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 ^. 
 
THE RED BATTLE FLYER 
 
CAl'TAIN BAROX VOX KJCHTHOFEX 
 
The 
 
 RED BATTLE FLYER 
 
 BY ^ 
 
 CepteiD Aenfrcd FreibGir 
 
 von Ricbtbofen 
 
 Translated by T. Ellis Barker, with a preface and 
 notes by C. G. Grey, editor of "The Aeroplane" 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 Robert M. McBride ^ Co. 
 1918 
 
Copyright 1918 
 
 By 
 
 ROBERT M. McBRIDE fef COMPANY 
 
 ,--\ \ 
 
 Printed in the United States oj America. 
 
 JUL -5 1918 
 
 Published July, 1918 
 
 'G:.A501131 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 Preface .... 
 
 I. My Family .... 
 
 II. The Outbreak of the War 
 
 III. Boredom Before Verdun 
 
 IV. In the Air .... 
 V. My First Solo Flight . 
 
 VI. I Fly In a Thunderstorm 
 
 VII. Bombing in Russia 
 
 VIII. My First English Victim 
 
 IX. I Get the OkIdre Pour le Merite 
 
 X. A Flying Man's Adventure 
 
 XI. My Record Day . 
 
 XII. Schafer Lands Between Lines 
 
 XIII. My Brother 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I 
 
 19 
 29 
 
 52 
 
 57 
 82 
 92 
 98 
 
 109 
 127 
 
 145 
 154 
 168 
 196 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 Captain Baron Von Richthofen . Frontispiece ^ 
 
 The Famous Richthofen "Circus" . . 64 
 
 The Fortieth Richthofen Victim . . 128 ■' 
 Lieut. Schafer Speaking With Another 
 
 Member of the Squadron . . . 194 
 Captain Richthofen with His Mascot Dog 
 
 "MoRiTz" 194^" 
 
 vu 
 
PREFACE 
 
 OOME time ago a Naval Officer who was 
 ^ engaged on particularly hazardous duty 
 was discussing calmly the chances tha<t he 
 and his like had of surviving the war, assum- 
 ing that it continued for several more years 
 and that his particular branch of it increased 
 its intensity. He wound up his remarks by 
 saying, "The chief reason why I particularly 
 want to survive the finish is that I'm so keen 
 on comparing notes with our opposite mem- 
 bers in the German Navy." 
 
 That is the answer to those who ask, as an 
 important official gentleman asked recently, 
 why this English translation of Rittmeister 
 von Richthofen's book should be published. 
 It gives our flying people an opportunity of 
 comparing notes with one of Germany*s 
 star-turn fighting pilots, just as that excel- 
 lent book by "Contact" gives the Germans 
 the chance of gathering the atmosphere of 
 
PREFACE 
 
 the Royal Flying Corps as it was in 1916 
 and 1917. 
 
 "The Red Battle-Flyer" has evidently been 
 carefully censored by the German authori- 
 ties. Also it has possibly been touched up 
 here and there for propagandist purposes. 
 Consequently, although the narrative as it 
 stands is extraordinarily interesting, the 
 book as a whole is still more interesting on 
 account of what one reads between the lines, 
 and of what one can deduce from the general 
 outlook of the writer. There is, perhaps, 
 little to learn of immediate topical interest, 
 but there is much that explains things which 
 were rather difficult to understand in the 
 past, and the understanding of such points 
 gives one a line of reasoning which should 
 be useful to our active-service aviators in 
 the future. 
 
 When one makes due allowance for the 
 propagandist nature of the book, which gives 
 one the general impression of the writing 
 of a gentleman prepared for publication by 
 a hack journalist, one forms a distinctly fa- 
 vorable mental picture of the young Ritt- 
 
PREFACE 
 
 meister Baron von Richthofen. Our old 
 friend Froissart is credited with the state- 
 ment that in his age of chivalry it was 
 always "impossible to inculcate into the 
 German knights the true spirit of knightli- 
 ness." Which seems to indicate that the 
 practical German mind of those days could 
 not understand the whimsicalities of the 
 Latin ideas of chivalry, which — for example 
 — bade a knight against whose shield an 
 opponent "brake his spear" haul off out of 
 the fight till the lance-less enemy unsheathed 
 his sword and "drave into the combat" again. 
 Probably the Hun of those days proceeded 
 to stick his opponent in the midriff — wher- 
 ever it may be — and so finished the fight. 
 
 In the same true spirit of knightliness an 
 Englishman knocks a man down and then 
 stands back so that he can get up and have 
 another chance, whereas a more practical 
 person would take excellent care that his 
 opponent never got up till he had acknowl- 
 edged himself beaten. It is all a matter of 
 the point of view, and largely no doubt a 
 matter of education. However, making due 
 
PREFACE 
 
 allowance for the point of view, one finds 
 surprisingly little Hunnishness in von Rich- 
 thofen's manners or methods as set forth in 
 print. 
 
 It is one of the accepted facts of the war 
 that the German aviators have displayed 
 greater chivalry than any other branch of 
 the German services. It was a common 
 occurrence for their pilots to fly over our 
 lines in the course of their business, and, by 
 way of variety from that business, to drop 
 packets containing letters from captured 
 British aviators, or the personal belongings 
 of the dead. One gathers that these acts of 
 courtesy have become less frequent of late, 
 owing to the intensification of aerial war- 
 fare, but it seems that captured and killed 
 aviators still receive the full courtesies of 
 war from the German aviators, whatever 
 may be the fate of prisoners in other hands 
 afterwards. 
 
 It is not surprising therefore to find that, 
 taking him all round, Rittmeister von Rich- 
 thofen conveys to one the general impression 
 that, mutatis mutandis, he is very like an 
 
PREFACE 
 
 English public school boy of good family. 
 His egotism, as one finds it in the book, is 
 the egotism of a young man who is frankly 
 pleased with himself, but is more elated by 
 his good luck than by his cleverness. 
 
 Taking him by and large, one rather likes 
 von Richthofen, and one fancies that most 
 of the R.F.C. people who have fought him 
 would be quite pleased after the war to sit 
 at table with him and compare notes over 
 the cigarettes and liquors, .as my Naval 
 friend wants to do with his pre-war friends 
 of the German Navy. And there are un- 
 happily not too many of our present enemies 
 of whom one would like to express such an 
 opinion. 
 
 When one comes to read into the book one 
 begins to find many interesting things 
 about the German Army, and the war in 
 general, as well as about the German Feld- 
 fliegartruppen — or Flying Service. The Ger- 
 man is not really a skilful censor. Just as 
 certain portraits painted by an artist at 
 Ruhleben conveyed by the expression of the 
 faces a good deal that Germany would like 
 
PREFACE 
 
 hidden, so von Richthofen's book, though 
 carefully censored, lets out quite a good deal 
 of information. 
 
 The first thing that strikes one is that 
 Germany's standing army at the beginning 
 of the war was nothing like so perfect a 
 fighting machine as we in this country be- 
 lieved. Although, like all the people with 
 any sense in this country, the German Army 
 knew that a war was coming, the officers 
 and men seem to have set about their work 
 in a singularly amateurish way, judging by 
 the short section of the book devoted to the 
 opening of the war on the Russian Front. 
 And one is pleased to find that von Rich- 
 thofen has the grace to laugh at himself and 
 his brother-officers for their mistakes. 
 
