a moment had got above his enemy. The hostile aeroplane could not
equally quickly get ready for what was to come. My brother caught it at
a favorable angle and a few seconds after it went down in flames. When a
machine is burning all is lost for it falls to the ground burning.
Once I was on the ground next to a benzine tank. It contained one
hundred litres of benzine which exploded and burnt. The heat was so
great that I could not bear to be within ten yards of it. One can
therefore imagine what it means if a tank containing a large quantity of
this devilish liquid explodes a few inches in front of one while the
blast from the propeller blows the flame into one's face. I believe a
man must lose consciousness at the very first moment.
Sometimes miracles do happen. For instance, I once saw an English
aeroplane falling down in flames. The flames burst out only at an
altitude of fifteen hundred feet. The whole machine was burning. When we
had flown home we were told that one of the occupants of the machine had
jumped from an altitude of one hundred and fifty feet. It was the
observer. One hundred and fifty feet is the height of a good sized
steeple. Supposing somebody should jump from its top to the ground, what
would be his condition? Most men would break their bones in jumping from
a first floor window. At any rate, this good fellow jumped from a
burning machine at an altitude of one hundred and fifty feet, from a
machine which had been burning for over a minute, and nothing happened
to him except a simple fracture of the leg. Soon after his adventure he
made a statement from which it appears that his nerve had not
suffered.[42]
Another time, I shot down an Englishman. The pilot had been fatally
wounded in the head. The machine fell perpendicularly to earth from an
altitude of nine thousand feet. Some time later I came gliding down and
saw on the ground nothing but a heap of twisted debris. To my surprise I
was told that the observer had only damaged his skull and that his
condition was not dangerous. Some people have luck indeed.
Once upon a time, Boelcke shot down a Nieuport machine. I was present.
The aeroplane fell like a stone. When we inspected it we found that it
had been driven up to the middle into the loamy soil. The occupant had
been shot in the abdomen and had lost consciousness and had wrenched his
arm out of its socket on striking the ground. He did not die of his
fall.
On the other hand, it has happened that a good friend of mine in landing
had a slight accident. One of the wheels of his machine got into a
rabbit hole. The aeroplane was traveling at no speed and quite slowly
went on its head. It seemed to reflect whether it should fall to the one
side or to the other, turned over and the poor fellow's back was
broken.
My brother Lothar is Lieutenant in the 4th Dragoons. Before the war he
was at the War Academy. He was made an officer at the outbreak and began
the war as a cavalry man exactly as I did. I know nothing about his
actions for he never speaks of himself. However, I have been told the
following story:
In the winter of 1914 Lothar's regiment was on the Warthe. The Russians
were on the other side of the river. Nobody knew whether they intended
to stay there or to go back. The water was frozen partly along the
shore. So it was difficult to ride through the river. There were, of
course, no bridges, for the Russians had destroyed them. So my brother
swam across, ascertained the position of the Russians and swam back
again. He did that during a severe Russian winter when the thermometer
was very low. After a few minutes his clothes were frozen solid. Yet he
asserted that he had felt quite warm notwithstanding. He kept on his
horse all day long until he got to his quarters in the evening, yet he
did not catch a chill.
In winter, 1915, he followed my urgent advice and went into the flying
service. He also became an observer and became a pilot only a year
later. Acting as an observer is certainly not a bad training,
particularly for a chasing airman. In March, 1917, he passed his third
examination and came at once to my squadron.
When he arrived he was a very young and innocent pilot who never thought
of looping and such like tricks. He was quite satisfied if he succeeded
in starting his machine and in landing successfully. A fortnight later I
took him with me against the enemy for the first time. I asked him to
fly close behind me in order that he might see exactly how the fighting
was done.
After the third flight with him I suddenly noticed he parted company
with me. He rushed at an Englishman and killed him. My heart leapt with
joy when I saw it. The event proved once more that there is no art in
shooting down an aeroplane. The thing is done by the personality or by
the fighting determination of the airman.[43] I am not a Pegoud and I do
not wish to be a Pegoud. I am only a soldier who does his duty.
Four weeks later my brother had shot down a total of twenty Englishmen.
