Interflug Ilyushin Il-62 in Stölln

When exploring the tranquil country around Berlin, it is not unusual to find some relics from WWII and the Cold War era, like the Soviet war monuments, memorials (see for example here), and even former Soviet airbases and bunkers (see for example here). These sites are often not much publicized though, nor that much visible to a little-attentive eye of a modern tourist. Some exceptions exist however, like the case of the massive Ilyushin Il-62, a quintessential Cold War liner designed in the Soviet Union, that you can find by the foot of a low-rising hill, in the super-small town of Stölln, itself part of the small town of Göllenberg, about 50 miles northwest of Berlin.

The reason for having this very aircraft in this exact position is definitely not mere chance. The history of Gollenberg and of its small hillis inextricably bound to the name of one of the most influential pioneers of human flight, Otto Lilienthal. Well before the flight of the Wright brothers’ self-propelled Flyer, which took place in Kitty Hawk, NC, in 1903, this German gentleman experimented with single-seat gliders, understanding the basics of aerodynamic properties and construction of fixed-wings, as well as the stabilizing effect of tail empennages placed to the back of the aircraft. Actually, compared to the forward-placed horizontal control surfaces proposed by the Wright brothers, Lilienthal’s concept turned out better performing, and soon became the standard of aircraft design to these days.

Lilienthal’s experimental flights took place mostly in the 1890s, employing the small hill as a launch point for his own un-propelled machines. Actually, it was in Stölln that he flew for the last time, when he fatally crashed in 1896.

About 90 years later, in Spring 1988, the national carrier of the German Democratic Republic (GDR, or DDR), Interflug, was entering a new phase in its life cycle – eventually, this would turn to be the last phase. A transition to the the Airbus A310, from a fleet historically dominated by Soviet designs, meant that in particular the Ilyushin Il-18 and Il-62, the mainstay of the company’s long-range segment, was scheduled for withdrawal.

It was by the action of the then-mayor of the small town of Stölln, Mrs. Sybille Heling, that the idea first surfaced of celebrating Lilienthal’s legacy with a monument, in the form of a big aircraft put on display. Contacts with the management of Interflug turned out very productive, and a deal was reached where an Il-62 would be donated by the state-owned Interflug to the local municipality, provided the latter could prepare a location for its landing! An embryonic location existed, in the form of a local grassy airfield – nothing to do with a 100+ tonnes, four-jet liner. However, the chief Il-62 pilot of Interflug, Heinz-Dieter Kallbach, professionally started to draft a mission plan. The Il-62, marked DDR-SEG, was stripped of the interior, the APU, the tail-cone safety wheel, and the water ballast it usually flew with in the front belly. This reduced the minimum weight by a few tonnes, down to about 75 tons. The aircraft would take-off for one last time from Berlin Schönefeld (then the commercial airport of the eastern sector of Berlin, now the only airport of Berlin, titled to former chancellor Willy Brandt). A very short hop to its final resting place, the flight required minimum fuel weight. Even so, the 900 m long runway remained quite a challenge.

On October 23rd, 1989, coincidentally just days prior to the collapse of the Wall in Berlin, the aircraft embarked on this one-of-a-kind mission. After two low-level passes, the machine finally approached the runway, reportedly engaging thrust-reverser on two of the four engines seconds before actual touch-down, so as to have inverted thrust available immediately after landing. The aircraft approached the threshold almost at stall speed, to reduce the ground run, which turned out to be 800 m, just short of the declared runway length. Despite the thick cloud of dust engulfing it, the aircraft had landed safely, and even managed to reach its final parking spot by taxing on its own engines!

Christened Lady Agnes in honor of Lilienthal’s wife, the Il-62 makes for an easy to spot, hard to forget icon in the middle of Brandenburg’s countryside. It is the centerpiece of a museum dedicated to Interflug, managed by a local society also preserving the legacy of Otto Lilienthal’s experiments in the area. Actually, the museum is also a trailhead for a nice walk to the top of the hill where Lilienthal used to start on his own flights.

The photographs in this post are from a visit to the site in the Summer of 2024.

