Up to this point, we have seen the machines.

The men were but small faceless figures in khaki.

Now, we have a GI who could have been identified by his mom. There is not much we can say about him specifically -- we can the aircraft -- but not him.  The machine can be described in detail and offer much on which to speculate -- but the man? We can contemplate on the man generally; when we cannot particularly. We will do this a little in the last photos.

In these attempts to recognize every nut and bolt of an admirable aircraft, I do not want to lose sight of the admirable Man, the Hero, I have written so much about other places.  Though the aircraft is a reflection of a lot of men's ingenuity, science, and art, it is strangely more than that. We talk to such machines, and we name them, and we "love" them, but they are at their best -- and worst -- mere tools of the Man at war.

As this GI looks at the instrument panel of an aircraft he might have only seen previously flying overhead, we can see that his helmet looks clean.  For warmth, he is wearing a knit cap under the helmet. He looks well-enough fed, his uniform is clean, and his weapon is covered and over his shoulder. He expects no combat in the immediate future but he keeps the weapon at hand just the same.

The aircraft he is interested in is an Me-109G (most likely a G-6 of Schwarze 28+J training unit)  and we get a good look at the big Daimler-Benz 605D with methanol/water boost. After 1942, this was the dominant model and represents 70% of the 34,080 Me-109s delivered to the Luftwaffe.

This aircraft could fly at 428 mph at 25,000' but still climb on up to 41,500'. Just as impressively, from a standing start, it could be at 20,000' in 6 minutes.

But this performance came at a terrific price -- without external fuel tanks, it had a maximum range only 350 miles. This would be one hour for take off, climb, vectoring to the target, locating it, gaining a position for the attack, and then there would be some fuel reserve needed for enemy fighter evasion – what was left could be used for the actual attack on bombers.

These bombers were non-evasive targets, but if it was fighter-against-fighter, during an attack, the Me-109G pilot must have kept one eye on the enemy and gun-sight and the other eye on the fuel gauge. When the external tanks were added, it lost a lot of its superior performance.  Yet, in 1935, this airframe with a 635 hp engine had first seen combat flying in the Legion Kondor of the Spanish Civil War.

This photo provides a good view of bad landing gear design. From the C-model to the last K-model, the landing characteristic was described as "malicious," however, it was the design of the landing gear that kept the weight down by keeping the heaviest structure where structure had to be anyway.

Looking at the photo and starting from left, what can we see?

First, is the dropped slat on the right wing but the left wing slat appears to be up. I will say more about this later.

The tear-drop shaped static balance weight for the right aileron is seen and I have said enough about those.

The right wing flap is down while the left is up; this is improper.

The blast shield for the nose cannon has been removed but it would have been to remove the prop.

Obvious is the oil tank around the inside of the engine nacelle.  Its filler cap access is hanging open at the nacelle side.

The first major structure at the top behind the nacelle is the crankcase cover. Remember, this is an inverted V-12. Muffler-looking thing is the coolant header tank. Over the exhaust is simple, flat sheet metal bent to block the light from exhaust flames from the pilot's eyes. This bright light would limit the pilot's night vision.

Just above header tank is a dark circular piece -- this is a vibration isolator between engine and engine mount, the mount is obvious running back to the fire wall at the top side, another arm goes below the large opening.  This opening is the supercharger intake and if you look at almost any Me-109 photo you can see the cowling for this. Its shape aids in identifying the model. The shiny triangular piece on the motor mount is the self-regulator for the waste gate of the supercharger and two cables can be seen going into the supercharger.

The air-scoop under the cowling is where the oil cooler is located.  The writing on the lower cowling is a notice informing ground personnel that the oil cooler is attached to that section of cowling -- meaning that they would not free only a formed sheet of aluminum but rather, they would let a heavy, oil-filled cooler vigorously swing down and possibly injure someone and perhaps even damage flexible oil lines or fittings.

I see the ammunition feed chutes to the cowling guns but I see no guns.

The bulge at the top of the fuselage just at the cowling edge was to clear the cannons mounted to fire over the engine. These bulges, one on each side, is the most identifiable feature of the Me-109G.

There is a small hatch (closed) just in front of each side of the canopy and this gives access to the back of the instrument panel.

