, dated 3 July, it claimed without exaggeration that its "unremitting fire on the city, port and airfields inflicted on the enemy the heaviest losses in men and materiel." Since 2 June, the air corps, including Wild's subordinate Fliegerfuehrer Sud, had conducted no fewer than 23,751 sorties and dropped 20,528 tons of bombs. Despite working ceaselessly every day, mainly in bombing missions against Soviet positions in front of the advancing infantry, but also in a wide variety of other tasks, it lost only thirty-one aircraft to flak and none to enemy fighters.

   As important as Fliegerkorps VIII was to victory in the Crimea, so are its commander's scribbled thoughts to Stopped at Stalingrad. Richthofen, who arrived in the Crimea in April 1942, maintained a personal diary. As liberally quoted here it provides a juicy, mocking, insider's look at superiors and subordinates along with a critical, hard-nosed assessment of the ongoing battles in the Soviet Union. Not only arrogant and ambitious, Richthofen was also the Luftwaffe's unrivaled close air support expert. Hayward rates him as one of the most capable German commanders of the war, and Richthofen's partnership with Manstein as the closest thing Hitler possessed to an unbeatable combination. Richthofen's leadership energized his Fliegerkorps in the same manner his pithy diary propels this account, which shifts into high gear upon his arrival. Despite the air leader's insightful words and operational brilliance, a careful examination of his success in the Crimea does not bode well for the upcoming campaign.

   It is clear, then, that Richthofen's units performed superbly and that their outstanding achievements played an essential part in the city's fall. Functioning as "flying artillery," they provided the army with an unprecedented level of tactical air support. However, this level of support was accomplished only because of a unique combination of circumstances. First, because most of the eastern front was relatively quiet in April, May (except for the short-lived Soviet offensive at Kharkov), and most of June, Richthofen had been given a strong air force at a high level of operational readiness. Second, this powerful force faced weak aerial opposition in the Crimea. As a result, both air and flak units could commence army support operations without having first to wage a time-consuming and costly battle for air superiority and then spend a considerable number of sorties on escort and protection operations. Third, almost the entire force was deployed against a single target (although it was, of course, extremely strong). Finally, it operated against that target from well-prepared airstrips in the immediate vicinity, which allowed a very high number of missions to be conducted each day.
   This remarkably favorable set of circumstances existed nowhere during Operation Blau, the coming summer campaign. In contrast, Luftwaffe forces would soon be dissipated along the eastern front and even within the southern campaign zone itself. They encountered increasingly powerful VVS forces, which cost them time, effort, and high losses. They also often had to operate from poorly prepared airfields, sometimes far from their targets, which were widely scattered over a vast area. The Luftwaffe's close air support level reached a peak at Sevastopol, and it would not be equaled in the coming push toward the Caucasus oil fields.

   Before proceeding to Fall Blau, Hayward reviews Timoshenko's May offensive against Kharkov which required heavy Luftwaffe reinforcements—from the Crimea, among other sources—for the Germans to repel the assault and then launch their own attack. The Soviet defeat opened the way for Fall Blau, for which Richthofen would again play a leading role (as commander of Fliegerkorps VIII and then Luftflotte 4) and his personal diary again provides astringent insights.

   While inspecting Axis positions three days earlier, troops of the German 387th Infantry Division had mistakenly opened fire on his little aircraft, wounding his copilot, puncturing the fuel tank, and filling his plane with holes. After making an emergency landing, he sent the commander of the division involved a letter "thanking" his men for their efforts. "While it is a delight to see the fighting spirit of the German ground troops against aircraft," he sarcastically wrote, "may I request that these troops direct their fighting spirit against the Red Air Force." After pointing out that visibility was excellent and his aircraft was clearly marked, he added that "perhaps their gunfire was intended to be an ovation of greeting, in which case permit the commander of the VIII. Fliegerkorps to express his gratitude for it and, at the same time, encourage them that similar greetings should in future be carried out with blank cartridges." His diary entry for that day is far more blunt. Well aware that he had escaped death by the closest shave, he angrily scrawled: "Damned dogs! They don't fire at the Russians, but at our Storch!"

   For Fall Blau, the book first devotes a chapter to the air support by Kurt Pflugbeil's Fliegerkorps IV (another component of Luftflotte 4) of Army Group A's drive into the Caucasus. Although Richthofen intended to mold this air corps into the same kind of well-oiled close air support machine as Fliegerkorps VIII, the vast distances, widely separately spearheads, and limited resources prevented a repeat of the overwhelming air successes the Luftwaffe had scored in the Crimea. By mid-August 1942 most of Pflugbeil's units had been expropriated for support of the assault on Stalingrad and the Soviets gradually established air superiority over the Caucasus, greatly assisting the blunting of Army Group A's offensive. On occasion, however, Richthofen was still able to temporarily concentrate bombers in the south.

