_Told by a Young German Aeronaut in a Letter to His Mother_
Dear Mother:
Thank God! After a veritable Odyssey, to-day at noon I again reached
my division. With much joy I was greeted on all sides, for, after a
four days' absence I was given up for lost. Dear little mother, I shall
tell you the story from the beginning. During the forenoon I went up
at D---- for the purpose of ascertaining the enemy's position at L----
and F----, and to take notes on their movements. Ober-Lieutenant K----
went along as observer, and my biplane soon carried us to a height
of about 800 metres above the enemy's position, which was sketched
and photographed time and again. As expected, we were soon the object
of a lively firing, and several times I felt a well-known trembling
in the machine--a sign that a shot had hit one of the wings. After a
three-hour flight we were able to give our reports to General Herringen
at headquarters. He praised us warmly and ordered that we be served a
roast chicken and he gave us some fine Havana cigars.
As I was again preparing my aeroplane in the afternoon, with the help
of several chauffeurs, who filled the benzine tank, and as I was
patching the four bullet holes with linen, a Bavarian officer told me
that he would like to observe the retreat of the English from the large
pike toward M----. I prepared my machine immediately, and around 4
o'clock, with Major G----, I went up. By following the streets it was
soon evident that the English retreat was without plan or order, but to
all appearances the troops wanted to reach fortified positions as fast
as they could. Perhaps they would flee all the way to Paris.
Paris! The Bavarian officer shrieking something to me. Though the motor
almost drowned, I understood what he meant. I glanced at the benzine
indicator. I possessed sufficient oil. Paris it would be!
Steering toward the south, we journeyed for half an hour, and then out
of the distance, far, far below, the gray stone housetops of the French
capital took shape. Something impelled me to increase our speed, and we
raced toward the city at seventy miles an hour. Incredibly fast Paris
becomes clearer and more distinct.
The chain of the forts St. Denis! Montmartre stands out through the
mist! The iron pillars of the Eifel Tower!... We are directly above
Paris. The major points below with his finger; then he slowly turns to
me, raises himself from his seat and shouts, "Hurrah!"
And I? From sheer joy, mother, I nearly went out of my mind. I began to
make the wildest circles in the air. I felt I could do anything. There
the white Sacred Heart Church, here the Gare du Nord, there Notre Dame,
there the old "Boul Mich," where as a student I had so often caroused
and which now, as conqueror, I soared above.
The heart of the enemy seemed defenseless; the proud, gleaming Seine
lay below me. Everything horrible which I always thought of Paris as
possessing vanished--only an impression of the wonderful and the great
remained; and I loved Paris more as a conqueror.
Over the housetops I swung in great circles. Little dots in the streets
showed me that crowds were gathering. They could not understand
how a German could handle the French invention more skilfully and
advantageously than the French themselves. They began to shoot at us.
It was fine. They were very bad shots. I felt like dropping a bomb--not
to kill them, but simply to see something blown up. Then from the
direction of Juvisy came a French monoplane. As it was more swift
than my biplane, I had to turn and try to escape. My Bavarian comrade
prepared my rifle and seized his pistol. The Frenchman approached
closer and closer. I attempted to reach the protecting clouds at 6,000
feet, but my pursuer flew swifter than we, ever nearer and nearer.
Suddenly I became aware of a second monoplane only 500 yards away.
It attempted to block my path. We had to act. I shot at the airman
ahead of us. Then a turn and the Major took aim. He shot once, twice,
three times. The enemy's machine, which was now next to us only 100
yards away, toppled, tilted upward, and then fell to the ground like
a stone. But our other pursuer was almost on top of us and shot at us
with pistols. Close to the gas lever a bullet hit the fuselage. Then
impenetrable fog concealed us from the enemy. I could hear the buzz of
his motor grow fainter and fainter.
When we again emerged from this gray ocean of clouds it was twilight.
But suddenly, before, behind and on the sides, white smoke clouds
appeared bursting shrapnel. Still flying above the enemy's position,
we were directly exposed to their artillery fire. Devil with it! The
fire grew worse. I knew from the little trembles that the machine
was getting blow upon blow, but it never entered my mind that those
shrapnel balls meant death to me. Something in man remains unmoved by
logic and knowledge--especially when you're in the air. There, of a
sudden, a white-yellow fire in front of me. The machine reared up. The
major seemed to reel to his feet. Blood was pouring from his shoulder.
The covering of the wings was tattered. The motor buzzed and roared as
before, but the screw was missing. A grenat shattered our propellor,
but, thank heaven, did no worse. My machine began sinking to earth. I
succeeded in gliding and threw the biplane down into the woods. The
branches and tree tops crashed to splinters. I struck the steering gear
and then was no longer aware of what went on around me. When I again
became conscious I was lying next to Major G. on the forest ground
surrounded by a group of German reservists. Recognizing the machine,
they had forced themselves into the forest in small numbers to save us.
Major G. had to be removed to the nearest hospital. I only received a
crushed leg.