Some Plexiglas is broken from the aft canopy, and the radio direction-finder loop can be seen.

There are miscellaneous things lying around, none of which I recognize.  Note the shiny black thing on ground at right side of fuselage. I cannot find this in any cut-away drawing or photograph of an Me-109.

The white piece near the left wheel looks like it could be a wheel chock but it has a little fork and wheel on it. (Did the Germans put wheels on everything? The wheels probably had ball bearings.)

I might mention that there are many things more apparent in the photos that I use for this research. Also, I can alter the black and white densities to make some things visible that would otherwise be lost in deep shadows. These described features in the Image du Jours can be seen when looking at the actual photos but may be a little vague in the image.

There are a couple of things not often mentioned in connection with this aircraft.

First is that when the Me-109 was originally placed into combat, it had a two-stage supercharger and fuel injection, something the Spitfire and Hurricane did not have for a while. Galland and most other pilots of Me-109s commented on this.  The early Spitfires and Hurricanes had standard carburetors and did not handle negative g well. Of course, the Me-109 pilots knew this and capitalized on it.

If a Spitfire was on their tail, the stick was pushed forward to pull negative g. The Spitfire engine would sag and the pilot would do a quick half-roll and "get his engine back."  Now that the Spitfire was back with positive g, the Me-109 pilot pulled on the stick a little and the Spitfire had to roll back to vertical.

None of this was conducive to accurate flying or shooting. And we know that every time an aircraft control surface is moved, aerodynamic drag is induced. Pilots do not want additional drag while trying to over-take another aircraft. This was, at its best, a distraction for the British pilots; at the worse, bad news.  Me-109 pilots could ignore this condition and know their engines would perform equally well in any attitude because of its fuel injection.

The Spitfires had a very efficient wing while the Me-109 wing was not nearly as "clean," but it had something just as good -- maybe better -- slats. It is interesting that the first good performing Me-109s used American variable pitch props and British slats.

Slats were on the wings of many aircraft in those days and were basically "pneumatically driven."  When flying at a "proper" angle of attack the slat stayed closed to the leading edge by air pressure, but as the angle-of-attack increased, the air striking the underside of the slat and turbulating over the top, would force the slat forward and away from the leading edge. This would create a slot between back of slat and front of wing leading edge. Some air would channel through this slot and be directed by the back of the slat over the top of the wing. This produced lift when a similar airfoil, but one without slats, would have lost lift, stalled a wing, and the aircraft would fall off to that side.

This was a convenience for landings but it saved lives in combat because some of the highest angles-of-attack the aircraft flew were in tight combat turns.

The nature of the slat is that it would operate independently as needed and in whatever amount was needed; right wing during this turn, left wing during that turn, and both wings might have different amounts at the top of a stall turn, etc.

The top edge of the slat had to slide closely (but not touching) the upper surface of the leading edge. This top edge was a single thickness of aluminum and could get dented easily.

It was a part of pre-flight inspection procedures to shove a palm against the leading edge to make sure the slat was free. They often just hung down by their own weight.

If it was stuck, it was pulled down (by hand) and the small dent would be located and straightened with a pair of pliers. Ground personnel around aircraft with slots had pliers in their pockets.

During the war, Czechs were building Me-109s and after the war they built them as the S-99 until they ran out of DB-605 engines. Then they installed a slow-turning Junkers Jumo and called it the S-199; the pilots called it "Mezak" (Mule).  They managed to sell a few "Mezaks" to Israel.

In March 1945, Spain, "under license" (to whom, I wonder) built Me-109s as their 1109 with the Hispano engine, but in 1953 switched over to Merlins.

(This is interesting because the 109 was designed for a Rolls-Royce engine but obviously never fought with one, yet, in the end, 109s did get Rolls-Royce engines -- and Merlins, yet!)

Spain built several versions of Hispano and Merlin 109s and some were tandem-seat trainers.

When the last 109 (HA-1112) flew out of Seville in 1956, it ended 21 years of manufacture and the end of a 35,000 production run.

In 1935, the Me-109 was the best fighter aircraft in the world. Ten years later, it was still a formidable combat aircraft. 

Ken Cashion