Personal wartime accounts of the G43

[reidmuller]

Can anyone suggest a book, website or documentary anything? in which it has an account written by a soldier who was issued a G43? as i am writeing up a short history for my group on the G43 and realised that i have no personal accounts of how well it faired in the field
also any interesting photos of G41/43's wpuld be nice too

Thanks
Adam

[gew98]

I think in Peter Senich's book on the german sniper there is some info like what you seek in his interview of of scharfschutzen. I recall the soldat did not care much for the G43. I can't blame him - if you have tried to shoot them to any extent you'll find how fragile they really are. You could make a comparison that the G43 was the 'sten gun' of the rifle world with the main difference that the sten gun did work.

[reidmuller]

I think in Peter Senich's book on the german sniper there is some info like what you seek in his interview of of scharfschutzen. I recall the soldat did not care much for the G43. I can't blame him - if you have tried to shoot them to any extent you'll find how fragile they really are. You could make a comparison that the G43 was the 'sten gun' of the rifle world with the main difference that the sten gun did work.

Thanks, thats alot different to what i have heard from modern shooters seem to say about them alot seem to say they work quite well mine although deact i can see it is quite a sturdy design and would perfer one to a K98 but i am bias

on another note has any one got a bigger scan of this photo as i believe the guy furthest back has a G43?

[bodes]

I think in Peter Senich's book on the german sniper there is some info like what you seek in his interview of of scharfschutzen. I recall the soldat did not care much for the G43. I can't blame him - if you have tried to shoot them to any extent you'll find how fragile they really are. You could make a comparison that the G43 was the 'sten gun' of the rifle world with the main difference that the sten gun did work.

I was going to suggest the same book.....Seems to me they interviewed a few German snipers, and they agreed the K98k rifle was far superior in accuracy and reliability.....So the bolt-action was their preference......However they did mention they liked the concept of the semi-automatic sniper rifle due to the automatic reloading capabilities.....Also the possibility of taking out numerous targets without revealing their position....However they agreed accuracy was a major concern with the G/K43 with the Zf4 scope.....Bodes

[reidmuller]

I was going to suggest the same book.....Seems to me they interviewed a few German snipers, and they agreed the K98k rifle was far superior in accuracy and reliability.....So the bolt-action was their preference......However they did mention they liked the concept of the semi-automatic sniper rifle due to the automatic reloading capabilities.....Also the possibility of taking out numerous targets without revealing their position....However they agreed accuracy was a major concern with the G/K43 with the Zf4 scope.....Bodes

Thanks Bodes I know that as a sniper it was rather clumsy and not suited to the job unlike the K98 but i was looking for just the bog standard infantery man with iron sights as so far i have only found accounts from snipers like Sepp Ellenberger

[Matt Weber]

I just finished reading the book on "Sepp" Allerberger, which is titled, "Sniper on the Eastern Front". In the book, Sepp mentions that during sniper school training in 1944 he and his class was alowed to experiment with a variety of sniper rifles and scopes, including the G/K43 with ZF4 optics.

I believe in the book he describes it as, "it's designers must have made it as a practical joke". He also states that the K98 with Hensoldt optics as being "the best and firmest combination."
He also describes the ZF41 sniper rifle as "all trainees and instructors without exception reguarded it as usless for sniper work."

However, later in the book, there was one battle where Sepp went to the armorer, and traded in his K98 sniper, for a G43 sniper. He knew that he lots more firepower, and fast shooting, so he used it. He also carried 4 spare mags with explosive rounds. That was the battle where he shot 18 Russians in a trench, and an untold number of others in open field!

A very good book, and worth reading. Very graphic, and doesn't leave anything left on the table.

Matt

[reidmuller]

heres one quote from the book about shooting his G43 with the explosive rounds i found it very interesting and it shows no sign on being inacurate or misfireing jamming or not working??