Sights

Heading to Berlin or the former GDR? Looking for traces of the Cold War open for a visit?

A Travel Guide to COLD WAR SITES in EAST GERMANY

Third Edition - 2026 - Thoroughly Reviewed and Expanded

DON'T LEAVE IT AT HOME! AVAILABLE in PAPERBACK or KINDLE from your national Amazon store!
amazon.com | amazon.de | amazon.co.uk
amazon.it | amazon.fr | amazon.co.jp

The aircraft and Interflug museum can be approached from a parking nearby, along a grassy path. The site is visibly cared for with a good deal of effort, and the aircraft is now surrounded by a nice garden. Actually, the small airfield which allowed the historical flight of DDR-SEG to take place is still there – a local touristic airfield with very little traffic – and the location makes for a gathering place for those flying in.

The design of the Il-62, with a seldom-seen all-back four jet configuration (notable similar designs are the Vickers VC-10, which shared a similar long-range mission with the Il-62, and the much smaller Lockheed JetStar early executive jet), is pure 1960 vintage. The engines are four Soviet-designed Soloviev D30 low-bypass turbofans, more efficient than other pure turbojet options, yet dramatically fuel-thirsty for the oil price of the 1980s – this was a major contribution to the demise of this configuration, where more efficient but much larger high-bypass turbofan engines could not be fitted in the rear-mounted nacelles.

The emblems of Interflug and of the GDR are still proudly in place, similar to the original marks. The writing ‘Lady Agnes’ is apocryphal, yet surely justified by the devotion the adoptive family of this very aircraft is pouring in its maintenance.

The inside has been partly preserved. In particular, the galleys, the cockpit and a section of the passenger’s cabin are preserved in their original appearance.

Ilyushin aircraft were made in Kazan, today’s Russia, and all labels are basically only in Russian language.

A section of the passenger’s cabin has been converted into a very interesting exhibition, a real mecca for hunters of airline memorabilia. Among the items on display are original branded convenience kits and trays and dishes for onboard meal service.

Advertisement from the days of operations is also on display. Traveling within the USSR-led communist bloc by air was an affordable experience for middle-level workers, especially towards highly touristic locations like Slovakia in the winter and Bulgaria or Hungary in the summer.

However, even farther communist destinations like Cuba, Vietnam, China and Congo were part of the network of Interflug. Additional memorabilia items include ornamental vases, on-board safety instructions, photographs from the days of operation, and a very nice technical drawing of the aircraft.

Upon leaving the cabin, you are offered a convenient view of the cockpit, with a dashboard in the typical lurid Soviet green. A completely analog panel imposed a significant work-load to the pilot. This aircraft type was originally piloted by nothing less than five crew. By reviewing the operational procedures, this was later reduced to four.

Back on the ground, it is possible to spot a specially-painted original Trabant. A walk-around the aircraft reveals several labels in Russian, and generally a very good state of preservation, considering the aircraft is parked outside.

The museum of Interflug is dominated on one side by the uniforms of pilots, onboard crew and technicians of this airline.

Then a display of artifacts and memorabilia retraces the history of this airline. Interestingly, some Deutsche Lufthansa tickets and old-fashioned likewise branded ads can be spotted. To a careful eye, these reveal an apparently incoherent belonging of Deutsche Lufthansa – with the same symbol of today’s major German carrier, a heron – to the German Democratic Republic. Actually, soon after the post-war liquidation of the original pre-WWII Deutsche Lufthansa in 1951, the name and trademark were registered again by the then-established Federal Republic of Germany, just prior to the company’s resumed flight operations in the 1950s. At the same time, on the communist side of the Iron Curtain, the newly-founded national carrier of the German Democratic Republic also started operations, with exactly the same name as its West-German counterpart. This explains the apparent mismatch of the name Deutsche Lufthansa on GDR tickets and flight networks.