 In some ways the soldiers of all nations 
 resemble one another strongly. For in- 
 stance, one finds in this book the same con- 
 tempt for what the Germans picturesquely 
 call a "base-hog," as the French have for 
 the "embusque" and as the British front- 
 line officer has for the young and able- 
 bodied officer who is "Something on the 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Staff." This obnoxious breed is the same 
 in all armies, and must be clearly distin- 
 guished from the carefully trained and ex- 
 pensively educated General Staff Officer, 
 who is very much of a specialist and is the 
 very brain of the Army. 
 
 When we come to the purely aviatic por- 
 tion of the book one finds more of the real 
 von Richthofen and less of the cavalry 
 officer. His honesty about his utter mental 
 confusion the first time he went into the air 
 recalls General Brancker's famous remark 
 in his lecture to the Aeronautical Society 
 when he said that no one ever sees anything 
 at all during his first hour in the air owing 
 to the hopeless confusion in his mind caused 
 by the novel aspect of everything. Von 
 Richthofen's description of his experience is 
 about the best thing that has been written 
 on the subject. 
 
 An interesting bit of information is dis- 
 closed in his description of his flight in a 
 "Grossflugzeug," on September 1st, 1915. 
 At that period little was known about twin- 
 engined aeroplanes. The Germans were 
 
PREFACE 
 
 known to have tried them, but they were 
 not a success. The only example known to 
 our people — though probably there were 
 actually .several different machines — was 
 commonly known in the R.F.C. as '"Wong- 
 wong," on account of the curious noise made 
 by the engines or air-screws when they got 
 "out of phase" — as an electrician might 
 call it. This noise is now quite familiar to 
 the inhabitants of Southeastern England 
 as the characteristic note of the Gotha 
 bombers. 
 
 Von Richthofen's good judgment of fight- 
 ing values, though he was then only an 
 observer, and a novice at that, is shown by 
 his disapproval of the twin-engined aero- 
 plane as a fighting machine. It is also of 
 interest to learn that at that period the 
 Germans had tried an auto-lock device to 
 hold the rudder of a twin-engined machine 
 over to one side so that it would fly straight 
 if one engine went out of action, an ingeni- 
 ous idea even if foredoomed to failure. 
 
 It is encouraging to find that though 
 these twin-engined machines were in opera- 
 
 8 
 
PREFACE 
 
 tion in September, 1915, the first bombing 
 squadron so composed only came into action 
 against defenceless Bucharest a year later. 
 This shows that actually we in this country 
 are not so very much slower in producing 
 our new ideas, for our big Handley Page 
 twin-engined biplanes first flew towards the 
 end of 1915, and we began to use them regu- 
 larly early in 1917 — only a little more than 
 a year later. 
 
 The similarity of aviators in all countries 
 is shown by von Richthofen's frank confes- 
 sion of blue funk when he made his first 
 flight alone. That first solo is always the 
 most anxious time in a pilot's career. An- 
 other touch of that nature which makes all 
 aviators akin is seen in his accounts of how 
 he and other pupils under instruction used 
 to fly off on cross-country training trips and 
 suffer from opportune forced landings in the 
 parks of their friends or in likely-looking 
 estates. One imagined that this manifesta- 
 tion of "wongling" was an essentially Eng- 
 lish trick, and would not have been tolerated 
 for a moment under the iron discipline of 
 
 9 
 
PREFACE 
 
 the German Army. In the early days of the 
 R.F.C. this looking for opulent hosts used 
 to be known sarcastically as "hunting for 
 Jew-palaces." 
 
 The state of affairs on the Russian front 
 is well shown in the brief reference in the 
 book. "Flying in the East is absolutely a 
 holiday," says the writer, who adds that 
 there was no danger on the Russian front, 
 except the danger of being massacred by the 
 Russians if brought down by engine failure. 
 From which one understands that the Rus- 
 sians did not approve of making prisoners 
 of enemy aviators. Their "Archies" were 
 apparently good, but too few to be useful, 
 and their aviators practically did not exist. 
 Which is rather what one ventured to sur- 
 mise in print at the time, despite the mag- 
 niloquent Russian communiques. When one 
 thinks of all the good British and French 
 aeroplanes and engines which were sent to 
 Russia one regrets the waste of material. 
 
 On the subject of air fighting, von Rich- 
 thofen is always worth studying carefully. 
 None will dispute his wisdom in laying stress 
 
 10 
 
PREFACE 
 
 on the importance of calmness in an air 
 fight. We have lost many good fighting 
 pilots through their getting excited and 
 dashing headlong into an unequal combat. 
 He, or his editor, has been sufficiently skil- 
 ful not to give away his pet method of 
 attack. However, one gathers that he de- 
 pended largely on his first rush for his re- 
 sults, rather than on a prolonged series of 
 manoeuvres. 
 
 His dictum that "in air fighting results 
 depend on ability and not on trickery," 
 rather bears out this impression. Neverthe- 
 less he occasionally tells of a lengthy tussle 
 with a particularly skilful enemy. 
 
 Such a story relates how that very gallant 
 gentleman. Major Lanoe Hawker, one of the 
 best loved and admired of the R.F.C.'s many 
 gallant fighting leaders, fell. It would seem 
 that Major Hawker's machine was out- 
 classed rather than that he was beaten by 
 superior skill. One is glad to find that von 
 Richthofen pays a tribute to the bravery and 
 ability of his enemy, and it is perhaps some 
 slight consolation to those of us who knew 
 
 II 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Lanoe Hawker to think that he fell a victim 
 to the Germans' best man and not to a 
 chance shot from an unworthy foe. 
 
 It is rather curious that some time after 
 emphasizing the fact that trickery does not 
 pay in air fighting, von Richtofen should 
 show how trickery does pay by describing his 
 young brother Lothar's trick of pretending 
 to be shot and letting his machine fall appar- 
 ently out of control, so as to break off a fight 
 with opponents who were above his weight. 
 One is inclined to wonder how many opti- 
 mistic young air-fighters have reported 
 enemy machines as "driven down out of con- 
 trol," when in reality the wily Hun has only 
 been getting out of the way of harm. The 
 older hands in these days are not easily 
 caught by such a trick, and the High Com- 
 mand refuses to count any victims so claimed 
 unless the performance is verified by inde- 
 pendent witnesses either on the ground or 
 aloft. 
 
 Another point of interest in von Rich- 
 thofen's fighting methods is that he states, 
 that as a rule, he opens fire at 50 yards. Dis- 
 
 12 
 
PREFACE 
 
 tances are hard to judge in the air. The pilot 
 is more Hkely to underestimate them than 
 otherwise, just as one does in judging dis- 
 tances at sea. But von Richthofen is prob- 
 ably as good a judge as any, and in this he 
 seems to be stating a plain fact. In these 
 days 50 yards is fairly long range. Some of 
 our own crack fighters prefer 50 feet, if they 
 can get into their favorite positions. Any- 
 how he shows the unwisdom of opening tire 
 at 1,000 yards, as some inexperienced and 
 excited machine-gunners are rather apt 
 to do. 
 
 Von Richthofen's chaser squadron — or 
 Jagdstaffel, as the Germans call these forma- 
 tions — was the first to be known as a 
 "circus." The famous Boelcke squadron, 
 although a fairl}^ mobile body, the members 
 of which co-operated closely on occasion, 
 never developed formation fighting to the 
 extent that von Richthofen did. 
 