"A soldier's chances for survival depend in no small degree on his feeling for what is possible. Here we were being asked to seek out and engage an infantry company that outnumbered us four-to-one and was occupying previously prepared positions, the locations of which we were not sure. I considered this to be a suicide mission and felt very bad about it. I went to the Waffen und Geraet Offizier or WuG (weapons and equipment officer) to exchange my Mauser carbine for a semi-automatic with optic and took another four magazines of explosive rounds with which I filled my tunic and trouser pockets. I then joined the others. That night an Opel Blitz lorry conveyed us to the endangered sector. We sat in the interior of the truck in silence, each man sunk in thought. We knew the dangers of what we faced. When the lorry stopped and the rear flap dropped down to signal the beginning of the mission, we leapt down, got our bearing, the platoon sergeant issued a few brief instructions and then led us off into the darkness.
I took up my position on the flank of the platoon to the rear, weapon at the ready. After an hour dawn began to show through the overcast sky to the each and we found ourselves ascending the gentle slope of a hillside. Suddenly a white star-shell hissed into the night sky and lit the area bright as day. At the same time our ranks received the continuous rattle of murderous MG-fire. The platoon sergeant and six Jager were hit, and fell to the ground groaning and writhing. Some eleven platoon survivors returned fire while five of the seven wounded were dragged out of sight into a shallow depression. The Russians now sprang up from their positions and attacked.
Apparently unnoticed I had thrown myself down some distance from the two wounded Germans remaining in the open, playing dead and hoping to gain for myself the element of surprise. I watched the first two waves of Soviets leave their dugouts, then arose zombie-like from the dead and began firing round after round of accurate fire over open sights at a range of about 80 meters. To be sure of the hit, and for the explosive round to do its work, I aimed for the area just above the hip. With devastating effect each bullet found its mark inside a Russian stomach, destroying a range of inner organs and intestines. The Soviets appeared stunned by having an unexpected apparition firing at them from an oblique angle on the flank, and then became visibly annoyed. Thing were not going to plan for them. In the meantime my ten comrades had gathered their wits and were pouring towards the Russians a blistering fire. The magazine of my semi-automatic held ten rounds. Once the first clip was empty, every shot a hit, I swiftly fitted the second and continued firing. I could see the ground strewn with twenty or more Russian dead or writhing in terrible agony. After reloading with the third clip I became the target of a few desultory replies, but the awful screams of their wounded comrades had unsettled them so much that they aborted the attack and, apart from some withering fire in my direction, retired to their trench. I leapt up again and ran in wild zigzags to the two wounded Jager, throwing myself down beside them in an unevenness in the ground which offered very little cover. So far I had come through the action without a scratch, but the dangerous sprint through the hail of bullets to render first aid to my wounded colleagues was of no avail. One was already dead and the platoon sergeant, whose torso had been raked by a machine gun burst, died a few minutes later.
From their positions the Soviets were sweeping the foreground with small arms and light machine gun fire, pinning me down with no hope of escape. The corpses of my two former colleagues were now useful as a bullet trap. while teh sergeant's thigh made and excellent rest for my rifle barrel. While the remainder of the platoon gave me supporting fire from the background, my hour had now come. The Soviet positions consisted of two light MG nests at either end of a long trench. I had the inestimable advanage of facing an enemy who seemed to have no idea how dangerous a sniper could be even the distance a football field away. Through the rifle scope I concentrated on the nearer nest, which was about 100 meters off. They knew where I was, of course, and while MG-fire spattered into the two cadavers, with my first two carefully aimed rounds I exploded the heads of the MG-gunner and his belt-feeder. There seems to be no activity in the other nest, leaving the field clear for me to finish the rest of them at leisure.
During a table talk at his headquarters on 25 September 1941, Hitler said that whereas he had nothing but admiration for the fighting spirit of the Russians, it was characterized by stupidity. How true that statement was, we were now about to discover. There were eighteen Russians in a long trench, and I could only see individuals within it if they stood up or moved incautiously at the parapet. Every so often a Russian would show his head and I would shoot his brains out. It was just like a shooting gallery at the local amusement park.
.........After a few minutes the German infantry rose from their concealment and advanced with caution towards the enemy positions. Nothing stirred. Before us was a charnel ground upon which an entire Russian company had been wiped out to the last man. Over fifty dead littered the field, plus eighteen in the long trench and three machine gunners. I was a scene reminiscent of medieval impressionistic art depicting hell."

