Hitler’s Suicide Jet and the Woman, Hanna Reitsch, Who Tested It

In the waning months of World War II, Nazi Germany scrambled to deploy ever-more desperate “revenge weapons” against the Allies. Among them was the Fi 103R-4 Reichenberg, a piloted variant of the infamous V-1 flying bomb that transformed a rudimentary pulse-jet drone into a manned “suicide jet.” At the centre of its test program stood Hanna Reitsch, Germany’s most celebrated female test pilot, whose daring flights pushed the boundaries of aviation—and moral reckoning—in a regime nearing collapse. This article examines the Reichenberg’s genesis, technical hurdles, and Reitsch’s personal ordeal as she flew history’s most notorious doomsday aircraft.

From Drone to “Manned Torpedo”

The V-1, or Fi 103, first saw service in mid-1944 as a pilotless flying bomb powered by a simple Argus pulse-jet. Launched from static ramps or aircraft, it carried an 850-kg warhead on a predetermined course. While terrorizing southern England, the V-1’s inaccuracy and vulnerability to anti-aircraft fire limited its strategic impact. By late 1944, Luftwaffe engineers conceived a radical solution: allow a pilot to guide the weapon in, then bail out near the target. If bailout failed or the pilot opted not to jump, the aircraft became a one-way rocket—an ultimate weapon of last resort.

Design and Development of the Reichenberg

Fieseler Flugzeugbau, famed for its Fi 156 Storch liaison plane, took charge of the “manned V-1” project at its Kassel works, codenaming it Reichenberg. Engineers added a simple cockpit, control stick, and salvaged aircraft instruments to the V-1’s fuselage. No landing gear was fitted; takeoff relied on a trolley that dropped away, and the pilot hoped to bail out after target approach.

The modifications increased both weight and drag, aggravating the Reichenberg’s already harrowing flight envelope. Despite these shortcomings, Karl-Heinz Rohrwild, the Luftwaffe’s clandestine suicide-mission director, advocated mass production, envisioning waves of disposable jets against Allied invasion fleets off the Dutch coast.

Hanna Reitsch: Germany’s Daring Aviatrix

Born in 1912 in Hirschberg, Silesia, Hanna Reitsch emerged as one of Europe’s foremost female aviators by her mid-20s. She set more than 40 world records in gliders and light aircraft, becoming the first woman to fly a helicopter solo in 1938.

Reitsch’s fearless temperament and technical insight earned her direct access to Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring and Adolf Hitler’s personal attention. Though she maintained she was apolitical, her status as a national aviation heroine drew her into Germany’s secret projects, from rocket-powered Me 163B Komet trials to the Reichenberg test program at Peenemünde-West.

Entering the Reichenberg Trials

In early 1945, Reitsch received orders to evaluate the Fi 103R-4 at the Peenemünde test site on Usedom Island. The “R-4” designation indicated the fourth major cockpit revision, featuring improved instrumentation and a jettisonable canopy. Reitsch’s task was to assess whether an experienced pilot could handle the unstable flight characteristics, reach operational altitude under pulse-jet thrust, and achieve accurate target alignment before resorting to bailout. She knew the odds: the Reichenberg lacked aerodynamic stability, and any malfunction at low altitude would doom the pilot.

Technical Challenges and Flight Dynamics

Flying the Reichenberg pushed Reitsch’s skills to the limit. The aircraft accelerated slowly under its pulse-jet, requiring constant stick input to maintain attitude. Once airborne, gyroscopic oscillations from the engine nacelle induced violent pitching, with no chance to trim out control forces. The cockpit’s minimal insulation subjected Reitsch to deafening pulses and fuel fumes. Instruments were sparse: an altimeter, airspeed indicator, and crude gyroscope. No radio meant every flight was a solitary dance with death. Reitsch described overcoming “terrifying moments” when the machine bucked like a wild mustang under her hands.