 His men, although, as the book shows, 
 they went out periodically on lone-hand 
 ventures, generally flew in a body, number- 
 ing anywhere from half a dozen to fifteen or 
 
 13 
 
PREFACE 
 
 SO. Their leader chose to paint his little 
 Albatros a brilliant pillar-box red. The 
 others painted their machines according to 
 their fancy. Some had yellow noses, blue 
 bodies and green wings. Some were pale 
 blue underneath and black on top. Some 
 were painted in streaks, some with spots. 
 In fact, they rang the changes on the whole 
 of the paint-box. 
 
 They flew wonderfully, being all picked 
 men, and in a fight they performed in a man- 
 ner which would have seemed impossible to 
 the most expert aerial acrobats. 
 
 Also, the squadron was moved from place 
 to place as a self-contained unit, so that it 
 appeared wherever the fighting was thick- 
 est, or wherever British or French recon- 
 naissance machines were busiest. It would 
 be operating at Verdun one week. The next 
 week it would be north of Arras. A few 
 days later it would be down on the Somme. 
 But as a rule it specialized on the British 
 front. Wherever it pitched its tents it did 
 its regular squadron performance, and fol- 
 lowed it later in the day with lone-hand 
 
 14 
 
PREFACE 
 
 raids, or "strafing" flight by two or three 
 machines at a time. 
 
 When one considers the harlequin coloring 
 of the machines, their acrobatic flying and 
 their "two shows a day" performances from 
 their one-week pitches, it follows logically 
 that the humorists of the R.F.C. simply had 
 to call the squadron "von Richthofen's 
 Traveling Circus." "^ 
 
 Since then the word has acquired a mean- 
 ing of its own among flying men. It con- 
 notes practically any special formation or- 
 ganized for the purpose of hunting enemy 
 aviators, and consisting of picked men under 
 a specially skilful leader. It need not neces- 
 sarily be more mobile than any other squad- 
 ron, and it need not indulge in freak color- 
 ings, though in the nature of its work, its 
 flying must be acrobatic. The British "cir- 
 cuses" are in these days superior to the Ger- 
 man circuses, because our machines are now 
 at least as good as those of the Germans, and 
 so our men, who have always been of higher 
 average quality than the German aviators, 
 have a fair chance of proving their worth. 
 
 15 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Of those of von Richthofen's circus men- 
 tioned in the book, Schafer was the first to 
 be killed. Before the war he lived in Lon- 
 don, to learn English, working in an ofhce 
 in the city, when so inclined, but mostly 
 spending his time on the river, or in sport. 
 Those who knew him say that he was a 
 pleasant lad and a good sportsman. 
 
 Voss was the next to go, after what has 
 been described by those who were in it as 
 one of the most gallant fights of the war. 
 On a Fokker triplane with a French le 
 Rhone engine — evidently an experimental 
 machine built for quick manoeuvring — he 
 fought single-handed a patrol of six of our 
 people, when he could have broken off the 
 fight and have got away by abandoning an 
 inferior companion. He was a brave man 
 and a most brilliant pilot. His flying and j 
 shooting in his last fight are said to have 
 been marvelously clever. None admire his . 
 bravery more than those who fought him. I 
 
 Others of the "circus" have fallen since 
 then, and the present "Richthofen Jagd- 
 staffel" is probably constituted very differ- 
 
 i6 
 
PREFACE 
 
 ently from that band of high-spirited desper- 
 adoes which was evolved from the original 
 Boelcke squadron, and helped to build up 
 the fame of von Richthofen. There is none 
 of the old R.F.C. who would not cheerfully 
 kill what is left of the "circus," and there is 
 probably none who would not gladly shake 
 hands with the survivors after peace is de- 
 clared. They are worthy enemies and brave 
 men. 
 
 This little book gives one a useful insight 
 into the enemy's methods, and more than a 
 little respect for at any rate some of those 
 whom we are at present endeavoring to kill. 
 
 C. G. GREY, 
 Editor, The Aeroplane. 
 
 17 
 
My Family, 
 
 'T'HE members of my family — that of 
 ^ Richthofen — have taken no very great 
 part in wars until now^. The Richthofens 
 have always lived in the country; indeed, 
 there has scarcely been one of them with- 
 out a landed estate, and the few who did 
 not live in the country have, as a rule, en- 
 tered the State service. My grandfather 
 and all my ancestors before him had estates 
 about Breslau and Striegau. Only in the 
 generation of my grandfather it happened 
 that the first Richthofen' his cousin, became 
 a General. 
 
 My mother belongs to the family Von 
 Schickfuss und Neudorf. Their character 
 resembles that of the Richthofen people. 
 There were a few soldiers in that family. 
 
 19 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 All the rest were agrarians. The brother of 
 my great-grandfather Shickfuss fell in 1806. 
 During the Revolution of 1848 one of the 
 finest castles of a Schickfuss was burnt 
 down. The Schickfuss have, as a rule, only 
 become Captains of the Reserve. 
 
 In the family Schickfuss and in the family 
 Falckenhausen — my grandmother's maiden 
 name was Falckenhausen — there were two 
 principal hobbies : horse riding and game 
 shooting. My mother's brother, Alexander 
 Schickfuss, has done a great deal of game 
 shooting in Africa, Ceylon, Norway and 
 Hungary. 
 
 My father is practically the first member 
 of our branch of the family to become a 
 professional soldier. At an early age he 
 entered the Corps of Cadets and later 
 joined the 12th Regiment of Uhlans. He 
 was the most conscientious soldier imagin- 
 able. He began to suffer from difficulty of 
 hearing and had to resign. He got ear 
 trouble because he saved one of his men 
 from drowning and though he was wet 
 through and through he insisted upon con- 
 
 20 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 tinuing his duties as if nothing had hap- 
 pened, wet as he was, without taking notice 
 of the rigor of the weather. The present 
 generation of the Richthofens contains, of 
 course, many more soldiers. In war every 
 able-bodied Richthofen is, of course, on 
 active service. In the very beginning of the 
 present war I lost six cousins, and all were 
 in the cavalry. 
 
 I was named after my uncle Manfred, 
 who' in peace time, was adjutant to His 
 Majesty and Commander of the Corps of 
 the Guards. During the war he has been 
 Commander of a Corps of Cavalry. 
 
 My father was in the 1st Regiment of 
 Cuirassiers in Breslau when I was born on 
 the 2nd of May, 1892. We then lived at 
 Kleinburg. I received tuition privately until 
 my ninth year. Then I went for a year to 
 school in Schweidnitz and then I became 
 Cadet in Wahlstatt. The people of Schweid- 
 nitz considered me as one of themselves. 
 Having been prepared for a military career 
 as a Cadet, I entered the 1st Regiment of 
 Uhlans. 
 
 21 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 My own adventures and experiences will 
 be found in this book. 
 
 My brother, Lothar, is the other flying- 
 man Richthofen. He wears the Ordre pour 
 le Merite. My youngest brother is still in 
 the Corps of Cadets and he is waiting 
 anxiously until he is old enough to go on 
 active service. My sister, like all the ladies 
 of our family, is occupied in nursing the 
 wounded. 
 
 My Life as a Cadet 
 
 A S a little boy of eleven I entered the 
 Cadet Corps. I was not particularly 
 eager to become a Cadet, but my father 
 wished it. So my wishes were not con- 
 sulted. 
 