[graf]

Very interesting but "today" you'd get you arse shot off depending on a G43; I have owned (& fired) a dozen G/K43's and all were problematic, some so poor in the reliability dept that it would be my last choice (even lower than a Carcano) for a rifle in battle...

The ones I have owned are prone to misfire, are finicky with the type of ammo you use, they break parts all the time & jam.

I suppose in 1944-45 they may have been better rifles and more dependable, I also agree they are a hoot to shoot if you have a stout wallet as I like the powerful robust performance but they are not shooter rifles or rifles with great reliability- and only a fool would depend on them in a critical situation.

heres one quote from the book about shooting his G43 with the explosive rounds i found it very interesting and it shows no sign on being inacurate or misfireing jamming or not working??

"A soldier's chances for survival depend in no small degree on his feeling for what is possible. Here we were being asked to seek out and engage an infantry company that outnumbered us four-to-one and was occupying previously prepared positions, the locations of which we were not sure. I considered this to be a suicide mission and felt very bad about it. I went to the Waffen und Geraet Offizier or WuG (weapons and equipment officer) to exchange my Mauser carbine for a semi-automatic with optic and took another four magazines of explosive rounds with which I filled my tunic and trouser pockets. I then joined the others. That night an Opel Blitz lorry conveyed us to the endangered sector. We sat in the interior of the truck in silence, each man sunk in thought. We knew the dangers of what we faced. When the lorry stopped and the rear flap dropped down to signal the beginning of the mission, we leapt down, got our bearing, the platoon sergeant issued a few brief instructions and then led us off into the darkness.
I took up my position on the flank of the platoon to the rear, weapon at the ready. After an hour dawn began to show through the overcast sky to the each and we found ourselves ascending the gentle slope of a hillside. Suddenly a white star-shell hissed into the night sky and lit the area bright as day. At the same time our ranks received the continuous rattle of murderous MG-fire. The platoon sergeant and six Jager were hit, and fell to the ground groaning and writhing. Some eleven platoon survivors returned fire while five of the seven wounded were dragged out of sight into a shallow depression. The Russians now sprang up from their positions and attacked.
Apparently unnoticed I had thrown myself down some distance from the two wounded Germans remaining in the open, playing dead and hoping to gain for myself the element of surprise. I watched the first two waves of Soviets leave their dugouts, then arose zombie-like from the dead and began firing round after round of accurate fire over open sights at a range of about 80 meters. To be sure of the hit, and for the explosive round to do its work, I aimed for the area just above the hip. With devastating effect each bullet found its mark inside a Russian stomach, destroying a range of inner organs and intestines. The Soviets appeared stunned by having an unexpected apparition firing at them from an oblique angle on the flank, and then became visibly annoyed. Thing were not going to plan for them. In the meantime my ten comrades had gathered their wits and were pouring towards the Russians a blistering fire. The magazine of my semi-automatic held ten rounds. Once the first clip was empty, every shot a hit, I swiftly fitted the second and continued firing. I could see the ground strewn with twenty or more Russian dead or writhing in terrible agony. After reloading with the third clip I became the target of a few desultory replies, but the awful screams of their wounded comrades had unsettled them so much that they aborted the attack and, apart from some withering fire in my direction, retired to their trench. I leapt up again and ran in wild zigzags to the two wounded Jager, throwing myself down beside them in an unevenness in the ground which offered very little cover. So far I had come through the action without a scratch, but the dangerous sprint through the hail of bullets to render first aid to my wounded colleagues was of no avail. One was already dead and the platoon sergeant, whose torso had been raked by a machine gun burst, died a few minutes later.
From their positions the Soviets were sweeping the foreground with small arms and light machine gun fire, pinning me down with no hope of escape. The corpses of my two former colleagues were now useful as a bullet trap. while teh sergeant's thigh made and excellent rest for my rifle barrel. While the remainder of the platoon gave me supporting fire from the background, my hour had now come. The Soviet positions consisted of two light MG nests at either end of a long trench. I had the inestimable advanage of facing an enemy who seemed to have no idea how dangerous a sniper could be even the distance a football field away. Through the rifle scope I concentrated on the nearer nest, which was about 100 meters off. They knew where I was, of course, and while MG-fire spattered into the two cadavers, with my first two carefully aimed rounds I exploded the heads of the MG-gunner and his belt-feeder. There seems to be no activity in the other nest, leaving the field clear for me to finish the rest of them at leisure.
During a table talk at his headquarters on 25 September 1941, Hitler said that whereas he had nothing but admiration for the fighting spirit of the Russians, it was characterized by stupidity. How true that statement was, we were now about to discover. There were eighteen Russians in a long trench, and I could only see individuals within it if they stood up or moved incautiously at the parapet. Every so often a Russian would show his head and I would shoot his brains out. It was just like a shooting gallery at the local amusement park.
.........After a few minutes the German infantry rose from their concealment and advanced with caution towards the enemy positions. Nothing stirred. Before us was a charnel ground upon which an entire Russian company had been wiped out to the last man. Over fifty dead littered the field, plus eighteen in the long trench and three machine gunners. I was a scene reminiscent of medieval impressionistic art depicting hell."