His record as a flier is probably unique. It has probably not happened
in any other case that a pilot, a fortnight after his third examination,
has shot down his first enemy and that he has shot down twenty during
the first four weeks of his fighting life.
My brother's twenty-second opponent was the celebrated Captain Ball. He
was by far the best English flier. Major Hawker, who in his time was as
renowned as Captain Ball, I had pressed to my bosom some months
previously. It was a particular pleasure to me that it fell to my
brother to settle England's second flying champion.
Captain Ball flew a triplane and encountered my brother flying by
himself at the Front. Each tried to catch the other. Neither gave his
opponent a chance. Every encounter was a short one. They were constantly
dashing at one another. Neither succeeded in getting behind the other.
Suddenly both resolved to fire a few well aimed shots during the few
moments of the encounter. Both rushed at one another, and fired. Both
had before them their engine. The probability of a hit was very small
for their speed was twice as great as normally. It was improbable that
either should succeed. My brother, who was a little lower, had pulled
his machine around too hard and the result was that it overturned. For a
moment his aeroplane became unsteerable. But presently he recovered
control and found out that his opponent had smashed both his benzine
tanks. Therefore, he had to stop the engine and land quickly. Otherwise,
his machine might burst into flames.
His next idea was: What has become of my opponent? At the moment when
his machine turned its somersault he had seen that the enemy's machine
was rearing up in the air and had also turned a somersault. He therefore
could not be very far. His whole thought was: Is he above me or beneath
me? He was not above but he saw the triplane falling down in a series of
somersaults. It fell, fell, fell until it came to the ground where it
was smashed to pieces. This happened on German territory. Both opponents
had hit one another with their machine guns. My brother's machine had
had both benzine tanks smashed and at the same moment Captain Ball had
been shot through the head. He carried with him some photographs and
cuttings from the newspapers of his town where he had been greatly
feted. In Boelcke's time Captain Ball destroyed thirty-six German
machines. He, too, had found his master. Was it by chance that a
prominent man such as he also should die an ordinary soldier's
death?[44]
Captain Ball was certainly the commander of the Anti-Richthofen
Squadron. I believe that the Englishmen will now give up their attempt
to catch me. I should regret it, for in that case, I should miss many
opportunities to make myself beloved by them.
Had my brother not been wounded on the fifth of May he would probably on
my return from furlough, also have been given a leave of absence with
fifty-two hostile machines to his credit.
My father discriminates between a sportsman and a butcher. The former
shoots for fun. When I have shot down an Englishman my hunting passion
is satisfied for a quarter of an hour. Therefore I do not succeed in
shooting two Englishmen in succession. If one of them comes down I have
the feeling of complete satisfaction. Only much, much later I have
overcome my instinct and have become a butcher.
My brother is differently constituted. I had an opportunity of observing
him when he was shooting down his fourth and fifth opponents. We were
attacking in a squadron. I started the dance. I had settled my opponent
very quickly. When I looked around I noticed my brother rushing after an
English machine which was bursting into flames, and exploded. Next to it
was another Englishman. My brother, though following number one,
immediately directed his machine gun against number two, although his
first opponent was still in the air and had not yet fallen. His second
victim also fell after a short struggle.
When we met at home he asked me proudly, "How many have you shot down?"
I said quite modestly, "One." He turned his back upon me and said, "I
did two." Thereupon I sent him forward to make inquiries. He was to find
out the names of his victims, etc. He returned late in the afternoon
having been able to find only a single Englishman.
He had looked carelessly, as is usual amongst such butchers. Only on the
following day I received a report as to the place where the second had
come down.
We all had seen his fall.
_I Shoot a Bison_
WHEN visiting Headquarters I met the Prince von Pless. He permitted me
to shoot a bison on his estate. The bison has died out. On the whole
earth there are only two spots where bisons may be found. These are the
Pless Estate and in the Bialowicz estate of the ex-Czar. The Bialowicz
forest has, of course, suffered terribly through the war. Many a
magnificent bison which ought to have been shot either by the Czar or by
some other monarch has been eaten by German musketeers.
Through the kindness of the Prince I was permitted to shoot so rare an
animal. In a few decades none will be left.
