Dimitar Spisarevski (19 Jully 1916-20 December 1943) was a Bulgarian
fighter pilot known for taking down an American bomber by ramming it during the
bombing of Sofia in World War II.
It was not the Jewish question that invited Allied bombing
in November 1943, though many Bulgarians assumed that it was. The first raids
seemed to presage an onslaught of aerial punishment, and the population of the
capital gave way to a temporary panic. Yet the first two attacks in November
were followed by two desultory operations the next month and nothing more. Some
209 inhabitants in Sofia had been killed and 247 buildings damaged. The “sharp
lesson” was not sharp enough for the Allies, because it did little to encourage
Bulgaria to seek a political solution, while the military value of the attacks
was at best limited, hampered by poor bombing accuracy and gloomy Balkan weather.
On Christmas Day 1943, Churchill wrote to Eden that the “heaviest possible air
attacks” were now planned for Sofia in the hope that this might result in more
productive “political reactions.” On January 4, 1944, a large force of 108 B-17
Flying Fortresses was dispatched to Sofia, but with poor visibility the attack
was aborted after a few bombs were dropped on a bridge. Finally, on January 10,
1944, the first heavy attack was mounted by 141 B-17s, supported during the
night of January 10–11 by a force of some forty-four RAF Wellington bombers.
This attack was devastating for the Bulgarian capital: there were 750 dead and
710 seriously injured, with widespread damage to residential housing and public
buildings. The air-raid sirens failed to sound because of a power cut. This
time the population panicked entirely, creating a mass exodus. By January 16,
300,000 people had left the capital. The government abandoned the
administrative district and moved out to nearby townships. It took more than
two weeks to restore services in the capital, while much of the population
abandoned it permanently in fear of a repeat attack. On January 23 the German
ambassador telegraphed back to Berlin that the bombing had changed completely
the “psychological-political situation,” exposing the incompetence of the
authorities and raising the danger of Bulgarian defection. The government
ordered church bells to be pealed as an air-raid warning, in case of further
power cuts.
The second major raid, of January 10, did pay political
dividends. While Filov tried unsuccessfully to persuade a visiting German
general, Walter Warlimont, deputy for operations on Hitler’s staff, to mount a
revenge attack on neutral Istanbul—the consequences of which might well have
been even more disastrous for Bulgaria—most Bulgarian leaders had come to
realize that the German connection had to be severed as soon as possible and a
deal struck with the Allies. The bishop of Sofia used the occasion of the
funeral for the victims of the bombing to launch an attack on the government
for tying Bulgaria to Germany and failing to save the people from war. That
month an effort was made to get the Soviet Union to intercede with the Western
Allies to stop the bombing, but instead Moscow increased its pressure on
Bulgaria to abandon its support for the Axis. In February the first informal
contacts were made with the Allies through a Bulgarian intermediary in Istanbul
to see whether terms could be agreed upon for an armistice. Although hope for
negotiation had been the principal reason for starting the bombing, the Allied
reaction to the first Bulgarian approach following the raids was mixed.
Roosevelt wrote to Churchill on February 9 suggesting that the bombing should
now be suspended if the Bulgarians wanted to talk, a view shared by British
diplomats in the Middle Eastern headquarters in Cairo. Churchill scrawled
“why?” in the margin of the letter. He was opposed to ending the bombing
despite a recent report from the British Joint Intelligence Committee (JIC),
which observed that the first bombing in November 1943 had achieved no
“decisive political result.” He had already authorized the bombing of the
Bulgarian ports of Burgas and Varna, which were added to the list of priority
targets, subject to political considerations. In January 1944 the British War
Cabinet, in the event of a German gas attack, considered the possibility of
retaliatory gas bomb attacks against Germany and its allies, and included
Bulgaria on the list. On February 12, Churchill replied to Roosevelt that in
his view the bombing had had “exactly the effect we hoped for” and urged him to
accept the argument that bombing should continue until the Bulgarians began
full and formal negotiations: “If the medicine has done good, let them have
more of it.” Roosevelt immediately wired back his full agreement: “Let the good
work go on.”
Some of the evidence coming out of Bulgaria seemed to
support Churchill’s stance. Intelligence reports arrived detailing the rapid
expansion of both the communist partisan movement and the Fatherland Front. The
partisans contacted the Allies through a British liaison officer stationed in
Bulgaria, encouraging them to keep up the bombing in order to provoke the
collapse of the pro-German regime and help expand support for the resistance.