Clearly, a legal claim was started over this point by the West-German Lufthansa, which had registered the brand and trademark at a fee. Interflug was the result of the fight. Founded as a ghost company by the GDR government, just in case they lost the right to fly under the name ‘Deutsche Lufthansa’, when this actually happened, Interflug immediately absorbed the assets of the East-German Deutsche Lufthansa, and flight operations became now entitled to Interflug. By the early 1960s, Interflug and Lufthansa were the national carriers of the GDR and FRG respectively, and this was to be until the demise of the GDR, when German reunification played havoc within the Interflug management. State-owned Interflug ceased operations and was liquidated in 1991, the three A310 it owned at that time going to the German government as state aircraft.

The maps of international destinations reached by Interflug is clearly polarized towards friend locations within Soviet influence.

The historical photographs witness the various types of aircraft employed by Interflug, which included agricultural aircraft and small models for air surveillance and photographing operations, or even some helicopters.

The portraits of aircraft and airports from the Cold War years will appeal to everybody with an interest or fascination for that age.

Upon leaving the museum, you may take a trail to the top of the hill where Otto Lilienthal experimented with his own gliders. The trail is scattered with memorials and tables retracing the history of the pioneer.

The point of his fatal crash in 1896 is marked with a commemorative stone.

By the opposite head of the trail, on the other side of the low-rising hill (10 minutes by walk from the main parking and Interflug museum, if not climbing uphill) you can find an interesting work of art from the GDR era (1986). This is called Ikarus, and was crafted by the artist Erhard Grüttner.

Getting there and visiting

The location is not much advertised, yet it is very convenient to reach by car. The exact address is Am Gollenberg 10, 14728 Gollenberg. It is located 50 miles northwest of Berlin, and can be neared from Friesack, on the route B5 from the capital. A large parking can be found on site, as well as a children’s playground. The location is managed by the Otto-Lilienthal-Verein (which translates into ‘Otto Lilienthal Society’). Their professional website (in German only) can be found here. It provides full information on the opening times. Notably, an indoor exhibition dedicated to Lilienthal is managed by the same society, and is located in the nearby village of Gollenberg.

A visit to the aircraft and museum, where all descriptions are in German only, yet rather self-explaining, may take 45 minutes to 1 hour. An additional round tour along the trail to the top of the hill, and back at base level, may take 45 minutes more.

Access to the aircraft and exhibition is at a fee (cash only, as typical to many locations in Germany), whereas walking the trail is free of charge.

Inside the World’s Largest Aircraft – Antonov 225 Mriya

I am not sure this post does fit in the ‘sightseeing’ category. If you go to Malpensa – the largest airport of Milan – on a regular day, it’s unlikely you will spot the distinctive shape of the unique six-engined Antonov An-225. Yet in this post I will give a pictorial description of this crazy flying machine, so that wherever and when you should see the Mriya, here is what you might expect. This aircraft is a moving attraction, so exceptional that I feel going out to photograph it is still ‘sightseeing’ in some sense…

I had the chance to climb on it one night in early 2015, thanks to Paolo, a friend of mine from Italy, who is working in the company operating the airport system of Milan. The huge aircraft had been going in and out of Italy on an almost regular basis for some weeks, tasked with moving military equipment from central Africa back to the Italian soil.

It was a matter of coordination between me and Paolo, and of course some luck was involved, for the landing and take-off times of the Mriya are usually in the middle of the night and not perfectly predictable, plus good weather is never assured especially in winter. Anyway, in the end I succeeded in arranging a private visit to the Mriya with Paolo and another friend of mine. Paolo registered us as official visitors, so being there and allowed to walk on the apron of the largest airport in Northern Italy, we could come close also to some other interesting items.

The following photos are about that incredible night.

Sights

Mriya Parked

When we went on the apron the plane was still resting on its many (32) wheels, with doors closed and nobody around. The flight scheduled for that evening was basically a ferry flight to Africa, so no loading operations were expected. We were free to walk around taking pictures.

You may see how big this aircraft is by comparing its size to that of the guys walking under it. You will feel like walking close to a moored cruising ship more than an aircraft…

Air India Boeing 787 Dreamliner

While waiting for the crew to come to the aircraft for departure, we came close to a Dreamliner preparing for a flight to India. It still retained its ‘new plastic’ smell. Among the most distinctive features of this model are the beautiful engine nozzles, with a toothed profile for noise suppression.