[bodes]

The ones I have owned are prone to misfire, are finicky with the type of ammo you use, they break parts all the time & jam.

I suppose in 1944-45 they may have been better rifles and more dependable, I also agree they are a hoot to shoot if you have a stout wallet as I like the powerful robust performance but they are not shooter rifles or rifles with great reliability- and only a fool would depend on them in a critical situation.

I highly doubt they were any more reliable in the final years of the war.....I believe the quality of German 7.92 mm ammunition was on a steady decline.....Thus just further added to the German semi-automatics' cycling woes.....Bodes

[P08]

Not entirely on topic but there was a recent test in German Visier Magazine on the K43 & SVT40. The test results showed that the two rifles were quite equal in precision which also means they were lacking behind the Mosin Nagant and K98k that they used for comparison.

The article states that they fired more than a 1000 rounds with the K43 and didnt experience any malfunctions. However that doesnt say anything about longevity expectancy of course.

[Matt Weber]

Yes,
This is the battle that I was talking about from the book. However, if you read it closely, you'll notice that the range he was firing at during this skirmish was only 80 meters, and he was using open sights for more rapid firing. Most of his shots were in the stomach as well. His longest shot that he mentioned during this skirmish was 100 meters. That's not too far for a sniper rifle.
Read the chapter on the sniper school that he went to. In that section he clearly mentions the Walther model 43 semi-automatic rifle, and thier opinions of if.

Matt

heres one quote from the book about shooting his G43 with the explosive rounds i found it very interesting and it shows no sign on being inacurate or misfireing jamming or not working??