I arrived at Pless on the afternoon of the twenty-sixth of May and had
to start immediately from the station if I wished to kill a bull the
same evening. We drove along the celebrated road, through the giant
preserves of the Prince, which has been frequented by many crowned
heads. After about an hour, we got out and had to walk half an hour to
come to the shooting place. The drivers had already been placed in
position. The signal was given to them and they began the drive.
I stood at an elevated spot which had been occupied, according to the
head forester, by His Majesty, who from thence had shot many a bison. We
waited some considerable time. Suddenly I saw among the timber a
gigantic black monster, rolling along. It came straight in my direction.
I noticed it before the head forester had. I got ready for firing and
must say that I felt somewhat feverish.
It was a mighty bull. When he was at a distance of two hundred yards
there was still some hope for him. I thought it was too far for a shot.
Of course I could have hit the monster because it was impossible to miss
such a huge beast. However, it would have been unpleasant to search for
him. Besides it would have been ridiculous had I missed him, so I
thought I would wait until he came nearer.
Probably he noticed the drivers for he suddenly turned and came rushing
towards me at a sharp angle and at a speed which seemed to me
incredible. It was a bad position for a shot, and in a moment he
disappeared behind a group of stout trees.
I heard him snorting and stamping. I lost sight of him. I have no idea
whether he smelt me or not. At any rate, he had disappeared. I caught
another glimpse of him at a long distance and he was gone.
I do not know whether it was the unaccustomed aspect of the animal or
whether something else affected me. At any rate, at the moment when the
bull came near I had the same feeling, the same feverishness which
seizes me when I am sitting in my aeroplane and notice an Englishman at
so great a distance that I have to fly perhaps five minutes in order to
get near him. The only difference is that the Englishman defends
himself. Possibly, different feelings would have moved me had I been
standing on level ground and not on an elevated position.
Before long, a second bison came near. He was also a huge fellow. He
made it easier for me to fire my shot. At a distance of eighty yards I
fired at him but I had missed my opportunity to shoot him in the
shoulder. A month before, Hindenburg had told me when talking of bison:
"You must take a lot of cartridges with you. I have spent on such a
fellow half a dozen for he does not die easily. His heart lies so deep
that one misses it as a rule." That was really so. Although I knew
exactly where the bison's heart was I had missed it. I fired a second
shot and a third. Hit for the third time the bull stopped perhaps fifty
yards from me.
Five minutes later the beast was dead. The shooting was finished. All
three bullets had hit him close above the heart.
We drove now, past the beautiful hunting box of the Prince through the
forest, in which the guests of Prince Pless shoot every year, deer, and
other animals. Then we looked at the interior of the house in Promnitz.
It is situated on a peninsula. It commands beautiful views and for
three miles around there is no human being. One has no longer the
feeling that one is in a preserve of the ordinary kind when one visits
the estate of Prince Pless, for the preserve extends to a million acres.
It contains glorious stags which have never been seen by man. No
forester knows them. Occasionally they are shot. One can tramp about for
weeks without seeing a bison. During certain times of the year it is
impossible to find one. They like quietude and they can hide themselves
in the gigantic forests and tangled woods. We saw many beautiful deer.
After about two hours we arrived at Pless, just before it became dark.
_Infantry Fliers, Artillery Fliers
and Reconnoitering Machines_
HAD I not become a professional chaser I should have turned an infantry
flier. After all, it must be a very satisfactory feeling to be able to
aid those troops whose work is hardest. The infantry flier can do a
great deal to assist the man on foot. For that reason his is a very
grateful task.[45]
In the course of the Battle of Arras I observed many of these splendid
fellows. They flew in any weather and at any time at a low altitude over
the enemy and tried to act as connecting links with our hard-pressed
troops. I can understand that one can fight with enthusiasm when one is
given such a task. I dare say many an airman has shouted Hurrah! when,
after an assault he saw the hostile masses stream back or when our smart
infantry leaped from the trenches and fought the aggressors eye to eye.
Many a time, after a chasing expedition, I have fired my remaining
cartridges into the enemy trenches. Although I may have done little
practical good, such firing affects the enemy's morale.
