About French twin-engine bombers

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About French twin-engine bombers

This is the beginning of a series of articles about French bombers of World War II. Initially, I wanted to limit myself to a story about the Breguet 462 bomber project, but I thought that it would be too much of a stretch. story A non-production design will be of little interest to anyone. Furthermore, one article called this aircraft a missed opportunity for the French bomber force. aviation, and I completely agree with this assessment. But then we need to explain the state of this aviation, i.e., talk about the bombers that were in service with the French Air Force at the start of World War II.

If we exclude light single- and twin-engine bombers, the heavy four-engine Farman 221/222/223, and the hastily acquired American aircraft, we are left with twin-engine horizontal bombers with a takeoff weight of 6-12 tons. In other words, how did France, a great aviation power during World War I (at the time, it supplied aircraft to all its allies, including Great Britain and the United States), come to this point?




Breguet 462 - second prototype

French pre-war bombers can be roughly divided into three categories: those that weren't withdrawn from service (i.e., the Amiot 143, Bloch MB 200, and MB 210); those that entered service but didn't replace the first group (the Lioré et Olivier LeO 451 and Amiot 351/354); and those that never should have entered service (the Potez 540/542 and Bloch MB 131). This explains why the Breguet 462 was a missed opportunity.

I want to point out that, like the LN 161 fighter (which was much better than the MS 406), the Breguet 690 twin-engine fighter (better than the Potez 631), or any other aircraft, it wasn't a magic wand and wouldn't have fundamentally changed anything, only caused additional problems for the Luftwaffe and Wehrmacht. But before discussing specific aircraft, it's important to at least briefly discuss the environment in which they were developed. That is, the economic, political, technical, and organizational factors.

The economic factor is, first and foremost, the unprecedented economic crisis of 1930-1933. In Germany, this crisis became a springboard for Hitler, allowing him to legally come to power in 1933. And within a year, it became clear that the Nazis' only goal was revenge. It would seem that France, as a close neighbor, should have dramatically accelerated its own rearmament. It did, but, as subsequent events showed, not enough.

One of the consequences of the crisis was the persistent underfunding of the military industrial sector. Until 38–39 (when it was too late), all finance ministers, with rare consistency and regardless of party affiliation, treated aircraft manufacturers as importunate beggars—trying to sign contracts early and pay them later, with devalued currency. Worse still, such early orders sometimes led to the selection of a less-than-ideal design, as was the case with the MB 131. Later, even nationalized enterprises suffered from such funding.

The situation was even worse in related industries—that is, the design and production of engines, propellers, instruments, and other equipment. They mostly relied on licenses, as was the case with the Jupiter, Titan, Wright R-975, and Wright Cyclone R-1820 engines, and Hamilton-Standard variable-pitch propellers. The most sophisticated instruments, such as Sperry artificial horizons, altimeters, and Jaeger autopilots, had to be purchased directly from the United States. The United States also suffered from the crisis, and perhaps even more so, as light aircraft, already quite developed in the United States, were the first to be hit. However, they did not skimp on aviation development, and the American aviation industry recovered fairly quickly.

The political factor also requires a detailed explanation. While dictatorial regimes consolidated in Germany and Italy, political crisis was a constant feature of France in the 1930s. The far right believed that Hitler was better than Stalin, while the left, of course, believed the exact opposite. The usual democratic squabble for power became intertwined with the proletariat's struggle for rights, led by trade unions.

In the spring of 1936, an alliance of leftist forces, including communists, known as the Popular Front, won the elections. By May, mass strikes had already begun, accompanied by factory occupations—apparently, with complete acquiescence to the police. It was, in fact, workers in the aviation industry who initiated these strikes.

In the summer of 1936, the so-called Matignon Agreements were concluded between the Confederation of Employers and the General Confederation of Labour, essentially on the latter's terms. Among other things, a 40-hour workweek and mandatory annual leave were established. True, even then, an English aviation worker worked 48 hours a week, plus 10 hours overtime, a German worker up to 60 hours, and even an Italian worker 56 hours, despite a much larger workforce. But social justice had been established.

But if anyone thought that the French proletariat would work harder after achieving its just demands, they were mistaken. Quite the opposite. This, of course, also applied to workers in the aviation industry, who benefited most from the Matignon Agreements, primarily from higher wages. The concept of "meme" hadn't yet been invented, but the cleaning lady in the office of an aircraft factory effectively became a meme. Because this cleaning lady earned more than a skilled worker in other industries. Only in the fall of 1938 did the government begin to "tighten the screws," including the dismissal of union activists (who were usually later rehired, but their tenure was interrupted, thus precluding their election to union office), and this finally led to a near-doubling of labor productivity, along with a simultaneous improvement in product quality.

Regarding technical factors, the early 30s could be said to be the time when new aircraft ceased to be seen as modernizations of World War I-era aircraft. The famous American Martin bomber, the Martin B-10, became a benchmark for bomber designers worldwide. Its design began in 1931, the prototype made its maiden flight the following January, and serial production began in 1934.

It was this ungainly-looking bomber, at least its production variants, that incorporated all the latest innovations in aircraft engineering. It was a twin-engine, all-metal monoplane with active skin and advanced wing mechanization, landing gear that retracted into the engine nacelles, enclosed cockpits, and shielded turrets. The engines were enclosed in NACA cowlings and equipped with variable-pitch propellers (although the latter may have appeared somewhat later). The Martin Bomber also featured the famous Norden M-1 gunsight and navigational aids that were highly sophisticated for the time. Soviet specialists, who purchased a prototype of the aircraft for evaluation purposes, were surprised to discover that it had already been manufactured using the plasma-template method in the early 30s.


The famous Martin bomber, i.e. Martin B-10

The organizational factor was the creation of the Air Force in April 1933 as a separate branch of the armed forces, independent of the ground forces (the Ministry of Aviation itself had been established in 1928); however, naval aviation remained under the command of the Naval Staff. Naturally, the Air Force Staff began to develop new bomber aviation development programs for its own purposes.

Let me clarify right away: the programs existed in a vacuum; virtually no aircraft accepted into service fully complied with any of them. A design could be rejected for noncompliance with the program, or an aircraft could be accepted into service that didn't fit into any of them at all. Nevertheless, it's worth outlining at least some of these programs, including previous ones, starting from 1928, to gain a general understanding of the customer's thinking and the conditions under which the designers worked.

— The 1928 M4 program was a multi-seat combat aircraft program to replace the LeO 20 biplane bombers, which had just entered service, and the Farman F.60 (which, by contrast, was a veteran aircraft, having first flown in 1919). It's unclear whether the initial plan was to create a purely night bomber, but ultimately, the Amiot 143, developed under this program, could only be used as a night bomber. In fact, the only requirements for a night bomber at the time were ease of piloting, especially on takeoff and landing, and sophisticated (for the time, of course) navigation equipment. At the same time, speed and ceiling requirements were reduced.


Amiot 143 was still in use in May 1940. According to some sources, it had the unofficial nickname Bus.

The 1930 BN5 program called for a five-seat night bomber. The final product, oddly enough, was the four-seat day bomber Marcel Bloch MB 200. However, the heavy four-engine night bomber Farman F 221 was also accepted into service, albeit in small numbers (articles about the MB 200 refer to the 1932 program, but it's likely that only clarifications were made then).
 
— The M4 1933, also known as the BCR (bombardment, combat, renseignement), which can be translated as "bombardment, (air) combat, i.e., escort fighter, reconnaissance" — the program was launched in October 1933. The BCR was to be a twin-engine aircraft weighing between 5 and 7 tons with defensive armament consisting of three small-caliber machine guns mounted in three turrets to avoid blind spots and theoretically provide all-round defense (fighter version). The required maximum speed was 350 km/h at an altitude of 4000 m, a combat load of 500 to 1000 kg (bomber version), and a range of 1300 km. In addition, the aircraft was to carry radio and photographic equipment (reconnaissance version). The crew was to consist of 4-5 people.

Essentially, this was a copy of the idea of ​​the Italian General Giulio Douhet for an air cruiser capable of independently performing all three roles. Naturally, a fleet of such cruisers would have been much cheaper than specialized aircraft. Moreover, in the spirit of Douhet's officially unacknowledged theory, it was assumed that aerial bombardment could crush the enemy's military and economic potential and its will to resist. Reconnaissance could then be conducted for the benefit of the ground forces; in fact, the ground generals demanded nothing less from the Air Force. Of course, today the idea of ​​a multirole aircraft seems inherently flawed, but back then, it could have been assumed that the performance penalty wouldn't be critical in any role, and that the cost savings, on the contrary, would be significant. The Potez 540/542 fulfilled this program, albeit only tentatively.
 