The partisans sent details about the central administrative area in Sofia,
bordered by the recently renamed Adolfi Hitler Boulevard, which they said was
ripe for attack; at the same time, partisan leaders asked the Allies not to
bomb the working-class districts of Sofia, from which most of their recruits
were drawn. By March the partisans were finally organized by the Bulgarian
communists into the National Liberation Revolutionary Army. As a result of the
evidence on the ground, the Western Allies, with Stalin’s continued though
secret support (the Soviet Union did not want Bulgarians to think they had
actively abetted the bombing), accepted Eden’s argument that by “turning on the
heat” on Bulgarian cities it might shortly be possible either to provoke a coup
d’état or to batter the government into suing for peace. On March 10, Sir
Charles Portal told Churchill that he had ordered heavy attacks on Sofia and
other Bulgarian cities as soon as possible.
On March 16 and then on March 29–30 the Allies launched the
most destructive attacks of all on Sofia, as well as subsidiary attacks on
Burgas, Varna, and Plovdiv in the interior, designed to disrupt rail
communications and sea traffic for the Turkish trade with Germany. The attacks
were aimed predominantly at the administrative city center of Sofia and carried
a proportion of incendiaries, 4,000 in all, in order to do to Sofia what had
been done so effectively to German targets. The raid of March 16 burned down
the royal palace; the heavy raid of March 29–30 by 367 B-17s and B-24s, this
time carrying 30,000 incendiaries, created a widespread conflagration,
destroying the Holy Synod of the Bulgarian Orthodox Church, the National
Theater, several ministries, and a further 3,575 buildings, but killing only
139 of the population that had remained. The last major raid, on April 17 by
350 American bombers, destroyed a further 750 buildings and heavily damaged the
rail marshaling yard. During 1944 the death toll in Sofia was 1,165, a figure
that would have been considerably higher had it not been for the voluntary
evacuation of the capital. The incendiary attacks hastened the disintegration
of Bulgarian politics and increased support for the Soviet Union, whose armies
were now within striking distance. But only on June 20, 1944, several months
after the bombing, did the new government of Ivan Bagryanov begin formal
negotiations for an end to Bulgarian belligerency, still hoping to keep
Bulgaria’s territorial spoils and avoid Allied occupation. By this time the
Allies had lost interest in bombing Bulgaria, which slipped further down the
list of priority targets as the bombers turned their attention to Budapest and
Bucharest in the path of the oncoming Red Army.
By the summer of 1944 the Allies had other preoccupations,
and it seemed evident that Bulgarian politics had been sufficiently destabilized
by the bombing to make further attacks redundant. Nevertheless, the final
assessment of the effects of the bombing was ambivalent. In July the U.S. Joint
Chiefs of Staff prepared an evaluation of the Balkan bombings which suggested
that the psychological effects desired had largely been achieved; the report
nevertheless suggested that the enemy had sustained an effective propaganda
campaign about the high level of civilian casualties, which had undermined the
prestige of both the United States and Britain in the eyes of the Bulgarian
people. The chiefs directed that in the future any attacks in the region had to
be confined to “targets of definite military importance” and civilian
casualties minimized. The British chiefs of staff rejected the American claim,
and, in defiance of what they well knew to be the case, insisted that only
military targets had been subject to attack, even if this had involved damage
to housing and civilian deaths. Their report concluded that Allied bombers
ought always to be able to act in this way and that operations “should not be
prejudiced by undue regard for the probable scale of incidental casualties.”
This was a view consistent with everything the RAF had argued and practiced
since the switch to the deliberate bombing of German civilians in 1941.
For the historian the judgment is more complex. Bombing
almost certainly contributed to the collapse of any pro-German consensus and
strengthened the hand both of the moderate center-left in the Fatherland Front
and of the more radical partisan movement. But in the end this did not result
in a complete change of government until September 9, 1944, when the Soviet
presence produced a Fatherland Front administration dominated by the Bulgarian
Communist Party (a political outcome that neither Churchill nor Eden had wanted
from the bombing). Moreover, other factors played an important role in
Bulgarian calculations: the crisis provoked by Italian defeat and surrender in
September 1943; the German retreat in the Soviet Union; and fear of a possible
Allied Balkan invasion or of Turkish intervention. Where Churchill saw bombing
as a primitive instrument for provoking political crisis and insisted
throughout the period from October 1943 to March 1944 that this was the key to
knocking Bulgaria out of the war, the American military chiefs continued to
give preference to the bombing of Italy and Germany and were less persuaded
that a political dividend was certain. For them the bombing fitted with the
strategy of wearing down Germany’s capacity for waging war by interrupting the
supply of vital war matériel and forcing the diversion of German military units
from the imminent Normandy campaign. There was also a price to pay for the
bombing. In September 1944, following the Bulgarian surrender, some 332
American air force prisoners of war were sent by air shuttle to Istanbul and
then on to Cairo; some had been shot down while bombing Bulgaria, others on
their way to or from attacks on Romanian targets. An American report suggested
that the prisoners had been badly maltreated. Two air force prisoners were
killed by the Bulgarian police, and an estimated 175 American war dead were presumed
to be on Bulgarian territory, although only eighty-four bodies could be
located.
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