Manufacturer: Revell
Scale: 1/72
Additional parts: thinhs from the spare part box
Model build: Oct-Nov 2015

Manufacturer: Revell
Scale: 1/72
Additional parts: thinhs from the spare part box
Model build: Oct-Nov 2015
The crisp November air bit at Hauptmann Franz Hartmann's face as he climbed into the cockpit of his Messerschmitt RF-262. This wasn't just any Me 262, though. This was "Schattenjäger" (Shadow Hunter), the last of its kind – a relic of the past reborn for a new Cold War mission.
Hartmann, a veteran of the Luftwaffe's glory days, had mixed feelings about piloting the "Spatz" (Sparrow) again. The sleek lines and the scream of the jet engines brought back a flood of memories, some exhilarating, some deeply painful. But nostalgia was a luxury he couldn't afford. Today, his mission was critical.
His orders: a high-altitude reconnaissance run along the East German border, codenamed "Eisvogel" (Kingfisher). Tensions had been simmering since the Pilsen Incident five years ago, when Hartmann's predecessor, Kesselmaier, had strayed into Czech airspace with this very aircraft, capturing sensitive photos of Soviet troop movements.
The mission was simple on paper. Takeoff, intel gathering, return. But Hartmann knew better. The East Germans had their own jets now, the Soviet-built MiG-17s, and their radars would be hot. He strapped himself in, a grim determination settling over him.
As Schattenjäger pierced the sound barrier, a tremor ran through the aging airframe. It wasn't the most comfortable ride, but Hartmann pushed the throttles further, needing every ounce of speed. Minutes ticked by, filled only by the roar of the engines and the rhythmic crackle of the radio.
Suddenly, the tension in the cockpit spiked. A high-pitched whine pierced the air – radar lock. Glancing at his instruments, Hartmann confirmed his worst fears. Two blips on the radar, closing fast – MiGs.
"Schattenjäger to base, bogies inbound, two MiGs, ten o'clock, closing!" he barked into the mic.
"Eisvogel, this is base. Evasive maneuvers authorized. Repeat, evasive maneuvers authorized."
Hartmann knew evading in a straight line was a fool's game. The Me 262, though a marvel in its day, was outmatched by the newer MiGs. He dipped the nose, skimming the treetops in a desperate bid to throw off his pursuers. The forest blurred below, a tapestry of browns and greens. The G-forces pressed him into his seat, threatening to black him out.
But the MiGs were relentless. He felt the heat signature of their missiles lock on, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. Just as he thought it was over, a stroke of luck. A dense cloud bank loomed ahead.
"Taking cover in cloud cover, base!" he yelled, throwing Schattenjäger into a tight spiral. He fought to regain control as the plane buffeted in the turbulence. The radar signature on his screen flickered, then disappeared. Relief washed over him, temporary and fragile.
He emerged from the clouds, heart pounding, checking his fuel gauge. It was getting low. He had to get back to base, and fast. With a heavy heart, he activated the self-destruct sequence for the Adlerauge recon pod, sacrificing the mission's objective for his own survival.
The base scrambled a pair of F-104 Starfighters to escort him back. As Schattenjäger touched down, the setting sun casting a long shadow on the runway, a wave of exhaustion washed over him. He had cheated death, but for how long?
The debriefing was tense. The mission was a failure, but Hartmann had returned alive. As he walked away from the debriefing room, he glanced at Schattenjäger, a pang of sadness in his chest. Tomorrow, it would be flown to a museum, a final resting place for a Cold War warrior. The age of the Me 262 was truly over.
But as he turned to leave, a glint of metallic blue in the fading light caught his eye. A row of brand new F-104s stood gleaming on the tarmac, their sleek lines a promise of a future where the fight for freedom continued, in faster, deadlier machines.

The introduction of the Bundesluftwaffe in 1955 brought with it the urgent need for modern combat aircraft. While NATO partners such as the United States and France offered surplus jets, the newly formed German air force faced a particular gap: a dedicated close-range reconnaissance aircraft. Existing Western designs were deemed unsuitable for the task.
It was within this context that former Luftwaffe officers, many of whom had direct experience with jet operations in the final year of the war, proposed an unexpected solution: the revival of the Messerschmitt Me 262, updated with modern technology.
Contrary to persistent rumors, no wartime aircraft were rebuilt from stored parts. Instead, 18 entirely new airframes were constructed by Messerschmitt between late 1954 and early 1955. Aerodynamically, the RF 262 remained very close to the wartime fighter, but it was fitted with modernized jet engines providing more reliable thrust, improved fuel efficiency, and simplified maintenance.
Key modifications included:
Reconnaissance equipment pod (LAK-55/A “Adlerauge”) mounted under the fuselage, housing high-resolution cameras and infrared sensors.
Updated cockpit featuring NATO-standard avionics, radio, and navigation gear.
Ejection seat to meet contemporary safety requirements.
Retention of the 4 × 30 mm MK 108 cannons, allowing the aircraft to serve in a dual reconnaissance/strike role.
The RF 262 entered service in 1955 with two reconnaissance staffeln. Though initially intended as an interim solution until the arrival of the RF-84F Thunderflash, the aircraft remained in service until 1962, its versatility and speed proving valuable in NATO exercises.
By 1960, the four surviving frontline aircraft were retrofitted to carry AIM-9 Sidewinder missiles, marking them as some of the earliest Bundesluftwaffe aircraft with air-to-air missile capability.
Perhaps the most famous episode involving the RF 262 occurred on 17 September 1956, when an aircraft piloted by Leutnant Karl Kesselmaier inadvertently strayed into Czechoslovakian airspace near Pilsen. Although officially declared a “navigational error,” Bundesluftwaffe archives later revealed that the RF 262’s Adlerauge pod captured detailed imagery of Soviet troop deployments in the region.
Intercepted by two Czech Avia S-92s (locally produced Me 262s built after the war), Kesselmaier evaded his pursuers through a combination of superior engine performance and tactical diving maneuvers, returning safely to West German airspace. The incident caused diplomatic tensions but also demonstrated the aircraft’s continuing edge over older jet technology.
Between 1955 and 1962, the RF 262 fleet logged over 2,500 flight hours. Four aircraft were lost in crashes, mostly attributed to mechanical failures typical of early jet technology. The surviving aircraft were retired by mid-1962, replaced by the more modern RF-84F and, later, the RF-104G Starfighter.
Three RF 262s escaped scrapping and were preserved. One remains on display at the Deutsches Museum in Munich, another at the Bundeswehr Military History Museum in Berlin-Gatow, and the third was transferred to the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum, where it remains a unique reminder of this little-known chapter of Cold War aviation.
The model shows the last Messerschmitt RF262 in November 1961 just before it was decomissioned and transported to the Luftwaffen-Museum at Appen.

The RF262 was build from a quite old 1/72 Revell kit. Mainly build OOB, the cockpit interiour was a bit updated (as the model did not had any of it). The Sidewinders and pylons were taken form the spare part box, the LAK-55/A was made form a 1/288 scale An.24 engine pod. Painted swith Revell Aqua Color, the decals are a wild mix form the spare part box and the oringial ones of the model (Some of them were too old I fear).