— BR3 1933 (Bombardement de représailles—which can be translated as retaliatory bombing). That is, a three-seat bomber designed to attack targets deep in enemy territory. The official program specified: "A partially protected aircraft with a maximum speed of over 400 km/h and capable of carrying 500 kg of bombs at a distance of 1500 km from its base, with a cruising speed of 380 km/h." Partially protected meant that turrets were no longer required to provide a 360° field of fire in the upper and lower hemispheres. The bomber was supposed to evade interception thanks to its high maximum and cruising speed. This program was never developed. The three-seat Amiot 340 merely served as a prototype for the Amiot 351/354 bombers, which corresponded to the subsequent program.


Amiot 340 - the first and last prototype
 
— The 1934 B4—a high-speed bomber program—was perhaps the most important of all those listed. Here I will simply quote from Jean Cuni and Raymond Danel's book "LeO 45, Amiot 350 et autres B4." This book is available online and is probably the most detailed publication on the two aforementioned aircraft (here and in similar cases—automatic translation):

This program, officially numbered A-21, was published on November 17, 1934. It called for an aircraft capable of performing one of the following 3 missions: A (I): 500 kg of bombs - 2000 km range (round trip) B (II): 1000 kg of bombs - 1400 km range C (III): 1500 kg of bombs - 900 km range by varying refueling and the bombs carried (it was planned to use bombs with a caliber of 10 to 500 kg) ... Priority was given to aerodynamic requirements: internal placement of all bombs and signaling missiles, removal of the front turret, its replacement with a streamlined front section, placement of bomb-dropping equipment, retraction of the landing gear and turrets... All "modern" solutions had to be considered: variable-pitch propellers, devices for increasing lift and air brakes...

Crew efficiency had to be optimized by creating comfortable crew conditions: enclosed and concentrated positions, heated and well-ventilated, soundproofed, well-designed seats... The aircraft had to be able to perform its mission day and night, in any weather, and possess excellent performance... The equipment had to be modern and highly sophisticated. Among them was the "Sperry" artificial horizon. The aircraft had to be equipped with radio direction finding. The crew was to consist of four people: - 1 pilot, - 1 chief bombardier (co-pilot), - 1 radio operator, - 1 gunner/observer.
    
The performance characteristics were to be as follows (with maximum load, but with turrets retracted): maximum speed at any altitude from 4000 to 5000 m: 400 km/h, climb to 4000 m in less than 15 minutes, takeoff with full load in a 500 m wide field limited by 8 m high obstacles, landing without bombs. The range was to be achieved at a cruising speed equal to 90% of the maximum speed. After flying half the range and dropping bombs (Mission I), the aircraft was to be able to cover 45% of the range (900 km) on one engine. Defensive armament: it was to "consist of two turrets under a cupola, each of which carried a cannon and fired, one into the upper hemisphere, and the other into the lower hemisphere... ... Firing in the direction of the rear axis (top) was considered a very important advantage."
        
These two turrets were to be fully retractable during normal flight, leaving only a very small turret visible above to the observer's eyes. The turrets were to be extendable and maneuverable at all speeds. However, the probable advantage of avoiding combat by accelerating with the armament retracted and the need to maintain good flight characteristics with the turrets extended were noted. The upper turret was to be controlled by a specialized gunner responsible for maintaining constant surveillance of the rear sector; the lower turret was to be controlled, if necessary, by the onboard radio operator.

The gun was identified as weapon caliber from 20 to 25 mm with a reserve of 120 rounds, but the barrel length (short or long barrel) was not specified... The fuel tanks were not to be self-sealing or jettisonable, but they were to be equipped with a quick-release valve... Following factory testing, presentations were to take place between March and June 36... Four prototypes were actually produced: the Romano 120, the Latécoère 570, the Lioré et Olivier LéO 45, and the Amiot 341 (the latter was an adaptation of the previously developed 340 BR 3). Only the LéO and Amiot were put into series production.

I'll add: none of the designers, except Pierre Latécoère, even considered installing two bulky retractable turrets with a 20mm cannon and 360° rotation on a medium bomber. As for remotely controlled turrets, which were also permitted by the requirements, they simply didn't exist, not even in the plans. Likewise, at that time, France had no mass-produced aircraft cannons larger than 20mm. What they did have was either the modernized Oerlikon HS 7/9 cannon or the Hispano-Suiza HS 404, both, of course, 20mm. There was no mention of heavy machine guns here—because France didn't have any heavy aircraft machine guns either (why that is a sad story in itself).

— B4 1936 — this program, officially called A21/1 and published on September 28, 1936, was actually an addition and clarification of the previous one. The main differences from the 1934 version were as follows: a design with four engines was allowed, only two missions were envisaged: A: 800 kg of bombs, range 2200 km, B: 1500 kg of bombs, range 1200 km. Now the largest bombs planned to be used were 200 kg (500 kg and their special release mechanisms created difficulties when installing on board in the internal compartments); the fuselage was divided into three sections: the navigation and pilot compartment at the front, the bomb bay in the center, the defense compartment at the rear; no communication was required between the front and rear positions, except for an on-board telephone or message transmitter (previously, gangways were required between all crew members).
   
The upper defense was to be provided by a firing position manned by a gunner/observer armed with a long 20mm Hispano cannon (with 180 rounds), covering a field of fire from 0 to 70° in elevation and 30° either side of the axis in azimuth. There were to be no obstructions on the rear axle (hence the prohibition of a single-fin tail—although, according to some sources, this was also required by the previous program). The lower firing position, with at least one MAC machine gun, was to be manned by a radio operator. The forward defense was to be provided by a MAC machine gun with limited traverse (±30° in azimuth, from +15° to -60° in elevation).

The onboard equipment was defined much more precisely; in particular, an autopilot with auxiliary directional control available to the bombardier (and servo control for bombing) was required. The required performance was increased: - Maximum speed at 4000 m over 470 km/h. This corresponded to the maximum speed of the MS 405/406 fighter and early Bf-109 modifications. Range was to be achieved at 85% of this speed.

A single-engine flight after dropping bombs and 400 kg of fuel (only bombs in the case of a four-engine aircraft). French companies managed to build quite a few prototypes under this program, but the two actual prototypes, the LeO 45 and the Amiot 350, were more of a mixture of the latter two.

I wrote above that Douhet's theory was not officially accepted in France, but the development of military aviation in general, and bomber aviation in particular, largely followed it—at least until the end of 1936. This elegant theory failed to withstand the reality of the Spanish Civil War. However, no other coherent concept for the use of aviation, including bombers, ever emerged—the governing directives of the Air Ministry and the General Staff in the late 30s were written in the spirit of so-called syncretism. This word sounds much more elegant than chaos or even disarray of opinions, although it means the same thing.

In contrast to Germany, where the "Instruction for the Conduct of Operational Air Warfare No. 16" (Luftwaffendienstvorschrift 16, L.Dv.16) appeared as early as 1936.[124] In the same year of 1936, it was adopted by Goering's ministry as a conceptual document defining the doctrine for the development and use of the German Air Force. It was this document (in the edited version of March 1942, it had the title "Conduct of Air Warfare" (Luftkriegführung)), setting out the strategic principles of air warfare, that became the basis for the Luftwaffe's activities throughout the Second World War.

From the very beginning, the document emphasizes the fundamentally offensive nature of "operational air warfare": at the outbreak of war, aircraft must operate over enemy territory, but, unlike Douhet's ideas, their primary target is not populations or economic centers, but enemy armed forces (paragraph 2). Of course, this is only a matter of priorities—no one intended to abandon the bombing of cities for humanitarian reasons.

But even without a concept for its use, the French Air Ministry drafted, and parliament approved, programs, or more accurately, plans, concerning the numerical strength of the Air Force. These were called Plan I, Plan II, and Plan V (Plans III and IV were not approved). The first of these (or the Denain Plan, after the Air Minister) was adopted in July 1934. It envisioned the complete replacement of the entire antique fleet—that is, the existing 1100 plywood-and-fabric biplanes—with a slightly smaller number of modern aircraft by the beginning (or middle—there's uncertainty) of 1936. More precisely, 1023 aircraft in the first line, i.e., in combat units, and 432 in the second.

As you might guess, the second line consisted of all aircraft that didn't make it into the first line, meaning operational reserve storage bases, flight schools, repair and modernization workshops, and support units like test centers. As for the storage bases, in this case, they weren't just a repository for old equipment—they were primarily used to receive aircraft that, due to the lack of certain equipment, such as gunsights, couldn't be sent to combat units, as well as to replace potential losses. Initially, 474 bombers were planned for production (including 350 in the first line), but this number later increased to 742, including the addition of reconnaissance aircraft. The entire program was estimated to cost nearly 4 billion francs.