 I found it difficult to bear the strict dis- 
 cipline and to keep order. I did not care 
 very much for the instruction I received. 
 I never was good at learning things. I did 
 just enough work to pass. In my opinion it 
 would have been wrong to do more than was 
 just sufficient, so I worked as little as pos- 
 sible. The consequence was that my teach- 
 ers did not think overmuch of me. On the 
 
 22 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 other hand, I was very fond of sport. Par- 
 ticularly I liked gymnastics, football, and 
 other outdoor amusements. I could do all 
 kinds of tricks on the horizontal bar. For 
 this I received various prizes from the Com- 
 mander. 
 
 I had a tremendous liking for all risky 
 foolery. For instance, one fine day, with my 
 friend Frankenberg, I climbed the famous 
 steeple of Wahlstatt by means of the light- 
 ning conductor and tied my handkerchief to 
 the top. I remember exactly how difficult 
 it was to negotiate the gutters. Ten years 
 later, when I visited my little brother at 
 Wahlstatt, I saw my handkerchief still tied 
 up high in the air. 
 
 My friend Frankenberg was the first 
 victim of the war as far as I know. 
 
 I liked very much better the Institution 
 of Lichterfelde. I did not feel so isolated 
 from the world and began to live a little 
 more like a human being. 
 
 My happiest reminiscences of Lichter- 
 felde are those of the great sports when my 
 opponent was Prince Frederick Charles. The 
 
 23 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Prince gained many first prizes against me 
 both in running and football, as I had not 
 trained my body as perfectly as he had done. 
 
 / Enter the Army. (Easter, ipii) 
 
 /^F course, I was very impatient to get into 
 ^^ the Army. Immediately after passing 
 my examination I came forward and was 
 placed in the 1st Regiment of Uhlans, "Em- 
 peror Alexander III." I had selected that 
 regiment. It was garrisoned in my beloved 
 Silesia and I had some acquaintances and 
 relations there, who advised me to join it. 
 
 I had a colossal liking for the service with 
 my regiment. It is the finest thing for a 
 young soldier to be a cavalry man. 
 
 I can say only little about the time which 
 I passed at the War Academy. My experi- 
 ence there reminds me too much of the 
 Corps of Cadets and consequently my 
 reminiscences are not over agreeable. 
 
 I remember that once one of my teachers 
 bought a very fat mare, an amiable animal, 
 whose only fault was that she was rather 
 old. She was supposed to be fifteen years 
 
 24 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 old. She had rather stout legs, but she 
 jumped splendidly. I rode her frequently, 
 and her name was Biffy. 
 
 About a year later, when I joined the regi- 
 ment, my Captain, von Tr , who was very 
 
 fond of sport, told me that he had bought 
 a funny little mare, a fat beast, who jumped 
 very nicely. We all were very interested 
 to make the acquaintance of the fat jumping 
 horse who bore the strange name Biffy. I 
 had quite forgotten the old mare of my 
 teacher at the War Academy. One fine 
 morning, the animal arrived and I was as- 
 tonished to find that the ancient Bifify was 
 now standing as an eight-year-old in the 
 Captain's stable. In the meantime, she had 
 changed her master repeatedly, and had 
 much risen in value. My teacher had bought 
 her for $375., as a fifteen-year-old, and von 
 
 Tr had bought her a year later, as an 
 
 eight-year-old, for $850. She won no more 
 prizes for jumping, in spite of her renewed 
 youth, but she changed her master once 
 more and was killed in action in the begin- 
 ning of the war. 
 
 25 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 / Become an Officer. {Autumn, igi2) 
 
 \ T last I was given the epaulettes. It 
 '^^ was a glorious feeling, the finest I have 
 ever experienced when people called me 
 Lieutenant. 
 
 My father bought me a beautiful mare 
 called Santuzza. It was a marvelous animal, 
 as hard as nails. She kept her place in the 
 procession like a lamb. In course of time 
 I discovered that she possessed a great talent 
 for jumping and I made up my mind to train 
 her. She jumped incredible heights. 
 
 In this enterprise I got much sympathy 
 and co-operation from my comrade von 
 Wedel, who won many a prize with his 
 charger, Fandango. 
 
 We two trained our horses for a jumping 
 competition and a steeplechase in Breslau. 
 Fandango did gloriously. Santuzza also did 
 well by taking a great deal of trouble. I 
 hoped to achieve something with her. On 
 the day before she was to be put on the 
 train I wished once more to jump all the 
 obstacles in our training ground. In doing 
 
 26 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 SO we slipped. Santuzza hurt her shoulder 
 and I broke my collar-bone. 
 
 I expected that my dear fat mare, San- 
 tuzza, would also be a quick runner and was 
 extremely surprised when she was beaten 
 by Wedel's thoroughbred. 
 
 Another time I had the good fortune to 
 ride a very fine horse at a Sports Meeting 
 at Breslau. My horse did extremely well 
 and I had hopes of succeeding. After a run 
 of about half the course I approached the 
 last obstacle. At a long distance I saw that 
 the obstacle in front was bound to be some- 
 thing extraordinary because a great crowd 
 was watching near it. I said to myself: 
 "Keep your spirits up. You are sure to get 
 into trouble." I approached the obstacle, 
 going full speed. The people about waved 
 to me and shouted that I should not go so 
 fast, but I neither heard nor saw. My horse 
 jumped over and on the other side there was 
 a steep slope with the river Weistritz in 
 front. Before I could say hnife the horse, 
 having jumped, fell with a gigantic leap into 
 the river and horse and rider disappeared. 
 
 27 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Of course, I was thrown over the head of the 
 animal. Felix got out of the river on the 
 one side and I on the other. When I came 
 back, the weighing people were surprised 
 that I had put on ten pounds instead of los- 
 ing two pounds as usual. Happily no one 
 noticed that I was wet through and through. 
 I had also a very good charger. The un- 
 fortunate beast had learned to do every- 
 thing — running, steeplechasing, jumping, 
 army service. There was nothing that the 
 poor beast had not learned. Its name was 
 Blume and I had some pleasant successes 
 with him. The last prize I got riding that 
 horse was when I rode for the Kaiser Prize 
 in 1913. I was the only one who got over 
 the whole course without a single slip. In 
 doing so I had an experience which cannot 
 easily be repeated. In galloping over a piece 
 of heath land, I suddenly stood on my head. 
 The horse had stepped into a rabbit hole and 
 in my fall I broke my collar-bone. Notwith- 
 standing the breakage. I rode another forty 
 miles without making a mistake and arrived 
 keeping good time. 
 
 28 
 
II 
 
 The Outbreak of War 
 
 A LL the papers contained nothing but 
 -^^ fantastic stories about the war. How- 
 ever, for several months we had been ac- 
 customed to war talk. We had so often 
 packed our service trunks that the whole 
 thing had become tedious. No one believed 
 any longer that there would be war. We, 
 who were close to the frontier, who were 
 "the eyes of the Army," to use the words of 
 my Commander, believed least that there 
 would be war. 
 
 On the day before military preparations 
 began we were sitting with the people of 
 the detached squadron at a distance of ten 
 kilometres from the frontier, in the officers' 
 club. We were eating oysters, drinking 
 champagne and gambling a little. We were 
 
 29 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 very merry. No one thought of war. 
 
 It is true that, some days before, Wedel's 
 mother had startled us a little. She had ar- 
 rived from Pomerania in order to see her son 
 before the beginning of the war. As she 
 found us in the pleasantest mood and as she 
 ascertained that we did not think of war, 
 she felt morally compelled to invite us to a 
 very decent luncheon. 
 
 We were extremely gay and noisy when 
 suddenly the door opened. It disclosed 
 Count Kospoth, the Administrator of 01s. 
 He looked like a ghost. 
 