   On 10 October, Richthofen hurled his entire bomber fleet against the Grozny refineries. That fleet, like those of the other aircraft types, was now in poor shape. He had started Operation Blau with an impressive force of 480 bombers, of which 323 (a reasonable 67 percent) were serviceable. Now he had only 232 bombers, of which a mere 129 (55 percent) were serviceable. They could still deliver heavy blows to single targets, however. The damage they inflicted on Grozny reminded the air chief of attacks on Sevastopol; huge flames leapt from shattered fuel tanks and burst pipes, and dense clouds of smoke rose high into the air. He was delighted, joyfully noting in his diary the following evening that smoke clouds were still 5,500 meters high. He repeated the attacks two days later, with equally pleasing results. These raids on oil refineries, though, marked the sum total of Luftflotte 4's "strategic" attacks on enemy industry in the Caucasus. Richthofen simply could not spare aircraft from the Stalingrad sector to carry out further raids (against the major oil fields at Baku, for example, which Hitler ordered a month later). It is remarkable that the Wehrmacht High Command did not order the temporary release of all, or at least most, bombers from Stalingrad for these attacks on oil fields. Their extensive damage (particularly Baku's) would have dealt the Soviet Union a far heavier blow than the loss of Stalingrad's remaining suburbs. When Richthofen managed to send squadrons south—not often, because of the intensity of combat in Stalingrad and the perceived importance of continued bombing raids on that already destroyed city—they carried out a small number of interdiction raids on Soviet road, rail, and sea traffic but mainly supported the two German armies by attacking the enemy on the battlefield and his rear areas.

   Richthofen agreed with Fiebig: it was madness for Paulus and his staff to plan an all-around defense of Stalingrad and pin its hopes on the Luftwaffe to sustain their army. The air force simply lacked the ability to keep it supplied. "Sixth Army believes that it will be supplied by the air fleet in its hedgehog positions," Richthofen complained to his diary on 21 November. "I make every effort to convince it that this cannot be accomplished, because the necessary transport resources are not available." During "dreadfully many telephone calls...until late in the night," he frantically warned everyone who would listen—including Goering in Berlin, Zeitzler in East Prussia, Jeschonnek at Berchtesgaden, and Weichs at Army Group B headquarters—that he lacked the means to supply Paulus's army.

   Hayward explains the process leading to Hitler's decision—made despite the opposition of every Luftwaffe commander in the field, Jeschonnek's opinion (after he reversed his earlier, off-the-cuff support), and Goering's blind, groundless optimism—to order 6th Army to stand fast and to commence a massive airlift to keep it supplied. He lays the blame for the decision to supply Stalingrad by air at the feet of Jeschonnek (for his initial, unconsidered assent), Goering (for overall ignorance and incompetence), and most of all Hitler (who made the decision, without the facts, even before receiving Goering's baseless assurances). To the bleak tale is added the telling detail that Goering, rather than working to organize the airlift, journeyed by his private train to France where he spent several days "...visiting Parisian art dealers and galleries." As usual, Hayward corrects several earlier accounts of the conferences and decision-making process. He also calculates that Stalingrad required at least 800 Ju 52 aircraft for supply while the entire Luftwaffe possessed only 750 of the machines.
   The forces of nature conspired to reduce even the best-organized airlift efforts: fog, low cloud, snow, ice, cold, and wind hampered flight operations and on many days brought operations to a standstill. Nor did the VVS cooperate. Well aware of the precarious supply line, Soviet aircraft intercepted helpless transports and attacked the vulnerable airfields inside the pocket while flak batteries hammered away at Ju 52s. By comparison, though, the Soviet air force was little more than a nuisance: "In fact, crashes during takeoff and landing, especially during the latter, destroyed more transport planes than the VVS fighters and Shturmoviks attempting to create an 'air blockade'." Hayward lays out the inevitable failure of the airlift, quoting orders and conferences, measuring strengths and serviceability rates, counting flights and tonnages, citing losses and casualties.
   Although fully aware they could not be successful, Richthofen and his subordinates strove mightily to do all they could. Regardless, Hitler in January dispatched Generalfeldmarschall Erhard Milch to assume responsibility for overall coordination of the airlift. Before he could arrive, Pitomnik, the main airfield in the pocket, fell, further crippling operations. Of his arrival, Richthofen wrote "Nothing would delight me more than Milch should chance upon the philosopher's stone which our supreme authorities apparently believe is lying around somewhere. We certainly haven't been able to find it."

   The airlift had certainly gone poorly during the first sixteen days of 1943, with only 2,325 tons of supplies reaching the encircled army, an average of 145 tons per day. During that period, however, Fiebig and Richthofen had displayed strength, talent, and resourcefulness as they struggled to master one crisis after another, not least among them being the loss of Tatsinskaya and Morozovskaya, their main airlift bases; the inferior quality of Salsk and Novocherkassk, the improvised replacement fields; he eventual loss of Salsk and the transfer of their main transport groups to a hastily constructed base built on a cornfield; and finally, the loss of Pitomnik, the only properly equipped airfield within the pocket. Therefore, even though Fiebig and Richthofen managed to airlift only 145 tons of supplies to Sixth Army each day, less than half of what the army needed, they were convinced that this was the maximum possible under the circumstances. They felt sure that Milch could do no better, unless he brought the philosopher's stone with him.