Plan I, like its author, was later subjected to justifiable criticism. Denain was accused of putting the cart before the horse, as Senator Amaury de la Grange, the rapporteur on the aviation budget, stated on December 9, 1937:

When Germany three years ago wanted to transition from a camouflaged military aviation to a real military aviation [...], we all experienced a moment of panic, and General [Denin] issued a threatening order in 1934, hoping to solve the problem with loans, and we made a mistake in pushing him to do so. We should have, at that time, as was done in Germany, created the basis of our aviation industry, that is, created indoor airfields, purchased tools, organized our factories, but we did not do this.

It can be added that another important thing was not done: in France, a single center for theoretical research, similar to NACA, TsAGI, or the DVL research center in Germany, was never created.

However, by June 1936, the French Air Force had received only 607 aircraft, meaning the program was 60% complete. The main reason was embarrassingly simple: chronic underfunding. In fact, nothing terrible had happened yet—the Luftwaffe had only just emerged and did not yet pose a serious threat, either quantitatively or qualitatively. As for bomber aircraft, by the end of 1936, 24 squadrons were equipped with three-engine Ju-52s (better known as transport aircraft), and the remaining 12 with twin-engine Do.11s and Do.23s (the former affectionately nicknamed the "flying coffin"). A squadron (Staffel) typically had 12 aircraft. The maximum speed of all three types was below 300 km/h, and the other performance characteristics were also unimpressive. But all this became clear much later, and in the meantime, German propaganda, in full accordance with the precepts of Sun Tzu (if you are weak, try to look strong), frightened the whole world with non-existent armadas of the latest bombers.

In the summer of 1936, yet another new government came to power in France, this time with the Popular Front. Pierre Cot, a representative of the Radical Party, was appointed Minister of Aviation (actually, for a second time, as he had already held the post for a year in 1933-1934). Although the previous plan had not yet been implemented, the new minister proposed, and parliament adopted a new plan on August 25, this time for five years. Plan II called for the complete reequipment of the French Air Force by early 1941.

In the first stage (before January 1, 1940), it was planned to build 2200 aircraft (although the figure 2400 is also sometimes used), including 1500 first-line aircraft. In the second stage, the number of combat aircraft in the Armée de l'Air was to increase to 2850, of which 1340 were to be new bombers (46% of the total). This included aircraft that had not been completed under Plan I, i.e., the Amiot 143, Bloch MB 200, and Potez 540/542, as well as the slightly more modern Bloch MB 210. New on the order list were MB 131 bombers and reconnaissance aircraft. And the construction of pilot batches of next-generation bombers, i.e., the LeO 450 and Amiot 351, was already planned.

An unofficial name also emerged—the 14-billion-franc plan—since 14,3 billion francs were allocated for the creation of new aircraft (by September 1939, the sum had risen to 63 billion). Thus, the plan had a strong bombing focus, which army generals disliked, as it implied independent action in the spirit of Douhet's theory. At the same time, under pressure from the French Communist Party, the government secretly delivered approximately 400 aircraft, mostly obsolete, to the Spanish Republicans.

In all of 1936, only 600 aircraft were built, although the capacity at the time was capable of producing up to 1000 aircraft and 3000 engines. The government itself was primarily to blame for this—and not just because of constant underfunding. Equally flawed was the "thousand prototypes" policy, whereby a company (or sometimes even a small workshop) profited from building one or a few prototypes, funded by the state, without worrying about organizing mass production.

The policy of "smearing" military orders, usually small ones, across several firms also contributed to the amateurish approach. For example, in 1936, the order for MB 210 bombers was distributed as follows: Renault received 35 aircraft, ANF Les Mureaux 20, Breguet 16, Potez-CAMS 10 additional aircraft, and Hanriot 20. (Marcel Bloch's own factory in Châteauroux had not yet been completed.)


The MB 210 is the world's squarest bomber.

Likewise, the profit-based policy didn't facilitate production modernization. Profits were calculated as a percentage of wage and material costs. This meant that by purchasing expensive equipment (which generally pays for itself in large batches of several hundred machines) and reducing material and labor costs, since these machines could be operated by less-skilled workers, the manufacturer only reduced its own profits. And did it really need them? Not to mention the fact that the capabilities of the French machine tool industry left much to be desired. Machines would have had to be purchased from the US, Britain, or Germany as long as they could (and pay tariffs).

It was more profitable to retain skilled labor—say, Uncle Vasya, Uncle Pierre, with ten years' experience, capable of adjusting any part to any other. This situation, with some exceptions, existed throughout the French aviation industry, that is, in a dozen large firms and, even more so, in more than thirty small ones. One example suffices: regarding the MS 405, the prototype of the main French fighter, the MS 406, it was said something like this: "This is an airplane that cannot be produced in large series using large tools, because it was designed by engineers who don't know what a machine tool is" (the same Amaury de la Grange, now vice president of the Senate Aviation Committee).            
   
You can read more about the um... hole that the French aircraft industry was in in the article by Pierre-Yves Hennin "1935–1940: French aircraft manufacturing faced the challenge of the Industrial Revolution"The article is in French, but written in fairly simple language, so the automated translation is generally quite accurate. Perhaps the term "boiler production" refers to the production of large bent sheets, such as for cowlings. But in short, technologically, French aircraft manufacturing was archaic and semi-artisanal—for the reasons stated above. Moreover, attempts to introduce American production methods were met with resistance—even in December 1940 (i.e., after the defeat), the Director General of the Ministry of Aviation was criticized for excessive industrialization and the excessive use of aluminum (instead of wood and fabric). This author also has articles on the problems of engine manufacturing in France at that time.

Meanwhile, Germany's aviation industry was rapidly gaining momentum. While in 1934, before the Luftwaffe was officially legalized, it produced 840 military aircraft, in 1935 it produced 3183, mostly trainers, and in 1936, 4733. And it was clear that things would get even worse. True, the combat value of the first and second generations of German combat aircraft, both fighters (He 51, Ar 64/65/68) and bombers (Do 11, Do 23, He 70, Ju 52/3mge, Ju 86D/E, and even the later Do 17E), was not particularly high, but the scale of production was impressive.

To reverse the situation, the Socialist government, at the instigation of Pierre Cot, made an unprecedented and highly controversial decision: nationalizing the entire military sector of the aviation industry. General Denain had actually proposed this two years earlier, but, having encountered strong resistance from industrialists, he had retreated to his original position. Now, however, the government had control of both houses of parliament, the support of the Popular Front, and much more ambitious plans. It envisioned nationalizing not only aircraft factories but also all heavy industry, primarily arms production, shipbuilding, energy production, and the railway network.

As for aviation, by the summer of 1937, six nationalized aviation companies (SNCA — Société Nationales de Constructions Aéronautiques) had emerged, formed along regional lines. The government purchased 77% of the shares of all major aircraft manufacturers for 250 million francs. The company directors, in addition to the remaining shares, retained control over design and concept groups. In at least half of the cases, they became managers of national companies: Henri Potet — SNCAN (North), Marcel Bloch — SNCASO (Southwest), and Émile Devoitin — SNCAM (South).

It should be noted that a number of experimental aircraft manufacturing enterprises and those working for civil aviation, such as Latécoère, Morane-Saulnier, Caudron, Renault, and Levasseur, were not nationalized, nor were the Breguet aircraft factories in Villacoublay and the SECM firm owned by Félix Amyot. The government permitted all private aircraft companies to continue building civilian aircraft. A total of 20 aircraft factories were nationalized, and construction began on four more. Equipment worth 300 million francs was purchased for the nationalized factories, and another 150 million francs was spent on routine repairs. By 1936, approximately 30,000 workers and employees were employed at the nationalized factories, while private factories employed only 4,000-5,000.

Thus, the government sought to achieve two main objectives through nationalization: to modernize production, but this time using its own funds, under its own strict supervision, and at its own factories. The second objective was to relocate production away from Paris and the German border, as both the Aviation Ministry and the General Staff feared bombing raids on aircraft and engine factories.

Regarding the first objective, nationalization itself did not accelerate production; quite the opposite, as will be discussed below. Regarding the second, bombing of aircraft factories did indeed take place; in particular, on June 3, the Luftwaffe carried out Operation Paula, which included factories among its targets. But the damage to them was minimal. Generally speaking, the French General Staff knew that the Luftwaffe's primary mission was to support ground forces, but no one could have imagined the campaign would end so quickly—positional warfare, similar to that of the First World War, was envisioned, meaning the possibility of bombing industrial targets had to be taken into account.

Assessments of nationalization remain controversial to this day. Some historians believe it was the only means of increasing production, while others, on the contrary, see it as practically the main reason for the collapse of the French air force in May 1940. I am not an expert in military economics, so I cannot give a definitive answer. But one comparison is obvious.