 We greeted our old friend with a loud 
 Hoorah! He explained to us the reason of 
 his arrival. He had come personally to the 
 frontier in order to convince himself whether 
 the rumors of an impending world-war were 
 true. He assumed, quite correctly that the 
 best information could be obtained at the 
 frontier. He was not a little surprised when 
 he saw our peaceful assembly. We learned 
 from him that all the bridges in Silesia were 
 being patrolled by the military and that steps 
 were being taken to fortify various positions. 
 
 30 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 We convinced him quickly that the possi- 
 biHty of war was absolutely nil and con- 
 tinued our festivity. 
 
 On the next day we were ordered to take 
 the field. 
 
 We Cross the Frontier 
 
 T^ O us cavalry men on the frontier the 
 '*' word "war" had nothing unfamiliar. 
 Everyone of us knew to the smallest detail 
 what to do and what to leave undone. At 
 the same time, nobody had a very clear idea, 
 what the first thing would be. Every 
 soldier was delighted to be able to show his 
 capacity and his personal value. 
 
 We young cavalry Lieutenants had the 
 most interesting task. We were to study 
 the ground, to work towards the rear of the 
 enemy, and to destroy important objects. 
 All these tasks require real men. 
 
 Having in my pocket my directions and 
 having convinced myself of their impor- 
 tance, through hard study during at least a 
 year, I rode at the head of a file of soldiers 
 for the first time against the enemy at 
 twelve o'clock midnight. 
 
 31 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 A river marks the frontier and I expected 
 to be fired upon on reaching it. To my as- 
 tonishment I could pass over the bridge 
 vsrithout an incident. On the next morning, 
 without having had any adventures, we 
 reached the church tower of the village of 
 Kieltze, which was well known to us through 
 our frontier rides. 
 
 Everything had happened without seeing 
 anything of the enemy or rather without 
 being seen by him. The question now was 
 what should I do in order not to be noticed 
 by the villagers? My first idea was to lock 
 up the "pope"*. We fetched him from his 
 house, to his great surprise. I locked him 
 up among the bells in the church tower, took 
 away the ladder and left him sitting up 
 above. I assured him that he would be exe- 
 cuted if the population should show any 
 hostile inclinations. A sentinel placed on the 
 tower observed the neighborhood. 
 
 I had to send reports every day by dis- 
 patch-riders. Very soon my small troop 
 was converted entirely into dispatch-riders 
 
 •Russian priest. 
 
 32 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 and dissolved, so that I had at last, as the 
 only one remaining, to bring in my own 
 report. 
 
 Up to the fifth night everything had been 
 quiet. During that night the sentinel came 
 suddenly rushing to the church tower near 
 which the horses had been put. He called 
 out, "The Cossacks are there!" The night 
 was as dark as pitch. It rained a little. No 
 stars were visible. One couldn't see a yard 
 ahead. 
 
 As a precaution we had previously 
 breached the wall around the churchyard. 
 Through the breach we took the horses into 
 the open. The darkness was so great that 
 we were in perfect security after having ad- 
 vanced fifty yards. I myself went with the 
 sentinel, carbine in hand, to the place where 
 he pretended he had seen Cossacks. 
 
 Gliding along the churchyard wall I came 
 to the street. When I got there I experi- 
 enced a queer feeling, for the street swarmed 
 with Cossacks. I looked over the wall, be- 
 hind which the rascals had put the horses. 
 Most of them had lanterns, and they acted 
 
 33 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 very uncautiously and were very loud. I esti- 
 mated that there were from twenty to thirty 
 of them. One had left his horse and gone to 
 the Pope whom I had let off the day before. 
 
 Immediately it flashed through my brain: 
 "Of course we are betrayed!" Therefore, 
 we had to be doubly careful. I could not 
 risk a fight because I could not dispose of 
 more than two carbines. Therefore, I re- 
 solved to play at robber and police. 
 
 After having rested a few hours, our 
 visitors rode away again. 
 
 On the next day I thought it wise to 
 change our quarters. On the seventh day 
 I was again back in my garrison and every- 
 one stared at me as if I were a ghost. The 
 staring was not due to my unshaved face, 
 but because there had been a rumor that 
 Wedel and I had fallen at Kalisch. The 
 place where it had occurred, the time and all 
 the circumstances of my death had been re- 
 ported with such a wealth of detail that the 
 report had spread throughout Silesia. My 
 mother had already received visits of con- 
 dolence. The only thing that had been 
 
 34 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 omitted was an announcement of my death 
 in the newspaper. 
 
 An amusing incident happened about the 
 same time. A veterinary surgeon had been 
 ordered to take ten Uhlans and to requisi- 
 tion horses on a farm. The farm was situ- 
 ated about two miles from the road. He 
 came back full of excitement and reported 
 to us: 
 
 "I was riding over a stubble field, the field 
 where the scarecrows are, when I suddenly 
 saw hostile infantry at a distance. With- 
 out a moment's hesitation I drew my sword 
 and ordered the Uhlans to attack them with 
 their lances. The men were delighted and 
 at the fastest gallop they rushed across the 
 field. When we came near the enemy I dis- 
 covered that the hostile infantry consisted 
 of some deer which were grazing in a near- 
 by meadow. At that distance I had mis- 
 taken them for soldiers, owing to my short- 
 sightedness." 
 
 For a long time that dear gentleman had 
 to suflfer the pleasantries of the rest of us 
 because of his bold attack. 
 
 35 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 To France 
 ^Xl^ were ordered to take the train in 
 my garrison town. No one had any 
 idea in what direction we were to go. 
 
 There were many rumors but most of the 
 talk was very wild. However, in this present 
 case, we had the right idea : westward. 
 
 A second-class compartment had been 
 given to four of us. We had to take in 
 provisions for a long railway journey. 
 Liquid refreshments, of course, were not 
 lacking. However, already on the first day 
 we discovered that a second-class compart- 
 ment is altogether too narrow for four war- 
 like youths. Therefore, we resolved to dis- 
 tribute ourselves. I arranged part of a 
 luggage car and converted it into a bed- 
 drawing room, to my great advantage. I 
 had light, air, and plenty of space. I pro- 
 cured straw at one of the stations and put 
 a tent cloth on top of it. In my improvised 
 sleeping-car I slept as well as I did in my 
 four-poster in Ostrowo. We traveled night 
 and day, first through Silesia, and then 
 through Saxony, going westward all the 
 
 36 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 time. Apparently we were going in the 
 direction of Metz. Even the train conductor 
 did not know where he was going to. At 
 every station, even at stations where we did 
 not stop, there were huge crowds of men 
 and women who bombarded us with cheers 
 and flowers. The German nation had been 
 seized by a wild war enthusiasm. That was 
 evident. The Uhlans were particularly ad- 
 mired. The men in the train who had passed 
 through the station before us had probably 
 reported that we had met the enemy, and 
 we had been at war only for a week. Be- 
 sides, my regiment had been mentioned in 
 the first official communique. The 1st Regi- 
 ment of Uhlans and the 155th Regiment of 
 Infantry had taken Kalisch. We were there- 
 fore celebrated as heroes and naturally felt 
 like heroes. Wedel had found a Cossack 
 sword which he showed to admiring girls. 
 He made a great impression with it. Of 
 course we asserted that blood was sticking 
 to it and we invented hair-raising tales about 
 this peaceful sword of a police officer. We 
 were very wild and merry until we were 
 
 37 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 disembarked from the train at Busendorf, 
 near Diedenhofen. 
 