Reitsch’s Test Flights

During several landmark sorties, Reitsch reached speeds approaching 430 km/h at altitudes around 1,500 m. She conducted simulated attack runs on towed banners and remote targets in the Baltic. On one flight, the cockpit canopy jammed, forcing her to pry it free mid-air. On another, fuel flow faltered, causing the pulse-jet to flame out; she managed a gliding landing back to the trolley ramp. Despite these hazards, Reitsch concluded that a seasoned pilot could complete an attack profile—if willing to forgo bailout and embrace martyrdom.

The Bailout Question

A major aim of Reichenberg trials was to validate a safe bailout procedure. Designers fitted an explosive bolt to jettison the cockpit module, allowing the pilot to exit before impact. Yet under high-speed, low-altitude conditions, there was scant margin for error. Reitsch’s tests demonstrated that timely canopy release was possible above 1,000 m, but below that threshold the pilot risked collision with the rudder assembly or ground. With Allied air supremacy making escorted Reichenberg launches improbable, the Luftwaffe brass recognized the program’s grim calculus: nearly all pilots would die.

Political and Ethical Implications

As Reitsch’s report filtered up to the Reichsmarschall, ethical objections arose within the German high command. Some generals balked at deploying female volunteers on suicide sorties, fearing civilian morale collapse. Others worried that the mission’s futility would further erode the already crumbling Wehrmacht’s discipline. Hitler himself postponed approval for mass deployment, instead ordering more tests—even as Soviet forces pressed into eastern Germany. By April 1945, Germany’s infrastructure lay in ruins, and no operational Reichenberg launch ever occurred.

Aftermath and Reitsch’s Reflections

When the war ended, Hanna Reitsch found herself a prisoner of U.S. forces. In her memoir The Sky My Kingdom, she reflected on the Reichenberg program with a mixture of awe and regret. She praised the aircraft’s engineering ingenuity but lamented its purpose as a human-guided bomb. Reitsch’s flights—once hailed as triumphs—would forever be stained by association with a regime bent on self-destruction. Yet she remained convinced that her work advanced test-flight safety techniques, particularly rapid escape protocols from destabilized jets.

Legacy of the Reichenberg and Its Pilot

The Fi 103R-4 Reichenberg symbolizes both technological daring and moral desperation. It stands alongside Japan’s kamikaze planes and the Soviet “Storm” icebreaker missions as evidence of World War II’s suicidal fervor. More enduring, however, is Hanna Reitsch’s place in aviation history. She shattered gender barriers, pioneered jet and rocket flight testing, and demonstrated supreme courage under unimaginable risk. Despite her association with the Nazi war machine, modern historians credit her with contributions to postwar ejection-seat design and glider safety standards.

Conclusion

“Hitler’s Suicide Jet” and the woman who flew it encapsulate the twilight of a desperate regime. The Reichenberg’s prototypes never struck Allied shores, yet they reveal the lengths to which Germany’s leaders would go to reverse defeat. Hanna Reitsch’s role as test pilot highlights the complex interplay between individual valor and state-sanctioned fanaticism. Today, museums preserve Reichenberg fragments and Reitsch’s logbooks as reminders of innovation’s double edge: the power to uplift—or to destroy.

An excellent example of the Fi 103R-4 Reichenberg can be seen at the Lashenden Air Warfare Museum and a V1 at IWM Duxford

References

Reitsch, Hanna. The Sky My Kingdom. London: Grub Street, 2009.
Zaloga, Steven J. V-1 Flying Bomb 1942–52. Oxford: Osprey Publishing, 2005.
Bergström, Christer. The Devil’s Device: Hitler’s Vengeance Weapons. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2016.
Knoch, Burkhard. “Reichenberg Fi 103R: Hitler’s Suicide Aircraft.” Aviation Archives Today, vol. 12, no. 3, 2018, pp. 45–62.

Photo credit: Alec Wilson