Military aircraft production increased rapidly before and during the war in virtually every country: in the United States, for example, only about 1800 military aircraft were produced in 1938 (less than 50% of total output), 5836 in 1939, and 12804 in 1940. All that is known about Britain is that 893 aircraft were produced for the Air Force in 1935, 7940 in 1939, and 15049 in 1940. Moreover, the United States and Britain somehow managed without nationalization (although government regulation was, of course, in place). In Germany, where the production surge was no less impressive, only Hugo Junkers' factories were nationalized, but the reasons there were purely political.

Separate mention should be made of the "Achilles heel" of French aviation—the engine industry, which employed over 18 workers in 1936. Outwardly, its position in the mid-30s seemed quite secure—suffice it to say that half of Europe was buying licenses for French engines—but the gap with competitors, primarily American and British firms, was becoming obvious. However, the government did not dare to take extreme measures.

Of all the factories, only one was nationalized—the Lorraine-Dietrich plant in Argenteuil, near Paris, becoming SNCM. Since this enormous plant, once the flagship of the engine industry, was in dire straits by the mid-1930s, both owners and workers were only too happy about this. However, the nationalization was inadequately financed, and the management's actions after nationalization were just as clumsy as those of the owners before. As a result, the plant, with over two thousand employees and once producing thousands of engines, handed over 30 (thirty) engines to the Air Force in the three years following nationalization. Incidentally, the Nazis, having seized the plant, didn't reinvent the wheel and simply handed it over (the plant, not the wheel) to the more successful Gnome et Rhône.

As for Gnome et Rhône itself and its rival, Hispano-Suiza, the government acquired a portion of its shares. Incidentally, anyone interested in the history of French aviation might well think that there were no other engine companies besides the aforementioned, which is quite far from the truth – France had more of them than any other European country. The fact is that by the mid-30s, only these two, along with Renault's engine division, were effectively working for the Air Force. Some scraps went to Salmson, Potez, and Bearn. But all but the first two produced only low- and medium-power engines, ranging from 5 to 600 hp.

It's quite difficult to say to what extent this situation was the result of deliberate policy by the Ministry of Aviation and the General Staff of Aviation, or just the way it happened. There's no direct documentary evidence, only the testimony of participants and witnesses. Most likely, it was both. It's just that attempts to manage the development of engine manufacturing didn't always lead to the desired results.

Initially, between 1928 and 1932, the Aviation Ministry pursued the same "thousand prototype" policy for engine manufacturing as it did for military aviation in general. During this time, 60 engine prototypes were built at the state's expense, or at least with its support. Naturally, no one guaranteed their mass production.

But then the pendulum swung back. It's highly likely that this swing was influenced by the failures in the Schneider Cup competition. After a long hiatus, the Air Ministry decided to take part in this prestigious competition—first in 1929 and then in 1931. These were races for seaplanes (which at the time were faster than landplanes) with no engine power restrictions. Therefore, the competitions became a "school of life" for aircraft and engine designers, stimulating research in aerodynamics, engine building, and the development of new types of fuel (in Britain, Shell was in charge of these developments).

For the 1931 races, engines were ordered from Hispano-Suiza (18R with 1600 hp), Farman (18T with 1500 hp), Renault (12Ncr with 2000 hp), and the Lorrain-Dietrich 12 Rcr "Radium"—the latter was expected to produce 2200 hp at 4000 rpm. It's safe to assume everyone knows that the number in the name refers to the number of cylinders.

But attempts to solve a multitude of complex problems at once inevitably failed, and the cup sailed to Britain. The Air Ministry's interest shifted to winning the German Cup, which was contested by aircraft with engines of up to 8 liters. Indeed, from 1933 to 1936, only French pilots emerged victorious, but these victories contributed almost nothing to the development of military aviation. Later, eloquent testimony emerged: "There was a time, not so long ago, when only medium-power, small-displacement engines were required, whereas today's war demands 1500 horsepower," declared Prince Stanisław Poniatowski, Hispano's administrator. According to Senator Bellanger, "previous aviation programs (sic) excluded large engines (1000 horsepower). Official specialists did not believe in them and forced manufacturers to concentrate their efforts on medium-power engines of 500 to 600 horsepower."

It's therefore unsurprising that other companies abandoned their work on "large" engines. Some believe this was a deliberate decision by the Air Staff, or more precisely, its division, CEMA (Centre d'Essais de Matériels Aériens – Aeronautical Testing Center), which in the mid-30s decided that only Gnome et Rhône and Hispano-Suiza were worthy of developing and producing engines with outputs exceeding 800 hp. Moreover, the Air Ministry stopped funding prototype development, forcing even these two companies to play it safe and adopt a "small step" approach, i.e., not develop new engines from scratch.

As a result, a dipoly, or dual monopoly, developed in the second half of the 30s: Gnome et Rhône focused on radial (i.e., air-cooled) engines, while Hispano-Suiza focused on inline (i.e., water-cooled; although this was more complex, as will be discussed below). Inline engines powered fighters, while radial engines powered attack aircraft, reconnaissance aircraft, and… fighters. Although, of course, there were exceptions.

When designing bombers in the mid- to late 30s, designers favored radial engines for a very simple reason: they were significantly more powerful than liquid-cooled engines. More precisely, Hispano-Suiza significantly slowed the development of its 12Y engine. Created in 1932, by 1936, the 12Y-31 version produced 835 hp at takeoff and 860 hp at 4 m. This was quite good until the advent of the Merlin and DB-601, but development then slowed. The 12Y-21, 12Y-45, and 12Y-49 versions had takeoff power of 910-920 hp and nominal power of the same 910-920 hp at altitudes from 3,6 to 5 m. But there was a small nuance: to extract full power, it required 100-octane gasoline, not 85 or 87 as in previous versions. It wasn't until the summer of 1940, just before the surrender, that production of the 12Y-51 version began, producing 1100 hp at takeoff and 1000 hp at 3,25 km—of course, also with 100-octane gasoline.

To finish the conversation about gasoline, I'll just add: in reality, the French Air Force used the following types of fuel in 1940 (with all the inevitable logistical problems):

- Class A gasoline, with an octane rating of 67 to 77, was used in training or older aircraft.
- Grade B petrol, with an octane rating increased from 85 to 87 to meet British standards, was the standard fuel for military aircraft.
- 92 octane Class C gasoline was used on Dewoitine 520 aircraft, as well as imported American aircraft, to limit power loss in engines designed for 100 octane.

In addition, there was limited use of 100-octane Class D gasoline for various tests and for a few Farman 223.3 bombers (Air France aircraft also used this gasoline). While it is possible that the use of Class C gasoline would have increased in 1940, widespread adoption of 100-octane gasoline was not planned until 1941.

It's difficult to say why Hispano-Suiza lagged so far. Several reasons have been cited: the departure of the company's technical director, Marc Birkigt (in France, he was known as Birkhier; here, almost like Mayakovsky, when we write Hispano-Suiza, we mean Marc Birkigt) to design the HS 404 aircraft cannon; fears of nationalization; and HS's unsuccessful attempts to capture the radial engine market, temporarily abandoning work on inline engines.

In fact, Marc Birkigt attempted to replicate the maneuver of his competitors at Gnome et Rhône: they purchased licenses for existing engines, in this case the Bristol Jupiter and Titan, and based them on the rather successful 14K engine. Similarly, Hispano-Suiza had already acquired licenses for the Wright R-975 and Wright Cyclone R-1820 engines back in 1928 and produced them under the designations 9Q and 9V for transport aircraft until 1939, albeit with moderate success.

In 1933, the company began developing the 14Aa, a 1000-plus-hp 14-cylinder engine based on the Wright Cyclone R-1820, and its "little brother," the 14Ab, producing 650–700 hp (initially designated 14Ha and 14Hb). The engines received initial (homologation) approval as early as 1935 (which was almost too easy), but attempts to refine both engines failed miserably—problems with overheating, oil leaks, and component failures, including the crankshaft, seemed endless. To be precise, both engines were finally refined by the end of 1938, but it was hopelessly too late.

Worse for French aviation as a whole, the 14Aa engine generated excessive and premature enthusiasm among the official services, which wanted to break Gnome et Rhône's monopoly on radial engines (for some reason, Hispano-Suiza's similar position with inline engines didn't cause concern, although it would seem...). As a result, CEMA literally forced 14Aa engines onto all bomber prototypes. The more steadfast Louis Breguet in the Breguet 462 and Félix Amiot in the Amiot 350 refused, but Lioré et Olivier accepted and, as a result, wasted a year and a half: from January 17, 1937, when the prototype made its maiden flight, until August 1938, when the technical service reluctantly approved the installation of the 14N, 13 engines had to be replaced, and the flight time was less than 67 hours. The method of pressure was very simple: either the government itself purchases the motors and provides them for free, or the manufacturer buys what it wants at market price.

