jonzon 27

Stuka Model, a Luftwaffe pilot's signature
and Buried 109 Treasure

I've just had a nasty op' and my convalescence was employed making this model Stuka.
I'd had my eye on it for some time, tucked away in our local model shop but its price of fifty quid was
a little too much to justify. A period of relative inactivity was my excuse,

The model depicts the first Stuka to come down in Britain in WW2. Photo below:

It was also the first Jerry plane to come down on the Isle of Wight and is the subject of my painting
"Stuka over Steephill Cove".

The story is also featured in
Jonzonline 5
where I tell the experience of the first lad on the scene
at the crash site August 8th 1940.

I'm still using Daler-Rowney artist acrylic and emulsion paints and finish using a dry-brush silver to
pick out the rivets and give the impression of a well used warbird. Some detail above.
For the black areas I used Payne's Grey which I also
mixed with Golden Yellow to make the olive green and with Hookers Green to make the dark splinter camouflage.
As the cockpit mouldings had raised riveting on the framework, I couldn't employ my method of painted
masking tape cut into thin strips. I needed something which would mould itself to the rivet texture and
hit on the idea of painted Cling Film (the stuff you wrap cheese in). This worked a treat. The film is
surprisingly tough and even follows spherical curves. To make it stick, I first laid a small sheet of film as
flat as I could make it by taping its corners and sides to a piece of stiff card.
Then I sprayed it with craft spray-adhesive. When tacky, I laid it
over with a sheet of shiny release paper (like the stuff you once got in cornflakes packets).
Next I cut this laminate away from the card and painted the Cling-Film side with my
olive green acrylic. This required several coats but was easy to do and fast with the aid of a hair dryer.
All that was now required was to slice the laminate into strips to the width of the
canopy framework, separate from the backing paper and apply to the canopy.
The rivets show through the Cling Film and a light stroking with a
dry-brush silver artist gouache paint completes the job.

Julius Neumann, ex Messerschmitt 109 pilot signs
the painting of his fateful day

This is my painting entitled "Coup de Grace for a 109" which is part of our
"Echoes of the Home Front" series of prints with story-sheets.

A few years ago I sold the original canvas to Richard Kirkland (left above) and as he was touring Germany in his
beautiful camper this Spring (2002), he decided to drop in on Herr Neumann with the painting. The ex Luftwaffe pilot was
delighted to see the picture which he kindly signed there and then.

Herr Neumann then revealed a little more of the story of August 18th 1940, that fateful day he
crash-landed on the Isle of Wight.

Apparently, he was not flying his usual 109 that day as it had been shot-up and was
being repaired. He had borrowed Yellow Six, a spare JG27 aircraft.


I have recently discovered this photo of "Yellow Six
the actual aircraft which crashed 18th August 1940

Until that day, he'd always carried his mascot with him: A small teddy bear which had been given to him by
a girl-friend. The mascot was left in the cockpit of his normal aircraft :Yellow Three. Another chancy thing was that he allowed
himself to be photographed just prior to his mission and that was considered to be unlucky.
When he did not return to base, he was posted as missing until another photograph of him, taken on Euston Station as he was
being escorted on his way to Canada as a POW, was published in the German Press
(link to this photo via Coup de Grace for a 109 link below)

Link to "Coup de Grace for a 109

This Euston Station photo told his mother that he was still alive and she went to his Geshwader HQ to collect his
belongings amongst which was "Teddy". After the war, Julius Neumann was re-united with
his mascot which now sits on the dashboard of his motor car.
This teddy bear must be a real TREASURE!


Julius Neumann's "Teddy"
which flew with him from his first training solo flight and
on to his part in the Battle of Britain in1940

Sleeping, Buried: Another 109 Treasure?

A little while ago, a young chap came into the gallery at Shanklin and got quite interested in the piece of Messerschmitt we have
hanging over the door. It is an underwing radiator air-scoop from the 109 which belly-landed at Bowcombe Down 15th October 1940 (see links below)

Link to "The Souvenir Hunters of Bowcombe Down"

Link to Jonzonline 2 Discovery of the 109 artifact

Anyway: This young chap pipes up "My dad and my uncle and their gang, got a bit of that aeroplane back in 1940 but when
they heard that the police were tracking down the souvenir hunters, they got the wind up. They buried it in the back garden.

"Go on!" says I.

"Yep, my other uncle lives there now and I'm sure he'd let you dig it up"

"Is it a big bit?"

"It 'd take three men to lift it" says he "They were strong lads'n them days!"

It seems that the gang of boys had carried off an entire wing. I do know of a couple of brothers who, as six or
seven year olds managed the engine cowling, so this is quite possible.

A week or so later I phoned the "Other uncle" only to find that the previous evening a well known WW2 aircraft society from
the mainland had been in touch about that very same thing. It was a case of first come, the speedier served. So I went straight away.

Sure enough, permission was given to do a dig but when I saw the garden, It looked as if, that Titchmarsh bloke and
his TV crew had just done a make-over: Patios, pot plants, water features, and a nice little octo-hut stood right over the
buried treasure. No way was I going to hack into that.

Some few days passed and back at the gallery, I became aware of two furtive gentlemen taking a
keen but somewhat disguised interest in the 109 artifact strung over the door.

I started to relate my nice new anecdote about the young chap's dad and uncle and when I got to the part about
the police tracking down the souvenir hunters, one of them chimed in:
"... and they buried it in the back garden!"

"You're from the Hurricane Society" says I.

Sure enough, they were and, they had come to the same conclusion (or so they said):

"The Messerschmitt wing will have to sleep-on: Buried for the time being."