 A short time before the train arrived we 
 were held up in a long tunnel. It is un- 
 comfortable enough to stop in a tunnel in 
 peace time, but to stop suddenly in war is 
 still more uncomfortable. Some excited, 
 high-spirited fellow wanted to play a joke 
 and fired a shot. Before long there was 
 general firing in the tunnel. It was sur- 
 prising that no one was hurt. It has never 
 been found out how the general shooting 
 was brought about. 
 
 At Busendorf we had to get out of the 
 train. The heat was so great that our horses 
 almost collapsed. On the following day we 
 marched unceasingly northward in the direc- 
 tion of Luxemburg. In the meantime, I had 
 discovered that my brother had ridden in 
 the same direction with a cavalry division a 
 week before. I discovered his spoor once 
 more, but I didn't see him until a year later. 
 
 Arrived in Luxemburg no one knew what 
 were our relations with the people of that 
 little State. When I saw a Luxemburg 
 
 38 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 prisoner. He told me that he would com- 
 plain about me to the German Emperor if 
 I did not set him free immediately. I 
 thought there was reason in what he said. 
 So I let him go. We passed through the 
 town of Luxemburg and through Esch and 
 we approached the first fortified towns of 
 Belgium. 
 
 While advancing our infantry, and in- 
 deed, our whole division, manoeuvred ex- 
 actly as in peace time. All were extremely 
 excited. It was a good thing that we had 
 to act exactly as we had done at manoeuvres, 
 otherwise' we should certainly have done 
 some wild things. To the right and to the 
 left of us, before and behind us, on every 
 road, marched troops belonging to diflferent 
 army corps. One had the feeling that 
 everything was in a great disorder. Sud- 
 denly, this unspeakable cuddle-muddle was 
 dissolved and became a most wonderfully 
 arranged evolution. 
 
 I was entirely ignorant about the activi- 
 ties of our flying men, and I got tremen- 
 dously excited whenever I saw an aviator. 
 
 39 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Of course I had not the slightest idea 
 whether it was a German airman, or an 
 enemy. I had at that time not even the 
 knowledge that the German machines were 
 marked with crosses and the enemy ma- 
 chines with circles. The consequence was 
 that every aeroplane we saw was fired upon. 
 Our old pilots are still telling of their painful 
 feelings while being shot at by friend and 
 enemy with perfect impartiality. 
 
 We marched and marched, sending patrols 
 far ahead, until we arrived at Arlon. I had 
 an uneasy feeling when crossing, for a sec- 
 ond time, an enemy frontier. Obscure re- 
 ports of francs-tireurs, had already come to 
 my ears. 
 
 I had been ordered to work in connection 
 with my cavalry division, acting as a con- 
 necting link. On that day I had ridden no 
 less than sixty-six miles* with my men. Not 
 a horse failed us. That was a splendid 
 achievement. At Arlon I climbed the steeple 
 in accordance with the tactical principles 
 
 •This seems to be a translator's mistake for kilometres, which 
 would mean a little over 40 miles— in itself a sufficiently fine per- 
 formance. 
 
 40 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 which we had been taught in peace time. 
 Of course, I saw nothing, for the wicked 
 enemy was still far away. 
 
 At that time we were very harmless. For 
 instance, I had my men outside the town 
 and had ridden alone on bicycle right 
 through the town to the church tower and 
 ascended it. When I came down again I was 
 surrounded by a crowd of angry young men 
 who made hostile eyes and who talked 
 threateningly in undertones. My bicycle 
 had, of course, been punctured and I had 
 to go on foot for half an hour. This inci- 
 dent amused me. I should have been de- 
 lighted had it come to a fight. I felt abso- 
 lutely sure of myself with a pistol in my 
 hand. 
 
 Later on I heard that several days previ- 
 ously, the inhabitants had behaved very 
 seditiously towards our cavalry, and later 
 on towards our hospitals. It had therefore 
 been found necessary to place quite a num- 
 ber of these gentlemen against the wall. 
 
 In the afternoon I reached the station to 
 which I had been ordered, and learned that 
 
 41 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 close to Arlon my only cousin Richthofen 
 had been killed three days before. During 
 the rest o£ the day I stayed with the Cav- 
 alry Division. During the night a cause- 
 less alarm took place, and late at night I 
 reached my own regiment. 
 
 That was a beautiful time. We cavalry 
 men who had already been in touch with the 
 enemy and had seen something of war, 
 were envied by the men of the other armies. 
 For me it was the most beautiful time during 
 the whole of the war. I would much like 
 to pass again through the beginning of the 
 war. 
 
 / Hear the Whistling of the First 
 Bullets. {2i-22nd August, 1915) 
 
 T had been ordered to find out the strength 
 of the enemy occupying the large forest 
 near Virton. I started with fifteen Uhlans 
 and said to myself: "To-day I shall have 
 the first fight with the enemy." But my 
 task was not easy. In so big a forest there 
 may be lots of things hidden which one can 
 not see. 
 
 42 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 I went to the top of a little hill. A few 
 hundred paces in front of me was a huge 
 forest extending over many thousands of 
 acres. It was a beautiful August morning. 
 The forest seemed so peaceful and still that 
 I almost forgot all my war-like ideas. 
 
 We approached the margin of the forest. 
 As we could not discover anything suspi- 
 cious with our field glasses we had to go 
 near and find out whether we should be fired 
 upon. The men in front were swallowed up 
 by a forest lane. I followed and at my side 
 was one of my best Uhlans. At the entrance 
 to the forest was a lonely forester's cottage. 
 We rode past it. 
 
 The soil indicated that a short time pre- 
 viously considerable numbers of hostile 
 cavalry must have passed. I stopped my 
 men, encouraged them by addressing a few 
 words to them, and felt sure that I could 
 absolutely rely upon everyone of my 
 soldiers. Of course no one thought of any- 
 thing except of attacking the enemy. It 
 lies in the instinct of every German to rush 
 at the enemy wherever he meets him, par- 
 
 43 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 ticularly if he meets hostile cavalry. In my 
 mind's eye I saw myself at the head of my 
 Httle troop sabering a hostile squadron, and 
 was quite intoxicated with joyful expecta- 
 tion. The eyes of my Uhlans sparkled. Thus 
 we followed the spoor at a rapid trot. After 
 a sharp ride of an hour through the most 
 beautiful mountaindale the wood became 
 thinner. We approached the exit. I felt 
 convinced that there we should meet the 
 enemy. Therefore, caution! To the right 
 of our narrow path was a steep rocky wall 
 many yards high. To the left, was a narrow 
 rivulet and at the further side a meadow, 
 fifty yards wide, surrounded by barbed wire. 
 Suddenly, the trace of horses' hooves disap- 
 peared over a bridge into the bushes. My 
 leading men stopped because the exit from 
 the forest was blocked by a barricade. 
 
