Manufacturer: Heller
Scale: 1/72 (1/100)
Additional parts: 3D prints
Model build: Jun - Nov 2020
Manufacturer: Heller
Scale: 1/72 (1/100)
Additional parts: 3D prints
Model build: Jun - Nov 2020
May 1945, Peenemünde Airfield, Germany
The air hung heavy with the stench of burnt metal and cordite. Hangars lay in smoldering ruins, testaments to the final desperate attempts to defend the base. Amidst the wreckage, a lone figure, Major Franz Ritter, navigated the debris field. Ritter, a jaded Luftwaffe pilot with haunted eyes, was on a mission of his own – to secure the prize of Peenemünde: the prototype Focke-Wulf FW 811, a jet bomber unlike any other.
The FW 811, a sleek, twin-engine monster, was shrouded in secrecy even amongst Luftwaffe high command. Whispers of its unmatched speed and destructive potential had reached Ritter's ears, and he saw it as Germany's last, desperate hope. But as he approached the hangar, his heart sank. The bomber sat unfinished, a half-cocked masterpiece. The war was over, and with it, Germany's dreams of aeronautical dominance.
Dejected, Ritter slumped against the fuselage. Suddenly, a glint of movement caught his eye. A figure emerged from the shadows – a young French Resistance fighter, Colette Dupont. Their eyes met, a tense stand-off. Colette, armed with a glint of defiance in her eyes, saw the bomber as a symbol of Nazi aggression. Ritter, weary and disillusioned, saw it as a lost cause.
A tense negotiation ensued. Ritter, desperate to keep the FW 811 from falling into Allied hands, proposed a daring plan. He would fly the incomplete bomber out, a ghost ship vanishing into the night. Colette, torn between her duty and a flicker of intrigue, saw a chance to exploit this strange aircraft for French interests. A fragile alliance was forged.
Under the cloak of darkness, Ritter and Colette, an unlikely pair united by a strange purpose, prepped the FW 811 for a flight it was never designed for. Working through the night, they fueled the engines, jury-rigged the incomplete systems, and prayed it would hold together. As dawn approached, casting an eerie orange glow over the ravaged airfield, Ritter climbed into the cockpit.
The engines coughed and sputtered to life, a guttural roar that echoed through the ruins. With a jolt, the FW 811 lurched forward, the uneven thrust barely keeping it from careening off the runway. Ritter wrestled with the controls, the unfinished aircraft a barely tamed beast. He lifted off, a plume of black smoke trailing behind him, and banked towards the east, the French border a glimmering hope on the horizon.
France, 1952
Years passed. The embers of war had cooled, replaced by the nascent flames of the Cold War. In a secret hangar, a new jet bomber, the SNCASO Vautour, gleamed under the harsh lights. Test pilots marveled at its sleek design and unheard-of speed. But to Colette Dupont, now a high-ranking French intelligence official, the Vautour held a deeper meaning. She saw in its silhouette the ghost of Peenemünde – the unfinished FW 811, the desperate flight, and the pact forged in the ashes of war.
The legacy of the FW 811 remained a secret, a footnote in history. But for Ritter and Colette, it was a shared experience, a reminder of the fine line between ambition and destruction, and the strange bonds forged in the crucible of war.

In the chaotic final phase of the Second World War, Germany’s aircraft industry produced a flood of jet projects — some visionary, others desperate. While only a handful reached completion, many reflected the Reich’s determination to find a technological miracle to turn the tide. One of the least known among these efforts was the Focke-Wulf FW 811, a sleek tactical jet bomber conceived as a replacement for the Arado Ar 234 Blitz.
Work on the FW 811 began in the summer of 1944 under the direction of Kurt Tank, who envisioned a high-speed, twin-engine strike aircraft capable of outperforming the Arado in range, payload, and maintainability. The Luftwaffe’s Taktisches Angriffsflugzeug requirement demanded a jet-powered bomber that could carry at least a 1,500-kg bomb load at speeds above 800 km/h, while being simpler to manufacture under wartime conditions.
The FW 811 retained a general configuration similar to the Ar 234 — twin jet engines under a high-mounted, swept wing — but incorporated several aerodynamic and structural improvements. The fuselage was longer and cleaner, with retractable tricycle landing gear and a redesigned cockpit canopy offering superior visibility. Construction followed the Gemischtbauweise principle: the forward fuselage and internal frame were of light alloy, while the outer wing panels and control surfaces were made of wood to save strategic materials.
Power was to come from two Jumo 004C engines, though provisions existed to later fit the more advanced HeS 011 once it entered production. With the Jumo engines, the FW 811 was expected to reach around 850 km/h — about 50 km/h faster than the Ar 234 — with a combat range of roughly 1,400 kilometers.
By December 1944, a full-scale wooden mockup was completed at the Focke-Wulf plant in Cottbus, and early in 1945, assembly of the first prototype, designated FW 811 V1, began. Despite material shortages and frequent air raids, progress continued surprisingly well. By late April, the aircraft stood nearly finished — fuselage, engines, and undercarriage in place, awaiting final electrical installations. Test pilot Hans Sander was reportedly preparing for taxi trials when Soviet troops approached the facility in early May.
The fate of the FW 811 after Germany’s surrender remained a mystery for decades. Postwar rumors suggested that the nearly complete prototype and associated design documents were seized by the French military intelligence unit Mission T and transported to Toulouse. Newly declassified files later confirmed this. The airframe was studied at the SNCASO works but never made flight status.
Nonetheless, many aviation historians note the FW 811’s influence on the postwar SNCASO SO.4050 Vautour, which first flew in 1952. The resemblance — twin engines under a swept wing, slender fuselage, and tricycle undercarriage — was more than superficial. Though never flown, the FW 811 left an invisible trace in aviation history, its spirit reborn in another era’s jet age.
Forgotten in Germany and lost in France, the Focke-Wulf FW 811 stands today as one of the last unfulfilled visions of the Third Reich’s desperate quest for aerial supremacy — a ghost of innovation that never took to the skies.

The model is a 1/100 scale Heller kit of the Vantour. It's a pretty simple kit, build mainly OOB, lust with a few parts 3D printed. The bomb payload and decals come from the spare part box. The model is painted with Revell Aqua Color.