I’ve wanted to do a Stuka for a long time and my PE accessories which I purchased for the next in my series of Galland’s Crates hasn’t even shipped yet and God only knows when they’ll get here after they do ship -I’ve had packages from Eduard held-up in customs for weeks after reaching the United States.
I need something to build now that my G2 TROP is finally in the painting stages (update on that later). This Stuka, with its 300+ parts, ought to keep me plenty busy, and keep the withdrawals away. This’ll be an out of the box build, I don’t care that Trumpeter didn’t get the cowl and spats 100% right. I’ve downloded a lot of references and to my eye, it’s close enough.
I’m excited. Engine work will begin this evening or tomorrow during my lunch break at the latest. Here’s some preliminaries-
The box. I love the artwork:
What you’re greeted by when you open the box:
Here is a sprue, neatly packaged (each is individually wrapped). This bastard is gonna be huge:
Some cockpit sidewall detail:
And here’s the paint scheme I’ll be using. I like the schnauzer dog decal used on this variant, it reminds me of my Step Father, who conceded his third battle with cancer a little over a year and a half ago. Schnauzer dogs remind me of my Step Father. He was gray. Had a gray beard. He was German. He owned a copy of “Mein Kampf” which was signed by Der Burgermeißter. NO, he was not a NAZI sympathizer. He just liked German history. All of this is what drew me to this subject in-particular:
Eastern Front. Russia. Adolf Galland has a lot to say, about Russia and how the High Command went wrong picking this as the second of a war on two fronts. And for these aircraft, that job could not have been easy. The Luftwaffe relied on the Stukas (for better or worse), to blast a pathway in for the army and armored divisions. I’m willing to wager that this out tremendous strain and wear on the aircraft. So I plan to really weather this divebomber, using it as a test bed for more weathering techniques in-preparation for other projects.
I feel like my Step Father would dig this. Here he is:
He and my mom ran off when I was two. No hard feelings. He wasn’t a dick. He wasn’t a bad Step dad. He taught me how to play chess. He always took the time to talk to me, about whatever weird/deep/whatever stuff I wanted to talk about. He made me feel like a smart person when everybody else, including my actual dad, made me feel like a fuckup.
He was an absolute divebomber of a man when it came to life. He competed in the Senior Olympics not once but TWICE, during two separate battles with cancer over the course of almost 12 years. He never lost his “Lust For Life”, as Iggy Pop once put it. SO, in the words of another poet and musician I love, Jim Carrol: “...and Bobby, I miss you more than all the others. And this one is for you my brother!”