Emirates Airbus A380

We had the chance to see an A380 taxiing to the gate after arriving from Dubai. This double-decker is really impressive, as you can see again looking at the size of the people walking under its wings. Yet this time this was not the star of the show…

We walked up to the cabin, but were not allowed to take pictures. As it is the case for most modern aircraft, the cockpit is not so fascinating especially when the electronics are switched off – you just have an array of TV scopes…

Inside the Mriya

We then went back to the Mriya to meet the crew and walk in. The crew is composed by about ten people, including those connected with flight operations and those responsible for payload.

You get access to the aircraft through a hatch with an attached ladder. Otherwise, when the cargo door to the front is open, you may access the aircraft from there. There is no cargo door to the back.

The inside is structured with a main cargo deck in the central section of the aircraft, with a built-in crane capable of moving a 5 ton load. There are apparently no hooks on the ground, they possibly fasten the payload to the sides, but I’m not sure. The tail cone section can be accessed through an internal hatch for inspection, and cannot host any payload.

Along the sides of the cargo bay there are tons of bulky items and tools for servicing, spare parts including wheels, gauges connected with the landing gear operation, and small round windows to allow visually checking the wings and the engines underneath. The main cargo section is closed to the front by the folding platform for cargo loading, resting in a vertical position in flight, when the nose cargo door is closed and the nose cone lowered.

A retractable ladder gives access to the cockpit and crew resting area, which is configured in a similar fashion to the upper deck of the Boeing 747. To the front from the hatch on top of the ladder you get access to the seats of the flight engineers and to the cockpit. Seating in the engineering compartment is for four people, but I guess this was necessary for operating the Buran or for more complicate missions. Anyway, I would say at least a crewman for each side would be needed for normal flight operations. Seating in the cockpit is for two, and the arrangement of controls and gauges is neat and linear.

I would have spent one month in the engineering compartment to check every item in detail – tons of late Cold War items, and everything so Soviet-looking! – but this was not a day-off visit for the crewmen, who were busy with preparing the aircraft for the flight. To the back of the access hatch the quarters for the crew include two side compartments for living and sleeping, a small galley and a large storage room. From there it is possible to look through a window to another compartment to the back, with clusters of electronic material and other stuff, close to the wing section.

I noticed the usual placard with evacuation routes, and other strange knobs close to the upper-deck access ladder. Close to the side door of the aircraft the crew has many stickers from various places visited with this wonderful aircraft, and a bell like that of a 19th century ship!

Boeing 747 Cargo

Waiting for the Mriya to depart, we boarded a brand new Boeing 747 cargo of the Russian company ABC cargo. The contrast between this and the Antonov couldn’t be more striking. This new 747 has a fully automatic cargo deck, with a really impressive plethora of sensors and a system of rails to safely fasten cargo pallets. The flying deck is very comfortable and modern, with the typical brownish Boeing plastic, clearly reminding you this aircraft was ‘proudly manufactured in the USA’!

Mriya Leaving

We finally went back to the Mriya to follow the departure sequence. The aircraft was pushed back with a dedicated towing strut, coping with the twin-mast front undercarriage. This item travels with the aircraft, so before engine startup it is necessary to open the front cargo door and load this gear, pushing it inside by pure handwork. The front undercarriage is tilted, lowering the front of the plane and making loading operations possible. After that, a crewman closes the side access door and startup of the six engines is initiated.

I shot a video during engine spool up, posted on my YouTube channel broadbandeagle.

Note

As I wrote at the beginning, this is a ‘special report’ and not a post with many how-to notes. I hope you got an idea of how the An-225 looks inside, but I was clearly lucky to be allowed on this special tour. All thanks go to Paolo, who invited me to join in, registering me as an official visitor. I dare to say that if you don’t know somebody doing his job and with his passion for aeronautics, then unfortunately you’ll hardly have a chance to board this aircraft and see the inside… unless you do his job yourself, or they retire the aircraft and put it in a museum!