Dream of flying: The dark tower

A century ago, the first tender shoots of enthusiasm for aviation began to sprout in the small German town Köthen. Countless gloomy hangars, buildings, and bunkers still bear witness today to the site's history—ranging from its time as an air signals, training, and testing regiment base to the decades it served as a Russian military airfield.

Walled up, boarded over, and nearly hidden behind the fresh green of young birch trees, the remnants of what was once a cradle of aviation in Central Germany stand on the outskirts of Köthen.

One hundred years ago, the Fluwiac aeronautical research group was founded in this former seat of the Princes of Anhalt; it was an association of daring men flying "flying crates" with names like "Rosemarie" and "Agathe," who successfully competed in flying contests across Germany and even in Italy.

In 1928, the Köthen city council approved their proposal to build an airfield in the southern part of the city.

In 1937, an air signals, training, and testing regiment moved onto the site, and Hitler’s Luftwaffe chief, Hermann Göring, ordered the construction of numerous garrison buildings. Messerschmitt fighters like the Me 109 now landed here instead of "Rosemarie" and "Agathe." For decades, Köthen Airfield was transformed into a restricted military zone.

Access was strictly prohibited—especially after the Soviet Army took over the airfield later in 1945, following its capture that spring by units of the US Army's 3rd Armored Division. The only sights to be seen were the MiG fighter jets and Mi-24 helicopters that would thunder off from the base on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays for patrol flights reaching as far as Hungary.

What went on inside the barracks, massive hangars, and bunkers across the 360-hectare site remained hidden until the troops of the Group of Soviet Forces in Germany (GSSD) withdrew 30 years ago. This secrecy was ensured in no small part by the State Security Service (MfS)—the Stasi—which was responsible for securing the perimeter of all Soviet military installations in the GDR.

In Köthen, the MfS faced particular challenges in this regard. "Due to the military facility's location, the difficulty lies in the fact that a large number of people must pass by the site every day for a variety of reasons," noted a Stasi officer in his 1975 thesis. The Stasi had reason for concern:

As early as 1956, the owner of a nearby garden plot had been caught conducting "visual reconnaissance" with binoculars and a camera. In later years, MfS mail surveillance intercepted six letters containing "detailed information regarding aircraft types, takeoff times, and takeoff sequences."

The State Security Service suspected Western spies were at work but saw little possibility of permanently monitoring "all owners of allotment gardens on the city's outskirts and such hotspots as the taverns located within the garden colonies."

The traces of the last military occupants—visible everywhere back then—have largely vanished today. The larger-than-life mural of Marx, Engels, and Lenin has not survived, not even as a shadow.

The barracks—open magnets for enthusiasts of "lost places" (sites abandoned by humans)—were stripped and gutted as early as the 1990s. All that remains are dark corridors and partially collapsed roofs.

Part of the former airfield has been transformed into a solar park; the district administration has moved into renovated buildings at the front of the site, and the tax office and several companies are also located here on Zeppelinstraße.

Wide, partially overgrown paths run through the area. There are remnants of walls amidst the thickets and signs from the Federal Property Office—hanging by a single remaining nail—warning of "Danger Zones."

There is also graffiti left by young people who scrawled everything imaginable onto these patient walls—from declarations of love accompanied by hearts to warnings of nuclear war—fueled by the imagination drawn from the beer bottles they brought along, the shards of which now lie scattered about.

After 600 meters, Zeppelinstraße makes a sharp right turn and leads back to Köthen. To the left, however, the road turns into a dead end after just one hundred meters. Hidden in the woods beyond a vehicle barrier lies what remains of Köthen’s dream of flight: a stretch of overgrown railway track that once led to the garrison’s freight depot.

A massive U-shaped building with wings one hundred meters long. Behind it, eight former accommodation blocks—seven of them lined up side-by-side like a marching column—and three hangars, each measuring 40 by 100 meters.

The airbase on the outskirts of Köthen covers an area of ​​360 hectares. While part of the site has been remediated and leased out, vast areas lie abandoned in the woods.

The only structure that truly evokes the image of an airport is the still-imposing double tower—an elongated building with two turrets, which lost its roof in a fire seven years ago.

From the former control center—where air traffic controllers from the Russian Armed Forces' 73rd Guards Fighter Aviation Regiment once directed MiG-29 fighters—the view now looks out over a field of solar panels; said to be one of the largest in Germany, it generates enough power to meet the annual needs of 4,000 households.

Only a small section of the former airbase remains in use by the private Fliegerclub Köthen association; however, this ensures it retains official certification as a runway, holding the international code EDCK.