Of the numerous outstanding aircraft conceived during the Second World War, few have been as intriguing as the Horten Ho 229. This jet-flying wing, conceived by the creative Horten brothers in war-torn Germany, was a generation ahead of its time, pairing radical aerodynamics with an early understanding of what we today refer to as stealth technology.
The roots of the Ho 229 lie with Walter and Reimar Horten, who had a mutual love for flying and a talent for disobeying conventional aircraft design rules. Both self-taught and unafraid to take risks in their work, they started designing flying wing gliders in the early 1930s, believing that eliminating the fuselage and tail would reduce drag and increase efficiency.
Their unorthodox suggestions came at a time when the Luftwaffe, in increasing losses following such battles as that for Britain, was more receptive to taking on dangerous and unconventional ideas.
The actual impetus came with Hermann Göring’s “3×1000” challenge: a plane that could deliver a 1,000-kilogram bomb load for 1,000 kilometers at a rate of 1,000 kilometers per hour. Doing that with current designs was all but impossible, particularly considering the massive amounts of fuel consumed by early jet engines. The Horten’s response was bold—a tailless, jet-powered flying wing they designed as the H IX, later referred to as the Ho 229 or Gotha Go 229.
Its design was revolutionary. The wide, delta-shaped wings were constructed of a combination of steel, plywood, and composite materials, including a charcoal-sawdust mixture designed to absorb radar waves. This did not render the aircraft invisible, but it did reduce its radar profile—something validated decades later when aerospace engineers re-created the design for testing purposes. The Ho 229 also boasted features that heralded a jump forward: twin Junkers Jumo 004B turbojet engines, retractable tricycle landing gear, and even an ejection seat.
Development went rapidly enough, but not without hitches. The prototype, an unmanned glider, took to the air in March 1944 and performed nicely. The second, equipped with jet engines, made its maiden flight in December the same year and achieved reported speeds of up to 800 km/h.
But the extreme absence of a stabilizing tail made it difficult to maneuver, and one of its test pilots was killed in a crash after only a few flights. Nevertheless, Göring was persistent, insisting on mass production and envisaging the Ho 229 as both a bomber and a high-speed interceptor with 30mm cannons.
By the time the end of the war came, the Ho 229 project was only just getting underway. In April 1945, Allied forces took possession of the nearly finished V3 prototype and sent it back to be investigated. Today, that one surviving airframe lies in the Smithsonian’s collection—a scarce and tangible connection to one of aviation’s most grandiose endeavors.
Its claim to be the “first stealth aircraft” is partially true. Though its wooden structure and flying wing design did reduce its radar cross-section, it was not undetectable. Subsequent analysis discovered that it would have been detectable at around 80 percent of the range for a conventional fighter of the period. In combat, that reduced radar footprint, combined with high speed, could have given it the decisive advantage.
Although it did not see service, the Ho 229 made a profound mark on aviation. Its flying wing concepts reappeared in subsequent designs such as Northrop’s YB-35 and YB-49, and much later in the B-2 Spirit stealth bomber.
The similarity between the Ho 229 and the B-2 is no coincidence—both are outgrowths of the same aerodynamic principle, although the B-2 enjoys the services of cutting-edge materials, computer-aided guidance, and fly-by-wire systems that eliminated the stability issues that afflicted the Horten’s design.
After the war, Reimar Horten emigrated to Argentina to carry on producing experimental planes, while Walter remained in Germany and went on to serve in its post-war air force. The Ho 229 they produced together stands as an icon, a statement of how much visionary engineering can achieve under high pressure, and a reminder that wartime innovation can yield ideas whose impact resonates long after hostilities cease.