Manufacturer: Plastyk
Scale: 1/72
Additional parts: none
Model build: May - Jul 2024

Manufacturer: Plastyk
Scale: 1/72
Additional parts: none
Model build: May - Jul 2024
The desert sun beat down on Hauptmann Hassan Ibrahim as he gripped the controls of his Focke-Wulf FW-190D. Sweat beaded on his brow despite the open cockpit. Across the shimmering sands, wisps of smoke rose from a kibbutz, a signal of Israeli aggression. Ibrahim had joined the Egyptian Air Force just months ago, a fresh graduate thrust into the crucible of the 1948 war.
His trainer, Herr Steiner, a gruff German expatriate with a haunted look in his eyes, had pounded the finer points of the FW-190 into Ibrahim. It was a beast of a machine, powerful and agile, but unforgiving of mistakes. Steiner himself was a riddle, a brilliant engineer who'd fled Germany after the war, bringing whispers of advanced jet fighters that never materialized. Now, he channeled his restless energy into training these Egyptian pilots, a flicker of his former fire rekindled in their eager eyes.
Suddenly, the crackle of the radio broke the tense silence. "Attention all fighters! Bogies spotted ten klicks north! Avias!" A familiar knot of dread formed in Ibrahim's stomach. The Avia S-199s, the Czech-built versions of the Me 109, were their aerial adversaries. On paper, the FW-190 was superior, but the Israelis possessed a reputation for daring tactics and exceptional pilot skill.
As they approached, the distinctive profile of the Avias filled Ibrahim's vision. Four sleek machines, shark-like against the azure sky. He glanced at his wingman, Farid, a wiry young man with a reckless glint in his eyes. They peeled off from the main formation, diving in a surprise attack.
The air erupted in a cacophony of machine-gun fire and cannon fire. Ibrahim hammered on his controls, his FW-190 responding with a fighter's grace. He got a lucky break, his burst catching the engine of a trailing Avia. The Israeli plane sputtered, then trailed black smoke as it spiraled out of control towards the desert floor.
The remaining Avias scattered, their superior climbing ability momentarily giving them the edge. Ibrahim fought to keep his sights on one, a relentless dance across the endless expanse of sand. His tracers sparked harmlessly off the Avia's fuselage. Frustration gnawed at him. Steiner's voice echoed in his head, "Patience, Hauptmann. The 190 rewards precision, not frenzy."
Taking a deep breath, Ibrahim forced himself to slow down, anticipating his opponent's moves. The Avia banked sharply, and for a fleeting moment, its belly was exposed. Seizing the opportunity, Ibrahim squeezed the trigger in a short, controlled burst. A plume of fire blossomed from the Avia's engine. The Israeli pilot ejected, a crimson parachute blossoming against the blue.
Ibrahim and Farid regrouped with the remainder of the Egyptian force. Two more Avias lay smoldering wrecks on the desert floor, testaments to their daring raid. But the victory was bittersweet. One of their own FW-190s had been clipped by an Avia's cannon fire, limping back to base with a trail of smoke.
Landing back at their makeshift airstrip, Ibrahim was greeted by Steiner's grim visage. The engineer's eyes held a flicker of pride, but it was overshadowed by the ever-present worry etched on his face. "Good work, boys," Steiner rasped, his voice thick with a German accent. "But we lost another. Spare parts are running low. Those Avias won't give up easily."
Ibrahim nodded solemnly. He knew the odds were stacked against them. Their ragtag force, cobbled together from the remnants of the Luftwaffe and fueled by the ingenuity of a displaced German engineer, was facing a determined enemy. But as he climbed out of his FW-190, the thrill of the fight still coursed through him. He was a pilot, a defender of his nation, and he would fight for every inch of Egyptian sky, for as long as his Focke-Wulf could fly.

When the guns of the Second World War fell silent in 1945, the victors divided not only Europe but also its minds. Scientists, engineers, and designers — many of them veterans of Germany’s vast aviation industry — became coveted prizes in the shadow war that followed. Some went willingly to the United States under Operation Paperclip, others to Britain, France, or the Soviet Union.
Yet a few chose a different path — to places far from the battlefields of Europe. Among them was Franz Hüttensted, a former Focke-Wulf engineer who found himself dreaming not of vengeance or politics, but of resurrection.
In 1946, Hüttensted and a small team of ex-Focke-Wulf technicians quietly emigrated to Egypt, then ruled by King Farouk and eager to modernize its military. The group’s goal was as audacious as it was improbable: to build a modern jet-powered fighter in the desert.
How the Germans arrived — and with what — remains the subject of speculation to this day. Documents unearthed in the 1980s suggest that Hüttensted leveraged his wartime contacts with British industry, possibly arranging a covert “technical exchange” that allowed several Focke-Wulf aircraft and parts to be transferred from the British occupation zone in Germany to Alexandria.
By late 1947, an astonishing assortment of machines had arrived at a workshop outside Heliopolis:
– A dozen Focke-Wulf Fw 190 D-9 “Dora” fighters, many stripped or damaged but restorable.
– Three twin-boom Fw 189 “Uhu” reconnaissance aircraft.
– Crates containing incomplete jet prototypes, including wing sections and Jumo 004 engine components.
Working under primitive conditions and assisted by Egyptian technicians, the German engineers began resurrecting the old Doras. By early 1948, the Egyptian Air Force had at least 17 airworthy Fw 190Ds and three Fw 189s — the most modern fighters in the Middle East at that time.
Then, in May 1948, Israel declared independence — and the skies over Palestine erupted in war.
The newly formed Israeli Air Force fielded a patchwork of aircraft, among them the Avia S-199, a Czechoslovak-built derivative of the Messerschmitt Bf 109G. Ironically, many of its pilots were veterans of the Allied air forces — now facing German-designed aircraft flown by Egyptian crews trained by German instructors.
Over the Negev and Sinai, Doras met Messerschmitts once again — but on opposite sides of history.
While the Fw 190D was technically superior — faster, better armed, and sturdier — Egypt’s pilots lacked combat experience. The Doras achieved several victories during the first days of fighting, particularly in ground attack roles, strafing Israeli convoys and downing a handful of S-199s and Spitfires. But poor maintenance, shortage of spare parts, and limited training soon eroded their effectiveness.
By June 1948, attrition and mechanical failure had reduced the Egyptian fleet to three operational Fw 190Ds. One of them was destroyed in a crash landing outside Al-Arish, another was abandoned on the runway at El Kantara when its engine seized. The last remaining aircraft was withdrawn from combat and relegated to training duties.
After the war, Hüttensted’s ambitions to develop a native Egyptian jet fighter never materialized. Political upheaval, the fall of King Farouk, and growing Soviet influence in Cairo put an end to his program. Most of the Focke-Wulfs were scrapped by the early 1950s, replaced by British Meteors and later Soviet MiGs.
Only one survivor escaped destruction — a sun-faded Fw 190 D-9, serial number W.Nr. 601568. Restored in the 1970s, it now stands in the Egyptian Air Force Museum in Cairo, its German origins discreetly omitted from the information plaque.
The model shows the only surviving FW109D as it is shown in the museum today.

This is a 1/72 scale model of the FW109D by Plastyk (never heard of this manufacturer before) and its was a very cheap kit with just over 3€ in a Polish online store.
Now so many parts, but still not too bad to build, better than expected. The model is built OOD, just the antenna was added. Airbrushed with Revell Aqua and decals from the spare part box.