I have also been an artillery flier. In my time it was a novelty to
regulate the firing of one's own artillery by wireless telegraphy. To do
this well an airman requires special talent. I could not do the work for
long. I prefer fighting. Very likely, artillery officers make the best
artillery fliers. At least, they have the necessary knowledge of the arm
which they serve.
I have done a lot of reconnoitering by aeroplane, particularly in Russia
during the war of movement. Then I acted once more as a cavalryman. The
only difference was that I rode a Pegasus made of steel. My days spent
with friend Holck among the Russians were among the finest in my life.
In the Western theater the eye of the reconnaissance flier sees things
which are very different from those to which the cavalrymen get
accustomed. Villages and towns, railways and roads seem lifeless and
dead. Yet there is a colossal traffic going on all the time, but it is
hidden from the flying men with great skill. Only a wonderfully trained
practised and observant eye can see anything definite when one is
traveling at a great height and at a terrific speed. I have excellent
eyes but it seems doubtful to me whether there is anyone who can see
anything definite when he looks down upon a road from an altitude of
fifteen thousand feet. As the eye is an imperfect object for observation
one replaces it by the photographic apparatus. Everything that seems
important to one must be photographed. Besides, one must photograph
those things which one is told to photograph. If one comes home and if
the plates have gone wrong, the whole flight has been for nothing.
It often happens to flying men who do reconnoitering that they get
involved in a fight. However, their task is more important than
fighting. Frequently a photographic plate is more valuable than the
shooting down of a squadron. Hence the flying photographer should, as a
rule, not take a hand in fighting.
Nowadays it is a difficult task to reconnoiter efficiently in the
West.[46]
_The German Flying Machines_
IN the course of the War the German flying machines have experienced
great changes. That is probably generally known. There is a colossal
difference between a giant plane and a chaser plane.
The chaser plane is small, fast, quick at turning. It carries nothing
apart from the pilot except machine guns and cartridges.
The giant plane is a colossus. Its only duty is to carry as much weight
as possible and it is able to do this owing to the huge surface of its
planes. It is worth while to look at the gigantic English plane which
landed smoothly on the German side of the front.[47] The giant plane can
carry an unbelievable weight. It will easily fly away dragging from
three to five tons. Its benzine tanks look as large as railroad cars. In
going about in such a colossus one has no longer the sensation that one
is flying. One is driving. In going about in a giant plane the direction
depends no longer on one's instinct but on the technical instruments
which one carries.
A giant plane has a huge number of horse powers. I do not know exactly
how many, but they are many thousand. The greater the horse power is,
the better. It seems not impossible that the day may come when a whole
division will be transported in such a thing. In its body one can go for
a walk. In one of its corners there is an indescribable something. It
contains an apparatus for wireless telephony by means of which one can
converse with the people down below. In another corner are hanging the
most attractive liver sausages which one can imagine. They are the
famous bombs which cause such a fright to the good people down below. At
every corner is a gun. The whole thing is a flying fortress, and the
planes with their stays and supports look like arcades. I have never
been able to feel enthusiasm for these giant barges. I find them
horrible, unsportsmanlike, boring and clumsy. I rather like a machine of
the type of "le petit rouge."
If one is in a small chaser-plane it is quite immaterial whether one
flies on one's back, whether one flies up or down, stands on one's head,
etc. One can play any tricks one likes, for in such a machine one can
fly like a bird. The only difference is that one does not fly with
wings, as does the bird albatros. The thing is, after all, merely a
flying engine. I think things will come to this, that we shall be able
to buy a flying suit for half-a-crown. One gets into it. On the one end
there is a little engine, and a little propeller. You stick your arms
into planes and your legs into the tail. Then you will do a few leaps in
order to start and away you will go up into the air like a bird.
My dear reader, I hear you laughing at my story. But we do not know yet
whether our children will laugh at it. Everyone would have laughed fifty
years ago if somebody had spoken about flying above Berlin. I remember
the sensation which was caused, when, in 1910, Zeppelin came for the
first time to Berlin. Now no Berlin street man looks up into the air
when an airship is coming along.