"A soldier's chances for survival depend in no small degree on his feeling for what is possible. Here we were being asked to seek out and engage an infantry company that outnumbered us four-to-one and was occupying previously prepared positions, the locations of which we were not sure. I considered this to be a suicide mission and felt very bad about it. I went to the Waffen und Geraet Offizier or WuG (weapons and equipment officer) to exchange my Mauser carbine for a semi-automatic with optic and took another four magazines of explosive rounds with which I filled my tunic and trouser pockets. I then joined the others. That night an Opel Blitz lorry conveyed us to the endangered sector. We sat in the interior of the truck in silence, each man sunk in thought. We knew the dangers of what we faced. When the lorry stopped and the rear flap dropped down to signal the beginning of the mission, we leapt down, got our bearing, the platoon sergeant issued a few brief instructions and then led us off into the darkness.
I took up my position on the flank of the platoon to the rear, weapon at the ready. After an hour dawn began to show through the overcast sky to the each and we found ourselves ascending the gentle slope of a hillside. Suddenly a white star-shell hissed into the night sky and lit the area bright as day. At the same time our ranks received the continuous rattle of murderous MG-fire. The platoon sergeant and six Jager were hit, and fell to the ground groaning and writhing. Some eleven platoon survivors returned fire while five of the seven wounded were dragged out of sight into a shallow depression. The Russians now sprang up from their positions and attacked.
Apparently unnoticed I had thrown myself down some distance from the two wounded Germans remaining in the open, playing dead and hoping to gain for myself the element of surprise. I watched the first two waves of Soviets leave their dugouts, then arose zombie-like from the dead and began firing round after round of accurate fire over open sights at a range of about 80 meters. To be sure of the hit, and for the explosive round to do its work, I aimed for the area just above the hip. With devastating effect each bullet found its mark inside a Russian stomach, destroying a range of inner organs and intestines. The Soviets appeared stunned by having an unexpected apparition firing at them from an oblique angle on the flank, and then became visibly annoyed. Thing were not going to plan for them. In the meantime my ten comrades had gathered their wits and were pouring towards the Russians a blistering fire. The magazine of my semi-automatic held ten rounds. Once the first clip was empty, every shot a hit, I swiftly fitted the second and continued firing. I could see the ground strewn with twenty or more Russian dead or writhing in terrible agony. After reloading with the third clip I became the target of a few desultory replies, but the awful screams of their wounded comrades had unsettled them so much that they aborted the attack and, apart from some withering fire in my direction, retired to their trench. I leapt up again and ran in wild zigzags to the two wounded Jager, throwing myself down beside them in an unevenness in the ground which offered very little cover. So far I had come through the action without a scratch, but the dangerous sprint through the hail of bullets to render first aid to my wounded colleagues was of no avail. One was already dead and the platoon sergeant, whose torso had been raked by a machine gun burst, died a few minutes later.
From their positions the Soviets were sweeping the foreground with small arms and light machine gun fire, pinning me down with no hope of escape. The corpses of my two former colleagues were now useful as a bullet trap. while teh sergeant's thigh made and excellent rest for my rifle barrel. While the remainder of the platoon gave me supporting fire from the background, my hour had now come. The Soviet positions consisted of two light MG nests at either end of a long trench. I had the inestimable advanage of facing an enemy who seemed to have no idea how dangerous a sniper could be even the distance a football field away. Through the rifle scope I concentrated on the nearer nest, which was about 100 meters off. They knew where I was, of course, and while MG-fire spattered into the two cadavers, with my first two carefully aimed rounds I exploded the heads of the MG-gunner and his belt-feeder. There seems to be no activity in the other nest, leaving the field clear for me to finish the rest of them at leisure.
During a table talk at his headquarters on 25 September 1941, Hitler said that whereas he had nothing but admiration for the fighting spirit of the Russians, it was characterized by stupidity. How true that statement was, we were now about to discover. There were eighteen Russians in a long trench, and I could only see individuals within it if they stood up or moved incautiously at the parapet. Every so often a Russian would show his head and I would shoot his brains out. It was just like a shooting gallery at the local amusement park.
.........After a few minutes the German infantry rose from their concealment and advanced with caution towards the enemy positions. Nothing stirred. Before us was a charnel ground upon which an entire Russian company had been wiped out to the last man. Over fifty dead littered the field, plus eighteen in the long trench and three machine gunners. I was a scene reminiscent of medieval impressionistic art depicting hell."