In November 1937, the Air Ministry made another attempt to break Gnome et Rhône's monopoly by purchasing a license for the Pratt & Whitney R-2180 Twin Wasp Hornet and R-1830 Twin Wasp engines. But Gnome et Rhône easily repulsed this attack, mobilizing the friendly press, which criticized the deal with arguments ranging from the relatively reasonable—that American fighter jets used expensive and scarce 100-octane gasoline—to the downright demagogic: "How are our engines any worse?" As a result, no factory succeeded in finding a home for these engines.

Technically, Gnome et Rhône's products were indeed no worse. The 14K engine, introduced in 1932, proved to be a commercial success. More precisely, engines, as they were generally produced in pairs, left- and right-handed, to avoid yaw torque during takeoff and landing—for twin-engine aircraft, of course. These engines (or licenses for them) were purchased by many countries, from Italy to Japan. But they also had flaws that were never resolved, primarily overheating, oil leaks, and inconsistencies between the stated and actual power.

Therefore, the 14N engines were both a further development of the 14K and a "correction of mistakes." The first versions—the 14N-0/1, which appeared in early 1937—developed 900 hp at takeoff (for 5 minutes) and 950 hp at an altitude of 3,7 km. The last pre-war ones, i.e., the 14N-48/49, produced 1180 hp at takeoff, the same amount briefly at an altitude of 3,7 km, and 1070 hp at the same altitude in nominal mode. According to the French Wikipedia, when overloaded (disabling the intake restrictors), these engines briefly developed 1300 hp at an altitude of 2150 m. For 1939, when powerful "stars" of 1500 hp or more were Before they appeared, this wasn't bad at all, especially since they used regular 85-octane gasoline. Moreover, the engines had relatively small dimensions—the dry weight was 620 kg, and the diameter was 1,29 m.

But when it came to reliability, durability, and longevity, there were serious problems. These problems were both design-related and manufacturing-related. The latter were common to all French engines—the poor quality of raw materials, i.e., from the French steel industry, and insufficient technological discipline, a result of the strike bacchanalia, were common to all of them. It got to the point where engines manufactured under French licenses in the Czech Republic, Italy, and especially Switzerland were of better quality than the originals.

But the list of the 14N's design flaws was also quite long. Here's a post-war assessment of these engines: "For the 14N, the most serious defects were crankshaft failures, connecting rod failures, valve spring failures, and excessively rapid cylinder wear [...] This engine could not withstand overspeeding, as this always resulted in the main connecting rod bearings seizing." And as a result: "Very often, in triple patrols [i.e., out of 9 aircraft] departing from an airfield, only 8 or even 7 aircraft remained in the sector due to detected engine faults" (from a report by the GC II/9 fighter group, equipped with Bloch 152 fighters with 14N engines). Thirty years later, one French engineer summed it up: "(In 1940) we had no good engines; the least bad were the Gnome et Rhône."

A separate question arises regarding the number of engines, or more precisely, whether there were enough for the planned number of airframes. The sheer number of modifications of both fighters and attack aircraft, powered by virtually every existing British and American engine, would seem to suggest a negative answer. Furthermore, it is known that French representatives negotiated the purchase of 12Y engines from Czechoslovakia, Switzerland, and even the Soviet Union—in short, from countries to which the license for these engines had been sold—with, of course, virtually no results.

However, these negotiations were conducted only for Hispano-Suiza products, and at a time when the 14Aa engines were expected to power most bombers. Perhaps the ministry feared the company's capacity would be insufficient, and the purchase was planned as a temporary measure until the Hispano-Suiza plant in Tarbes became operational (similarly, Gnome et Rhône built a new plant in Arnage in 1939 and expanded its existing one on Boulevard Kellermann in Paris). But more likely, the additional engines simply weren't needed due to the constant disruptions to airframe production plans. As the saying goes, the operation is canceled, the patient is dead. As for the purchase of American engines, their delivery was significantly delayed, and these engines were actually installed on only a few dozen aircraft.
       
Attempts to purchase British Bristol Hercules and Rolls-Royce Merlin engines also failed. The former were intended for LeO 45 bombers, the latter for the Amiot. Negotiations had been ongoing since early 1938—i.e., as it turned out, too late. Deliveries of finished engines were understandably impossible (although several dozen Merlins did arrive in France), and the acquisition of licenses was delayed by the sluggish French bureaucracy until the summer of 1940.

I was unable to find precise figures for aircraft engine production for all the pre-war years. It is known that over 2000 engines were produced for the Air Force in 1936, and twice as many in 1938. Only fragmentary information is available for 1939 and 1940. For example, in May 1940, Gnome et Rhône alone produced 470 14N and 430 14M engines. For comparison, in 1938, the average monthly output was 400 engines (including engines for civilian aircraft), and in 1939, it was approximately 600. Even earlier, before 1936, between 400 and 800 engines were produced annually, accounting for a third of all engine production in France. Unfortunately, there is no information about the production of Hispano-Suiza engines - there are only fragmentary details, such as that the new plant in Tarbes managed to produce 600 12Y-49 engines (it is unknown whether these were the only ones), that about 2000 of the latest modification 12Y-51 were produced, and in June 1940, before the capitulation, only 1300 12Y engines were produced (the figure seems exaggerated, but I have no other).

So, in 1936, aircraft production remained at a very low level. True, there was a noticeable improvement compared to 1935—an increase of approximately 150 aircraft. But in the following year, 1937, deservedly dubbed the Lost Year, the situation only worsened—only 470 aircraft were produced. There were many reasons—the reorganization of production, accompanied by the inevitable breakdown of ties between nationalized enterprises and private subcontractors; and, as always, insufficient funding (and when was it ever sufficient?), even though the share of aviation in the defense budget increased from 27% in 1936 to 51% in 1939.

There is an eloquent description of the situation at the enterprises: 

After the factory occupations ended, work resumed extremely slowly and only partially. Factory directors and foremen lost all authority; workers' delegates controlled the factory. They constantly bombarded the management with various demands, often backed by threats of seizure, or even actual seizure, of certain workshops, so that the factory directors were preoccupied exclusively with responding to their delegates. It seems the minister's (Pierre Cot's) attitude toward them greatly encouraged them to do this; in fact, one factory director with whom I discussed how to restore his authority told me that if he wanted to appeal to the minister for support, the door was systematically closed in his face, whereas any workers' delegate who came to his office was immediately received.

Moreover, in many places, the delegates limited the amount of work performed by workers to a maximum, which they could not exceed under penalty of sanctions. I learned of these facts from my inspectors, who constantly visited the workshops […]. This is the testimony of chief engineer Pierre Franck at the Riom trial. The trial was conducted by the Vichyites with the aim of discrediting the previous governments as the culprits of the defeat and thus legitimizing the Vichy regime. This goal was not achieved, but the public learned a lot.

In April of the following year, the minimum was reached: CRAS (Centre de réception des avions de série—something like a primary acceptance service) received only 25 aircraft. Then, as connections were established, production began to increase, but a radical change only occurred after the failure of the general strike on November 30, 1938. At the same time, that is, in the fall of that year, a new production organization was adopted, under which the main components of the aircraft were manufactured at subcontractor factories, and final assembly took place at one or more sites. For example, for the MB 174 reconnaissance aircraft, the picture was as follows:

Several subcontractors were involved in the production of the MB.174. The wing panels were manufactured at SNCAO in Nantes, the center section at SNCAO in Bordeaux, the rear fuselage sections at Enterprise Industrielle Charentésy in Autreux, and the tail assembly at SNCASO in Rochefort-sur-Mer.

In the case of the LeO 451, which was produced at multiple sites, this scheme was more complex and confusing. This production method was entirely justified in itself, but initially only caused further disorganization. It would have been far more convenient to implement it during nationalization. As a result, only 533 military aircraft were built in 1938, and 2277 the following year. This despite the fact that the ineptly executed mobilization that began in September 1939 (after all, World War II had begun) caused further disruption to production for two to three months.


Production of aircraft in France and, for comparison, in other countries

Of course, the latter figure was also catastrophically low, even taking into account Allied aircraft, primarily Britain. Another factor played a role: the aircraft accepted into service (or slated for acceptance) were generally not distinguished by their high technological advancement. The MS 406, with its Plimax aluminum-plywood skin, has already been mentioned. But the "golden legend of French aviation," the Liore et Olivier LeO 451 bomber, was distinguished not only by its excellent performance but also by the complexity of its production and operation, and the correspondingly high cost of both.

In the spring of 1938, it took twice as many hours to produce a single LeO 451 as it did for the three-seater Amiot 340. Even in 1939–1940, when mass production of the 451 was spread across four assembly sites, it required at least 30% more hours to produce than its competitor, the Amiot 351 (45000–60000 hours compared to 30000–40000). However, I plan to write about this later.
 