 Immediately I recognized that I had fallen 
 into a trap. I saw a movement among, the 
 bushes behind the meadow at my left and 
 noticed dismounted hostile cavalry. I esti- 
 mated that there were fully one hundred 
 rifles. In that direction nothing could be 
 
 44 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 done. My path right ahead was cut by the 
 barricade. To the right were steep rocks. To 
 the left the barbed wire surrounded the 
 meadow and prevented me attacking as I had 
 intended. Nothing was to be done except to 
 go back. I knew that my dear Uhlans would 
 be willing to do everything except to run 
 away from the enemy. That spoilt our fun, 
 for a second later we heard the first shot 
 which was followed by very intensive rifle 
 fire from the wood. The distance was from 
 fifty to one hundred yards. I had told my 
 men that they should join me immediately 
 when they saw me lifting up my hand. I 
 felt sure we had to go back. So I lifted my 
 arm and beckoned my men to follow. Pos- 
 sibly, they misunderstood my gesture. The 
 cavalrymen who were following me believed 
 me in danger, and they came rushing along 
 at a great speed to help me to get away. As 
 we were on a narrow forest path one can 
 imagine the confusion which followed. The 
 horses of the two men ahead rushed away in 
 a panic because the noise of every shot was 
 increased tenfold by the narrowness of the 
 
 45 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 hollow way. The last I saw of them was 
 as they leaped the barricade. I never heard 
 anything of them again. They were no 
 doubt made prisoners. I myself turned my 
 horse and gave him the spurs, probably for 
 the first time during his life. I had the 
 greatest difficulty to make the Uhlans who 
 rushed towards me understand that they 
 should not advance any further, that we 
 were to turn round and get away. My 
 orderly rode at my side. Suddenly his horse 
 was hit and fell. I jumped over them and 
 horses were rolling all around me. In short' 
 it was a wild disorder. The last I saw of my 
 servant, he was lying under his horse, ap- 
 parently not wounded, but pinned down by 
 the weight of the animal. The enemy had 
 beautifully surprised us. He had probably 
 observed us from the very beginning and 
 had intended to trap us and to catch us una- 
 wares as is the character of the French. 
 
 I was delighted when, two days later, I 
 saw my servant standing before me. He 
 wore only one boot for he had left the other 
 one under the body of his horse. He told 
 
 46 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 me how he had escaped. At least two squad- 
 rons of French cuirassiers had issued from 
 the forest in order to plunder the fallen 
 horses and the brave Uhlans. Not being 
 wounded, he had jumped up, climbed the 
 rocks and had fallen down exhausted among 
 the bushes. About two hours later, when the 
 enemy had again hidden himself, he had con- 
 tinued his flight. So he had joined me after 
 some days, but he could tell me little about 
 the fate of his comrades who had been left 
 behind. 
 
 A Ride With Loen 
 
 THE battle of Virton was proceeding. 
 My comrade Loen and I had once more 
 to ascertain what had become of the enemy. 
 We rode after the enemy during the whole 
 of the day, reached him at last and were 
 able to write a very decent report. In the 
 evening, the great question was: Shall we 
 go on riding, throughout the night in order 
 to join our troops, or shall we economize our 
 strength and take a rest so that we shall 
 be fresh the next day? The splendid thing 
 
 47 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 about cavalrymen on patrol is that they are 
 given complete liberty of action. 
 
 We resolved to pass the night near the 
 enemy and to ride on the next morning. Ac- 
 cording to our strategical notions, the enemy 
 was retiring and we were following him. 
 Consequently, we could pass the night with 
 fair security. 
 
 Not far from the enemy there was a won- 
 derful monastery with large stables. So 
 both Loen and I had quarters for ourselves 
 and our men. Of course, in the evening, 
 when we entered our new domicile, the 
 enemy was so near that he could have shot 
 us through the windows. 
 
 The monks were extremely amiable. They 
 gave us as much to eat and to drink as we 
 cared to have and we had a very good time. 
 The saddles were taken off the horses and 
 they were very happy when for the first time 
 in three days and three nights, a dead weight 
 of nearly three hundred pounds was taken 
 from their backs. We settled down as if 
 we were on manoeuvres and as if we were 
 in the house of a delightful host and friend. 
 
 48 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 At the same time, it should be observed 
 that three days later, we hanged several of 
 our hosts to the lanterns because they could 
 not overcome their desire to take a hand in 
 the w^ar. But that evening they were really 
 extremely amiable. We got into our night- 
 shirts, jumped into bed, posted a sentinel, 
 and let the Lord look after us. 
 
 In the middle of the night somebody sud- 
 denly flung open the door and shouted: 
 "Sir, the French are there!" I was too 
 sleepy and too heavy to be able to reply. 
 Loen, who was similarly incapacitated, gave 
 the most intelligent answer: "How many 
 are they?" The soldier stammered, full of 
 excitement" "We have shot dead two, but 
 we cannot say how many there are for it is 
 pitch dark." I heard Loen reply, in a sleepy 
 tone: "All right. When more arrive call me 
 again." Half a minute later both of us were 
 snoring again. 
 
 The sun was already high in the horizon 
 when we woke up from a refreshing sleep 
 the next morning. We took an ample break- 
 fast and then continued our journey. 
 
 49 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 As a matter of fact, the French had passed 
 by our castle during the night and our senti- 
 nels had fired on them. As it was a very 
 dark night nothing further followed. 
 
 Soon we passed through a pretty valley. 
 We rode over the old battlefield of our 
 Division and discovered, to our surprise, that 
 it was peopled not with German soldiers, but 
 with French Red Cross men. Here and 
 there were French soldiers. They looked as 
 surprised at seeing us as we did at seeing 
 them. Nobody thought of shooting. We 
 cleared out as rapidly as possible and gradu- 
 ally it dawned upon us that our troops, in- 
 stead of advancing, had retired. Fortun- 
 ately, the enemy had retired at the same 
 time in the opposite direction. Otherwise 
 I should now be somewhere in captivity. 
 
 We passed through the village of Robel- 
 mont where, on the previous day, we had 
 seen our Infantry in occupation. We en- 
 countered one of the inhabitants and asked 
 him what had become of our soldiers. He 
 looked very happy and assured me that the 
 Germans had departed. 
 
 50 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Late in the afternoon I reached my regi- 
 ment and was quite satisfied with the course 
 of events during the last twenty-four hours. 
 
 51 
 
Ill 
 
 Boredom Before Verdun 
 
 T AM a restless spirit. Consequently my 
 -*• activity in front of Verdun can only be 
 described as boresome. At the beginning I 
 was in the trenches at a spot where nothing 
 happened. Then I became a dispatch- 
 bearer and hoped to have some adventures. 
 But there I was mistaken. The fighting 
 men immediately degraded me and con- 
 sidered me a Base-hog. I was not really at 
 the Base but I was not allowed to advance 
 further than within 1500 yards behind the 
 front trenches. There, below the ground, I 
 had a bomb-proof, heated habitation. Now 
 and then I had to go to the front trenches. 
 That meant great physical exertion, for one 
 had to trudge uphill and downhill, criss- 
 cross, through an unending number of 
 
 52 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 trenches and mire-holes until at last one 
 arrived at a place where men were firing. 
 After having paid a short visit to the fight- 
 ing men, my position seemed to me a very 
 stupid one. 
 
 At that time. the digging business was 
 beginning. It had not yet become clear to 
 Lis what it means to dig approaches and end- 
 less trenches. Of course, we knew the 
 names of the various ditches and holes 
 through the lessons which we had received 
 at the War Academy. However, the digging 
 was considered to be the business of the 
 military engineers. Other troops were sup- 
 posed not to take a hand in it. Here, near 
 Combres, everyone was digging industri- 
 ously. Every soldier had a spade and a pick 
 and took all imaginable trouble in order to 
 get as deeply into the ground as possible. 
 It was very strange that in many places 
 the French were only five yards ahead of us. 
 One could hear them speak and see them 
 smoke cigarettes and now and then they 
 threw us a piece of paper. We conversed 
 with them, but nevertheless, we tried to 
 
 53 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER . 
 
 annoy them in every possible way, especially 
 with hand grenades. 
 