Besides giant planes and little chaser-planes, there are innumerable
other types of flying machines and they are of all sizes. Inventiveness
has not yet come to an end. Who can tell what machine we shall employ a
year hence in order to perforate the atmosphere?
THE END
FOOTNOTES:
[40] Probably the fighting to the east of Amiens in March and April,
1918, has demonstrated to the German Army at large that quite a great
deal is achieved by this "crawling along the ground." The use of
aeroplanes against infantry and cavalry has been developed very greatly
since von Richthofen wrote his notes in 1917.
[41] Curiously enough there is a very similar legend concerning an aged
school machine at one of the British flying schools.
[42] On two or three occasions pilots have gallantly stuck to their
controls and have managed to land safely in blazing machines from fully
1,000 feet. There is a general opinion that it is possible to fit a
parachute so that in the event of an aeroplane catching fire the pilot
and passenger can quit it at once and descend safely.
[43] This may be the propagandist editor at work, or it may be a
deliberate attempt to mislead, because, as a matter of fact, a man
cannot survive long as a fighting pilot unless he is a perfect master of
his machine.
[44] There is some curious error here, for Captain Ball was not flying a
triplane at the time of his death. It seems probable that someone else
shot Captain Ball on the same day, and that, as the younger von
Richthofen was disabled, and so could not go and identify the wreckage
of Captain Ball's machine, the credit was given to von Richthofen in
default of anyone else making a claim.
[45] This was evidently written some time after von Richthofen's
previous disparaging note on Infantry Contact fliers.
[46] This is really a high testimony to the effective work of the R. F.
C.
[47] A Handley Page which landed near Laon early in 1917.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
Text uses both giant plane and giant-plane. This was retained.
Frequently, the commas in the original text were moved up half-way to
land at the middle of the line instead of the bottom of the line. These
were all moved down.
Page v, "SHAFER" changed to "SCHÄFER". Word "the" also added to match
actual title of chapter. (SCHÄFER LANDS BETWEEN THE LINES)
Page vii, "SHAFER" changed to "SCHÄFER" (LIEUT. SCHÄFER SPEAKING WITH)
Page 5, "Feldfliegartruppen" changed to "Feldfliegertruppen" (the German
Feldfliegertruppen)
Page 8, extra single quotation mark removed from the front of
("Wong-wong,")
Page 12, "Richtofen" changed to "Richthofen" (fighting, von Richthofen
should)
Page 19, comma added (first Richthofen, his cousin)
Page 20, "Shickfuss" changed to "Schickfuss" (great-grandfather
Schickfuss fell)
Page 28, period changed to a comma (the breakage, I rode)
Page 37, "communique" changed to "communiqué" (first official
communiqué.)
Page 38, "prisoner. He told" changed to "prisoner, he told".
Page 42, the text for the sub-chapter has 1915 in the date. As two
chapters away he is in June 1915, this "21-22nd August, 1915" has been
changed to "21-22nd August, 1914".
Page 58, repeated word "a" removed from text. Original read (like a a
little toy)
Page 63, "particulary" changed to "particularity" (talent and particularity)
Page 68, repeated line "gradually to a stop and suddenly I was" was
deleted. The original read:
THE German enterprise in Russia came
gradually to a stop and suddenly I was
gradually to a stop and suddenly I was
transferred to a large battle-plane at Ostend
Page 68, footnote, "Grossfleugzeug" changed to "Grossflugzeug" (The
Grossflugzeug, or "G" class)
Page 69, "siezed" changed to "seized" (seized a hotel on the)
Page 70-71, a line from page 45 "imagine the confusion which followed.
The" was placed at the bottom of page 70. It was removed. The original
read:
only a single motor working.[A] When we
imagine the confusion which followed. The
were fairly far out I saw beneath us, not
Page 72, "we" changed to "they" (waited until they found it)
Page 73, footnote, "analagous" changed to "analogous" (German slang,
analogous more)
Page 79, footnote, "Grossfleugzeug" changed to "Grossflugzeug" (the
Grossflugzeug in the air)
Page 84, footnote, "Riesenfleugzeug" changed to "Riesenflugzeug"
(example of the Riesenflugzeug)