Jumping ahead a bit, it can be said that the only aircraft designed from the outset with industrial production in mind was the Dewoitine D.520 fighter. The Amiot 351/354 bombers, Breguet 691/693/695 bomber-attack aircraft, and Potez 631/633/637/63-11 multirole aircraft generally met the requirements for mass production. All other designs were of varying degrees of inferiority.

Meanwhile, the extremely unpopular Pierre Côt (later, after the defeat of France, Côt tried to join the Free French in any position, "even sweeping stairs," but de Gaulle turned him down) was replaced in January 1938 by Guy La Chambre, also of the same party, but much more flexible and pragmatic. He managed to establish a dialogue with both the generals of the air staff and the industrialists; as a result, the ministry ceased to be a besieged fortress.

And, of course, the new minister began preparing a new plan for the development of aviation, based on the existing sad realities. Plan V was approved in record time - from March 8 to 15, 1938. In total, according to this plan, which was supposed to be implemented between April 1938 and March 1941 in three successive stages, the Air Force was to receive 4740 aircraft, of which 2617 machines were to be in the "first line", and the remaining 2120 - in the "second line". For the first line, it was supposed to build 1081 fighters, 876 bombers (meaning all types, including the light Potez 633; ​​this order was later canceled), 636 reconnaissance and observation aircraft and 24 troop carriers, and fighters were to be produced at an accelerated pace, based on the logic that with fighter cover even obsolete machines would reach their target. In addition, fighters were needed for target Defense, since in relation to the French anti-aircraft artillery No one had any illusions.

In its initial definition, adopted on March 15, 1938, Plan V envisioned 22 B4 medium bomber groups in the front line (not including the 23rd Group with floatplanes), each with 12 modern aircraft in service. Taking into account the reserve stock, the requirement was estimated at 499 B4 aircraft, including 182 (of which 142 were transitional Bloch MB 131s), to be delivered by April 1, 1939. Another 82 aircraft were intended to be of the A4 variant, i.e., for strategic reconnaissance.

By modern, I mean, of course, the LeO 451 and Amiot 351. I plan to cover their development in more detail in a future article, but for now, briefly, both programs were significantly behind schedule. Meanwhile, there was simply no transitional aircraft to fill the gap—the MB 210 was quickly becoming obsolete, and the MB 131 was an utter failure. While superior to its predecessor in speed, it was inferior in virtually every other area—combat payload, range, ceiling, etc. Therefore, the only hope was that the problems with the new bombers would be quickly resolved (though everyone knows the consequences of haste), and in the meantime, the fleet of obsolete aircraft could be maintained and fighters built.


The MB 131 is neither a bomber nor a reconnaissance aircraft.

While the main reason for the delay for the first aircraft was clear—first, an unfortunate choice of engines, followed by accelerated attempts to make up for lost time—the situation with the second aircraft was much more complex and confusing. As noted above, the original Amiot 340 conformed to the BR3 program, meaning it was a three-seater with relatively weak defensive armament and a conventional single-fin tail. In this configuration, the prototype was tested without undue problems from December 5, 1937.

At the end of that month, Félix Amiot approached the ministry with a proposal to build a small series of up to 50 aircraft, both to utilise production capacity and to gain operational experience. But only five months later (unfortunately, this was far from the first or last delay) did he receive an official response ordering construction of only the B4 variant—i.e., a four-seater with a 20mm cannon mounted on the upper gunner and a twin-fin tail. It seemed such a redesign wouldn't take long. Meanwhile, the Ministry of Aviation blessed the small SECM design team with another assignment: to develop a high-speed mail plane, the Amiot 370, based on the bomber, primarily as a flying advertisement for the French aviation industry.

Formally, ordering a four-seat variant was the right decision. The war later demonstrated that any combination of duties (navigator-bombardier and gunner, radio operator and gunner) was undesirable. But it was clear even before that the rear gunner could not fire two mounts simultaneously, just as he could not operate the radio and maintain continuous surveillance. And counting on superior speed over enemy fighters or constant fighter cover would have been overly optimistic.

Another issue is that, for many reasons, both technical and otherwise, the conversion took a very long time. Regarding technical issues, suffice it to say that the fuselage had to be reconfigured, resulting in an empty weight increase of over one and a half tons. As for other reasons, one can only mention the outright hostility of CEMA employees, who dismissively referred to the Amiot 351 as a "2000-horsepower tourist plane" (later, the Air General Staff dispersed them to the far reaches of space, but it was too late). This is despite the fact that, by late 1938, the General Staff itself considered the Amiot 351/354 a more promising aircraft—it was easier to fly, cheaper to build, and simpler to operate, and its shortcomings were considered rectifiable. For example, by the summer of 1941, plans were made to have 12 Amiot groups and 8 LeO groups.


Amiot 351

Ultimately, no more than fifty Amiots took part in the war. The irony was that they were used almost exclusively for night missions, when the only danger (other than, of course, getting lost or crashing on landing) was German anti-aircraft artillery, and the number of gunners and defensive machine guns was of little importance. And the Amiot 340 was perfectly capable of performing these missions.

So, by early 1938, it became clear that the LeO 451 and Amiot 351 programs were more than a year behind schedule. National pride had to be put aside and aircraft procurement began in the United States. Of course, direct procurement was also problematic—the United States was considered a neutral country, American aviation generals were very opposed (they didn't have enough for themselves), and aircraft production had not yet transitioned to a wartime production program. Therefore, the first order, placed in July 1938, was very limited, only 120 aircraft, and was not related to the topic of this article—twin-engine bombers.

It wasn't until February-May of the following year that large orders for 665 aircraft and 2533 engines were placed. These included 115 Glenn-Martin 167-Fs and 200 Douglas DB-7s. Other, even larger orders followed, which are pointless to discuss because they arrived in France too late or were immediately forwarded to Britain. In fact, these purchases proved far more beneficial for the US and Britain. For the former, the French orders, along with the accompanying financial injections, served as a powerful boost to military production, while Britain simply received hundreds of ready-made aircraft.

In reality, by the start of hostilities, the French Air Force had 200-300 bombers of both types. It depends on how you count—for example, it is known that 116 DB-7s were delivered before the capitulation, i.e., before the Armistice. Regarding the Glenn-Martin, 77 aircraft were in service by May 1940, and 245 aircraft were delivered by the end of hostilities, some of which were still in containers. So the phrase "too little, too late" applies to these aircraft as well.

Interestingly, the bombers delivered were precisely in line with the BR3 program: fairly fast (490–500 km/h), with a fairly long range, but both their combat load (600–900 kg) and defensive armament (a pair of movable small-caliber machine guns) were rather weak. Of course, both aircraft were three-seaters and had a conventional single-fin tail—as it later turned out, there was nothing wrong with that. Much worse was the lack of fuel tank seals. However, there was no choice.

Meanwhile, the global situation was heating up: in March 1938, Nazi Germany annexed Austria; in September of that year, the Sudetenland Crisis erupted, ending with the infamous Munich Agreement and, as a result, the annexation of that region of Czechoslovakia to the Reich; and in March of the following year, the Nazis occupied the rest of the country. Thus, Germany's aircraft manufacturing capacity increased significantly. I don't want to delve into alternative history and speculate on whether the Allies had a chance in October 1938 or March of the following year. But things only got worse from there.

The French air command could only respond by drawing up new plans—various revisions to Plan V followed, culminating in a new version issued in late March 1939, known as "Reinforced Plan V." This only slightly altered the number of B-4s planned for front-line delivery (396 instead of 450), but significantly increased the planned operational reserve, taking into account combat losses: it increased from 70% to 200%! This resulted in an urgent need for 1188 medium bombers, to which 144 A-4s were added.

However, the implementation of these plans remained in a mediocre state—between bad and very bad. Although orders for pilot batches of both bombers had been placed in November 1937 and March 1938 (the first for the LeO 450 with Hispano-Suiza engines, the second for the Amiot), serial production was still a long way off. Testing of both prototypes proceeded very slowly and with difficulty (thank goodness there were no disasters, as only one prototype of each was built).

According to initial plans, the first production LeO 450 was supposed to be ready by March 1938, but in reality, the same first prototype resumed flying with 14N-20/21 only on October 20, 1938. True, after the engine swap, further testing was very successful, one might even say excessively so (it will become clear later why), but the shift to the right was enormous. The first production 451 was shown at the Paris Air Show in November, but it didn't make its maiden flight until March 24 of the following year, and its second production flight on April 28.

