FLYING THE Bf 109: Two pilots give their reports

The Bf 109 is, without a doubt, the most satisfying and challenging aircraft I have ever flown. So how does it fly and how does it compare with other WW II fighters?

- MARK HANNA AND CAPT. ERIC BROWN

To my eye, the aircraft looks dangerous, both to the enemy and to its own pilots. Its “difficult” reputation is well-known, and right from the outset, you are aware that it needs to be treated with a great deal of respect.

As you walk up to the 109, you are at first struck by its small size, particularly if it is parked next to a contemporary American fighter. Closer examination reveals a crazy-looking, knock-kneed undercarriage, a very heavily framed, sideways-opening canopy with almost no forward view in the three-point attitude, a long rear fuselage and tiny tail surfaces.

A walk around reveals ingenious split radiator flaps and ailerons with a lot of movement and rather odd-looking external mass balances. It also has independently operating leading-edge slats. These devices should glide open and shut on the ground with the pressure of a single finger. Other unusual features include the horizontal stabilizer that doubles as the elevator trimmer and the complete absence of a rudder trim system. Overall, the finish is a strange mix of the innovative and archaic.

To enter the cockpit, you climb on board and gently lower yourself downward and forward while holding on to the windscreen. Once inside, you are almost lying down, as you would be if driving a racecar. The cockpit is narrow, and if you have broad shoulders (don’t all fighter pilots?), it is a tight squeeze. Once strapped in—itself a knuckle-rapping affair—you can take stock.

First impressions are of its simplicity. From left to right, the co-located elevator trim and flap trim wheels fall easily to hand. You need several turns to get the flaps fully down to 10 degrees, and the idea is that you can crank both together. In practice, this is a little difficult, and I tend to operate them independently.