   Milch was soon injured—stitches in his head, broken ribs—when his staff car collided with a moving train but he resolutely attempted to improve the Luftwaffe's performance. Despite this energy, the situation was too far gone for even his not insignificant administrative skills. Hayward describes his successes as well as his errors and failures; the saga of the gliders (and the way they preempted adequate personnel shelters from arriving at improvised cornfield airfields) reveals much about the Generalfeldmarschall.
   Regardless of who controlled the airlift, sufficient tonnages could not be delivered. The Soviets battered the pocket and split it into smaller pieces while the defenders starved and shivered, until finally, inevitably, Paulus surrendered his army.
   By the time the city fell, Luftflotte 4 had been whittled away to nothing. Hayward sketches its story far enough into 1943 to show the results of Richthofen's adroit rehabilitation of his air fleet as it renders invaluable support of Manstein's masterly "backhand blow" offensive. He also describes the lesser-known airlift operation coming immediately on the heels of Stalingrad: supply of German forces which had retreated into the Kuban bridgehead. With a stable front, suitable airfields, and milder weather, Fliegerkorps VIII was able to lift a daily average of 500 tons of fuel, ammunition, and food into the Kuban-- more than enough to have filled the needs of 6th Army at Stalingrad.
   In his conclusion, Hayward expands his earlier remarks about the Luftwaffe's role in achieving the strategic aims of Fall Blau:

   Fliegerkorps VIII performed well against its primary target, Stalingrad, pounding it into rubble during heavy raids, but its continued bombardment of the ruins in accordance with Hitler's insistence that every street be cleared of the enemy led to a great waste of resources. For two months, Fiebig's units rained hundreds of tons of bombs on the ruins each day, turning small heaps of large rubble into large heaps of small rubble, but achieving nothing substantial. This was neither Fiebig's or Richthofen's fault. Hitler wanted Stalingrad taken, and he insisted that all efforts be directed to that end. Even after he realized that the oil fields could not be gained in 1942 and ordered Richthofen to destroy them from the air, he still insisted that the destruction and capture of Stalingrad remained his highest priority. Thus, the air fleet commander was unable to commit strong bomber forces to the destruction of the oil fields. In fact, he could only temporarily reduce the bombardment of Stalingrad and send bomber forces south when bad weather at Stalingrad curtailed operations there. Even then, he lacked sufficient bombers to conduct major raids against the most important installations. As a result, although he occasionally inflicted substantial damage on a few refineries and oil fields, particularly at Grozny, he never succeeded in crippling Soviet oil production.
   With the benefit of hindsight, it is now reasonable to argue that Richthofen's air fleet could have dealt the Soviet economy a major blow, from which it would have taken at least several months to recover, if it had unloaded as many bombs on Baku as on Stalingrad. Heavy damage to that oil metropolis, which alone accounted for 80 percent of all Soviet production, was possible during August and September. Richthofen still possessed a strong bomber force and airfields within striking range, and the VVS's presence in the Caucasus was still relatively weak. By October, when Hitler finally ordered attacks on oil fields, Richthofen's bomber fleet was much reduced and most forward airfields had been badly damaged by VVS forces, which were now far stronger. The opportunity had been missed.

   Admirable though the book is, there are a few areas which could be improved. The introductory chapter, while not without considerable value, feels somewhat disconnected from the main topic. Likewise, the opening chapters seem rather disjointed and plagued by some difficulty getting the narrative up to speed. The bane of many military histories, the maps are too few and too small and don't always show localities mentioned in the text. Despite providing numbers for serviceability, sorties, bomb tonnages, aircraft destroyed, targets hit, etc, the narrative is surprisingly inexact on the identification of air units involved, often referring ambiguously to, for example, "two groups of 27th Bomber Wing." (Although writing of "Fliegerkorps" and "Luftflotten", Hayward uses "wings, groups, and squadrons" rather than "Geschwader, Gruppen, and Staffeln".) It would have been useful to see more explicit OB data—particularly in charts with unit IDs, commanders' names, aircraft models and quantities, etc—as well as more extensive statistical summaries in tabular format. Finally, a number of uneven passages prove Hayward still needs to sharpen his writing skills to match his talents as a researcher.
   Those quibbles can't detract from the book's overall quality, however. Once rolling and invigorated by Richthofen's memorable diary with its insights, pot-shots, one-liners, and tantrums, Stopped at Stalingrad proves itself a thorough, scholarly treatment of the under-reported subject of German air operations on the road to Stalingrad. Recommended. One of the best of the year?
   Available from online booksellers, local bookshops, or directly from University Press of Kansas.
   Thanks to UPK for providing this review copy.