As we can see, preparations for the LeO 451's construction began long before the end of testing at CEMA (most likely, immediately after the order for the pilot batch was placed), which would have repercussions later. Nevertheless, production was initially very slow—it took four months to build the first five aircraft. By the start of World War II, only 22 aircraft were built, of which only 10 (or 11) were accepted by the Air Force. There were numerous reasons, both technical—the complexity of the aircraft's design—and organizational—a shortage of machine tools, personnel, and components. The latter were particularly problematic—private companies producing equipment (propellers, bomb racks, sights, oxygen equipment, etc.) were unable to fulfill the ever-increasing orders.

Things were even worse for SECM. The Amiot 340 prototype, designated 350-01, with a new twin-fin tail resumed flying on January 21, 1939, and was tested again at CEMA in February. This time, the reviews were decidedly negative—with the new tail, controllability had deteriorated sharply, and the aircraft was returned to the company. Testing resumed at CEMA on June 16. The yaw had disappeared, but pitch instability was still such that flight with one engine off was very difficult. Incorrect brake adjustment resulted in damage to the Amiot in a landing accident on July 4. As a result, testing was resumed with the first production 351 N1, but by September 3, the start of World War II, they had not even begun.

Since the ordered American bombers had not yet arrived, it is safe to say that the French Air Force lacked modern strike aircraft. The same cannot be said for the Luftwaffe: as of September 1, 1939, it had 351 Heinkel He 111P, 431 He 111H, 218 Dornier Do 17Z, 123 Do 17E, 36 Do 17M, and 12 Junkers Ju 88A-1 bombers. In addition, there were nine dive bomber groups, each with 295 Junkers Ju 87A/B. As we can see, not only were frankly outdated aircraft like the Ju 86 retired, but also the early modifications of the He 111; and even relatively few early Do 17s remained.

In short, for the French Air Force, the situation was like a joke—we had two options: the realistic one, that aliens would arrive and do all the work, and the fantastical one, that we could handle it ourselves. If by aliens we meant American supplies, then they would only have had a real impact on the balance of power by the end of 1941. As for the French aircraft industry, it's true that bomber production had increased since the end of 1939. However, this only applied to the LeO 451; the Amiot was mired in numerous problems.

By the end of 1939, 132 aircraft had been produced, but only 66 of them were delivered to CRAS—component production was still lagging, a situation that persisted until the capitulation. By the end of winter, LeO 451 production stabilized at an average of 50 aircraft per month. By May 5, 1940, five days before the Phoney War became a reality, 360 aircraft had been produced, 230 of which were delivered to CRAS. In total, approximately 500 LeO 451s were built before the capitulation, of which the Air Force received 365.

So, with the onset of the "phony war," the first LeO 451s arrived in service and almost immediately began experiencing accidents and crashes. This is, unfortunately, normal for new aircraft, but in this case, the rate of accidents was much higher than usual. One French aviation blogger counted 20 accidents and crashes from the start of service until May 10th; I managed to find "only" 15, which is still more than enough. It turns out that the highly skilled (and without any quotation marks) CEMA pilots failed to notice that the aircraft was too complex for the average French pilot.

Many articles about the LeO 451 include the phrase, "Once the aircraft gained speed and altitude, it became easy to control and maneuver." Translated into everyday language, this meant that during takeoff, landing, and even at low speeds and altitudes, the aircraft was difficult to control and downright dangerous. In March 1940, rather late in the development, Jacques Lecarme, a test pilot at CEMA, developed a new takeoff technique that somewhat reduced the accident rate, but the fundamental solution—larger vertical stabilizer washers—was not implemented.

I plan to tell you about the performance of the new French bombers in one of the following parts. For now, just a spoiler: they could have performed better, even given their relatively small numbers. Of course, there were countless factors independent of their design, such as poor operational tactics and the frequent lack of fighter cover, but there were plenty of factors that did.
49 comments
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  1. 13+
    20 December 2025 05: 14
    A thorough and interesting article, thanks to the author!
  2. +8
    20 December 2025 05: 37
    Quote: Comrade
    A thorough and interesting article, thanks to the author!
    Join us!
  3. +8
    20 December 2025 05: 52
    a very thorough work....
    The French are such Frenchmen, with all these hesitations, and it is not surprising that they lost to the Germans in less than a month and a half...
    1. The comment was deleted.
      1. +6
        20 December 2025 09: 24
        Isn't it funny to read comments like these? France suffered a civil war with millions of casualties, famine, international isolation, and the emigration of scientists and engineers? And all this in less than a quarter of a century. Moreover, each country builds its own war strategy based on its capabilities, advantages, and disadvantages. Russia's historical advantage is its vast territory, but it also has a disadvantage in terms of supplies and communications, and the spread of forces across different sections of the front... And France lost in less than a month and a half. When the Germans bypassed the Maginot Line, everything became clear.
        1. The comment was deleted.
      2. +4
        20 December 2025 09: 34
        What losses did the Wehrmacht suffer in the six weeks in France and the USSR? How do they compare?
      3. +8
        20 December 2025 10: 08
        It's not funny at all. The USSR didn't have eight months of a "phoney war," didn't have the technological and industrial might of Hitler's united Europe, and of the German troops concentrated on the German-Soviet border on June 22, 1941, 20% were from Hitler's European allies.
        Just think about it, a total of 5,5 million men, 47,2 guns and mortars, 4,3 tanks, and about 5 combat aircraft. However, even if we discount all these "no's," it's unlikely the Red Army would have been able to stem this avalanche. And France had every chance of defeating Hitler. So, it's not funny.
      4. +6
        20 December 2025 11: 10
        And here are the buzzers on the site... bully
  4. 13+
    20 December 2025 06: 48
    In analyzing why the French aviation industry remained in the shadow of its German and American counterparts before the war, as well as its British counterparts, the author forgets that during the presidency of President A. Lebrun (1932–1940) alone, there were 19 governments. And, if we dig even deeper, there were more than a dozen of these governments during the presidency of President P. Doumer, who was assassinated in 1932 and whose term coincided with the Great Depression. Hence the conclusion: How can one organize work in the aviation industry, and not only in it, given such obvious chaos? And if we compare the ongoing circus with horses in France with the same period in the USSR, then those interested in this topic are surely aware of how harmoniously the Soviet government worked to create its own aviation industry before World War II...
    P.S.. The article and its author get a plus!
    1. +4
      22 December 2025 11: 58
      Quote: Luminman
      And if we compare the ongoing circus with horses in France with the same period in the USSR, then those interested in this topic are surely aware of how harmoniously the Soviet government worked to create its own aviation industry before World War II...

      According to Mukhin (the one who's an aviation industry historian, not a propagandist), the Soviet government made the right, preemptive decision based on faulty initial data. It all began with a visit by a Soviet aviation delegation to the Reich. The Germans so convincingly fabricated disinformation about the Reich producing 80-90 aircraft per day that the delegation members believed it and convinced their leadership of it. The leadership, in turn, set the task of...catch up and overtake!"
      As a result, a de facto mobilization of the USSR's aviation industry began a year and a half before the war. The chaos was extreme: there was a shortage of everything, even the most basic tools—Mukhin had a document about a 19-man team that was issued three hammers. Due to the massive influx of unskilled workers, defects skyrocketed (though the aviation industry hadn't been known for its high-quality production before—reports from Spain and the SFV testify to this). The few qualified personnel were held on by any means necessary, turning a blind eye to violations of labor discipline and extortion (for example, procrastination and rescheduling of overtime). Directors were no longer imprisoned; they were shuffled between factories in the hope that a new leader would straighten things out. Overall, Rychagov was partly right about the "coffins"—the quality of aircraft produced in 1940 wasn't particularly good.
      But despite all this, the USSR approached the war with an aircraft industry designed to produce three times more aircraft than before. And we were very lucky that this mobilization took place in peacetime, unburdened by evacuation. Because if aircraft production had begun to increase in the summer of 1941, the aircraft industry would have certainly collapsed.
      1. +4
        23 December 2025 07: 53
        Quote: Alexey RA
        The mess was top-notch
        Our chaos was due to a shortage of specialists, necessary materials, and the absence of our own engineering school. The French chaos was caused by administrative failures, which were accompanied by a fierce political struggle. As a result, excellent engineering talent and highly developed French industry found themselves far and wide under the floorboards...
  5. 13+
    20 December 2025 07: 21
    For now, a few clarifications.
    1. I'm in Dubai now, so I can only answer from my mobile.
    2. There was a list of sources, but it wasn't included in the article.
    3. The top photo is a Martin B-10. This is the work of an auto editor.
    1. +4
      20 December 2025 10: 15
      Dear Igor! I enjoyed reading your article, but 68804 characters is simply impossible. An article on an online website should be at least 8000 characters long, and at most 14000. Even 20000 is considered unreadable. And yours is 68000. By the time you're finished, you've forgotten the beginning. There are certain rules of online journalism, rules we didn't invent and which have been tested in practice. You can break them, but there's little point in doing so.
      1. 15+
        20 December 2025 11: 10
        I wanted it to be short, but it turned out as always.
        By the way, I thought they would ask me to split it.
        1. +2
          20 December 2025 21: 46
          Igor, thank you, I really liked the article!
          drinks
      2. +8
        20 December 2025 17: 22
        An article on an electronic website must be at least 8000 characters long and at most 14000.

        This statement is appropriate for those with a clip-based mindset. But such people aren't interested in such questions. They can't handle it, no matter how many characters there are. But a person with normal intelligence can handle even more.
        1. +1
          20 December 2025 20: 18
          Quote: Nikname2025
          A person with normal intelligence is capable of accomplishing even more.

          But we work for 80% of people who are also people... albeit with clip-based thinking.
  6. 0
    20 December 2025 08: 56
    And Soviet specialists, who purchased a sample of the aircraft for informational purposes, were surprised to discover that it had already been manufactured using the plasma-template method in the early 30s.

    How did they discover it? Were they given full-size blueprints? How can they understand how it was manufactured, given the excellent assembly and symmetry of the fuselage and wing components?
    1. +3
      20 December 2025 20: 44
      Yeah, that's a tough one. Do you really think engineers in the USSR didn't receive information from the West? Didn't they know what was coming in?
      Every possible aviation magazine was subscribed to; copies were easily obtained from leading libraries and kept abreast of all technical innovations. Even later, when secrecy was tightened, everything could be read with the appropriate clearance. Leading engineers were regularly sent on business trips to the West, where they learned about the state of aviation production.
  7. -2
    20 December 2025 10: 00
    At the same time, in the spirit of the officially unrecognized theory of Douhet, it was assumed that with the help of aerial bombing it was possible to crush the military-economic potential of the enemy and his will to resist.

    How can we officially acknowledge this? The theory has been confirmed and continues to be confirmed...remember Germany, Iraq, Yugoslavia, Libya...
    1. +6
      20 December 2025 11: 37
      Because there simply was no official doctrine. Germany, arguably, had ground operations (and possibly bribes) in the first and second Iraq wars, and in any case, the forces were too unequal to serve as an example.
    2. +5
      20 December 2025 11: 58
      Quote: Konnick
      And so the theory has been confirmed and continues to be confirmed...remember Germany, Iraq, Yugoslavia, Libya...
      Germany had just refuted Douhet's theory: production there grew under the bombing, and they didn't surrender, forcing them to take Berlin. In Iraq, both times, ground operations were decisive. So what was so special about Douhet's style in Libya?
    3. Alf
      +3
      20 December 2025 19: 55
      Quote: Konnick
      Iraq, Yugoslavia, Libya...

      Holy shit, what "powerful" opponents... And their air defense... it's scary to even think about.
  8. +5
    20 December 2025 13: 01
    About the MS 406 with its Plymax aluminum-plywood skin

    I can't imagine how plywood can be fused with aluminum. My search suggests gluing, but such an adhesive must have some very interesting properties...
    1. +8
      20 December 2025 16: 50
      Such glue must have very interesting properties...

      The glue used was urea-formaldehyde, Aerolite. The material's properties are truly quite interesting. If you're interested, check out https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2666682020300049
  9. 0
    20 December 2025 16: 59
    I was interested in this photo, first of all, what kind of place is this? And then the stars on the wings. That's what I found. It's funny. Then this country made the B-17 and not only them. And it's just like Petrovich.
    1. +6
      20 December 2025 18: 45
      I already wrote that the photo was substituted by an auto-editor. I myself simply wanted to attach LeO 451.
  10. +3
    20 December 2025 18: 04
    Quote: Nikname2025
    https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2666682020300049

    Thank you, I enjoyed reading it.
  11. +5
    20 December 2025 18: 53
    At the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, "Naval nonsense" flourished in France, followed by "Military aviation nonsense".
    As they say: Monsieur knows a thing or two about perversion!
    1. +6
      20 December 2025 20: 18
      At the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries, "Naval nonsense" flourished in France.
      That's true! The way the French tormented the navy, even the Russian Navy would be envious!
  12. +1
    20 December 2025 18: 57
    now the idea of ​​a multi-purpose aircraft seems inherently flawed,

    ?
    1. +4
      20 December 2025 19: 22
      What ???
      That a multi-purpose machine, all other things being equal, will be inferior to specialized ones in each specialization?
      1. 0
        22 December 2025 13: 22
        If we consider the traditional triad: armament, protection, mobility, then yes. But in real life, this turns into a spherical horse in a vacuum.
        You ask why? I'll answer. Because this approach forgets the fourth characteristic of any weapon: It must exist. It must be in the right place, at the right time. Moreover, it must be expendable. And with a multi-purpose weapon, this is much easier to achieve.
        It's amazing to read this in your article!
        Incidentally, virtually ALL modern fighters are highly effective at hitting ground targets without sacrificing their air-to-air capabilities. The problem is, converting a twin-engine bomber into a multirole aircraft was flawed. I agree with that.
  13. 0
    20 December 2025 21: 48
    Quote: Luminman
    And if we compare the ongoing circus with horses in France with the same period in the USSR, then those interested in this topic are surely aware of how harmoniously the Soviet government worked to create its own aviation industry before World War II...


    Are you talking about the St. Polikarpov mess and Kaganovich's suicide?
    1. +6
      21 December 2025 07: 07
      Quote: deddem
      Are you talking about the St. Polikarpov mess and Kaganovich's suicide?
      Our chaos, compared to the chaos of pre-war France, is nothing more than a pioneer's lightning...
  14. +3
    20 December 2025 22: 22
    I don’t quite agree about the lack of a French analogue to NAKA and TsAGI.
    The Technical Research Service was created in 1928, and a wind tunnel was built for it in Châlais-Meudon. However, in 1933, its budget was drastically cut, its director (Albert Kakô) resigned, and it only recovered after being reorganized as ONERA after the war.
  15. +6
    21 December 2025 07: 37
    Thanks to everyone who responded. I'll be back to continue.
  16. +5
    21 December 2025 08: 26
    Excellent article. I'll add it to my collection.
  17. -5
    21 December 2025 13: 44
    Confusion instead of music. My advice to the author: don't mix politics (trade unions, workers' rights, etc.) with technology. If you write about airplanes, write specifically about airplanes and their designers, not about the political conflicts in France in the 30s. All this talk about French workers' rights and working hours has nothing to do with airplanes.
    1. +5
      21 December 2025 15: 02
      These conflicts had a direct bearing on the production of aircraft, or more precisely, on their quantity.
      Things were even worse with experimental aircraft construction - a two-month strike meant a two-month delay in production.
  18. +3
    21 December 2025 14: 20
    It's been a while since I've seen such a useful and detailed article. Thank you, very interesting!
  19. +2
    21 December 2025 22: 42
    This is how one should write about France's armored and motorized units before September 1, 1939. Instead, they write about millimeters of armor, armor plate slopes, millimeters of gun caliber, and gasoline/diesel engine horsepower. It's not the millimeters that fight—it's the formations!
  20. 0
    22 December 2025 13: 06
    Even with such a long article, I still can't figure out why the accompanying picture is of a Martin B-10/12, especially in American display paint. This aircraft only gets one paragraph, and it didn't even make it to France. Or was the article supposed to draw attention to itself with a pretty picture?
    1. 0
      22 December 2025 13: 14
      I've already answered twice - this is the work of the auto editor. I wanted to put 451
      1. 0
        22 December 2025 15: 00
        Got it)) Damn) Although, I personally like the Martin, in this particular livery, and I'm even planning to build a model of it. But there are some nice French bombers of that era, too, like the Leo or some Potezes... They say they were even sometimes confused with Messerschmitt-110s...
        1. 0
          22 December 2025 15: 23
          They didn't say, but they confused. At least two were shot down by their own—one by a Khariton and one by a D 520 (although it was possibly an MS 406).
  21. +1
    22 December 2025 13: 26
    Quote: sivuch
    a two-month strike meant a two-month delay in production

    What an optimist you are, sir!
    Given the, shall we say, delicate nature of the process itself, the dependency there was likely much more serious. From personal production experience, I know that any delay at the beginning of the process results in multiple time losses down the line.
    1. 0
      22 December 2025 15: 25
      Well, I'm not arguing. You can still make up for it in serial production, but not in pilot production.
  22. -1
    22 December 2025 13: 30
    Quote: kalibr
    While you read the end, you forget the beginning.

    Oh!
  23. 0
    16 February 2026 10: 52
    Thanks for the analysis. Articles like this help us better understand that control is more important than millimeters of armor, machine gun caliber, and so on.