 Five hundreds yards in front of us and five 
 hundred yards behind the trenches the dense 
 forest of the Cote Lorraine had been cut 
 down by the vast number of shells and 
 bullets which were fired unceasingly. It 
 seemed unbelievable that in front men could 
 live. Nevertheless, the men in t'he front 
 trenches were not in as bad a position as the 
 men at the Base. 
 
 After a morning visit to the front 
 trenches, which usually took place at the 
 earliest hours of the day, the more tedious 
 business began. I had to attend to the tele- 
 phone. 
 
 On days when I was off duty I indulged 
 in my favorite pastime, game shooting. The 
 forest of La Chaussee gave me ample oppor- 
 tunities. When going for a ride I had no- 
 ticed that there were wild pigs about and 
 I tried to find out where I could shoot them 
 at night. Beautiful nights, with a full moon 
 and snow, came to my aid. With the assis- 
 tance of my servant I built a shelter seat 
 
 54 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 in a tree, at a spot where the pigs 
 passed, and waited there at night. Thus 
 I passed many a night sitting on the 
 branch of a tree and on the next morn- 
 ing found that I had become an icicle. 
 However, I got my reward. There was a 
 sow which was particularly interesting. 
 Every night she swam across the lake, broke 
 into a potato field, always at the same spot, 
 and then she swam back again. Of course 
 I very much wished to improve my acquaint- 
 ance with the animal. So I took a seat 
 on the other shore of the lake. In accord- 
 ance with our previous arrangement. Auntie 
 Pig appeared at midnight for her supper. I 
 shot her while she was still swimming and 
 she would have been drowned had I not 
 succeeded at the last moment in seizing her 
 by the leg. 
 
 At another time, I was riding with my 
 servant along a narrow path. Suddenly I 
 saw several wild pigs crossing it. Immedi- 
 ately I jumped from the horse, grasped my 
 servant's carbine and rushed several hundred 
 yards ahead. At the end of the procession 
 
 55 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 came a mighty boar. I had never yet seen 
 such a beast and was surprised at its gigantic 
 size. Now it ornaments my room and re- 
 minds me of my encounter. 
 
 In this manner I passed several months 
 when, one fine day, our division became busy. 
 We intended a small attack. I was de- 
 lighted, for now at last I should be able to 
 do something as a connecting link! But 
 there came another disappointment! I was 
 given quite a different job and now I had 
 enough of it. I sent a letter to my Com- 
 manding General and evil tongues report 
 that I told him: ''My dear Excellency! I 
 have not gone to war in order to collect 
 cheese and eggs, but for another purpose." 
 At first, the people above wanted to snarl 
 at me. But then they fulfilled -my wish. 
 Thus I joined the Flying Service at the end 
 of May, 1915. My greatest wish was ful- 
 filled. 
 
 56 
 
IV 
 
 In the Air 
 
 nPHE next morning at seven o'clock 
 ^ I was to fly for the first time as an 
 observer ! — I w^as naturally very excited, for 
 I had no idea what it would be like. Every- 
 one whom I had asked about his feelings 
 told me a different tale. The night before, 
 I went to bed earlier than usual in order to 
 be thoroughly refreshed the next morning. 
 We drove over to the flying ground, and I got 
 into a flying machine for the first time. The 
 draught from the propeller was a beastly 
 nuisance. I found it quite impossible to make 
 myself understood by the pilot. Everything 
 was carried away by the wind. If I took up 
 a piece of paper it disappeared. My safety 
 helmet slid off. My muflier dropped off. 
 My jacket was not sufficiently buttoned. In 
 
 57 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 short, I felt very uncomfortable. Before I 
 knew what was happening, the pilot went 
 ahead at full speed and the machine started 
 rolling. We went faster and faster. I 
 clutched the sides of the car. Suddenly, the 
 shaking was over, the machine was in the 
 air and the earth dropped away from under 
 me. 
 
 I had been told the name of the place to 
 which we were to fly. I was to direct my 
 pilot. At first we flew right ahead, then my 
 pilot turned to the right, then to the left, but 
 I had lost all sense of direction above our 
 own aerodrome. I had not the slightest 
 notion where I was! I began very cau- 
 tiously to look over the side at the country. 
 The men looked ridiculously small. The 
 houses seemed to come out of a child's toy 
 box. Everything seemed pretty. Cologne 
 was in the background. The cathedral 
 looked like a a little toy. It was a glorious 
 feeling to be so high above the earth, to be 
 master of the air. I didn't care a bit where 
 I was and I felt extremely sad when my 
 pilot thought it was time to go down again. 
 
 58 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 I should have liked best to start immedi- 
 ately on another flight. I have never had 
 any trouble in the air such as vertigo. The 
 celebrated American swings are to me dis- 
 gusting. One does not feel secure in them, 
 but in a flying machine one possesses a 
 feeling of complete security. One sits in 
 an aeroplane as in an easy chair. Vertigo is 
 impossible. No man exists who has been 
 turned giddy by flying. At the same time, 
 flying affects one's nerves. When one races 
 full speed through the air, and particularly 
 when one goes down again, when the aero- 
 plane suddenly dips, when the engine stops 
 running, and when the tremendous noise is 
 followed by an equally tremendous silence, 
 then I would frantically clutch the sides and 
 think that I was sure to fall to the ground. 
 However, everything happened in such a 
 matter-of-fact and natural way, and the 
 landing, when we again touched terra firma 
 was so simple, that I could not have such a 
 feeling as fear. I was full of enthusiasm 
 and should have liked to remain in an aero- 
 plane all day long. I counted the hours to 
 
 59 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 the time when we should start out again. 
 As an Observer with Mackdnsen 
 
 f~\N the 10th of June, 1915 I came to 
 ^"-^ Grossenhain. Thence I was to be sent 
 to the front. I was anxious to go forward 
 as quickly as possible. I feared that I might 
 come too late, that the world-war might be 
 over. I should have had to spend three 
 months to become a pilot. By the time the 
 three months had gone by, peace might have 
 been concluded. Therefore, it never occurred 
 to me to become a pilot. I imagined that, 
 owing to my training as a cavalryman, I 
 might do well as an observer. I was very 
 happy when, after a fortnight's flying experi- 
 ence, I was sent out, especially as I was 
 sent to the only spot where there was still 
 a chance of a war of movement. I was sent 
 to Russia. 
 
 Mackensen was advancing gloriously. He 
 had broken through the Russian position at 
 Gorlice and I joined his army when we were 
 taking Rawa Ruska. I spent a day at the 
 aviation base and then I was sent to the 
 
 60 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 celebrated 69th Squadron. Being quite a be- 
 ginner I felt very foolish. My pilot was a 
 big gun, First Lieutenant Zeumer. He is 
 now a cripple. Of the other men of the Sec- 
 tion, I am the only survivor. 
 
 Now came my most beautiful time. Life 
 in the Flying Corps is very much like life 
 in the cavalry. Every day, morning and 
 afternoon, I had to fly and to reconnoiter, 
 and I have brought back valuable informa- 
 tion many a time. 
 
 With Hoick in Russia. (Summer, 1Q15) 
 
 pvURING June, July and August, 1915, I 
 ^^ remained with the Flying Squadron 
 which participated in Mackensen's advance 
 from Gorlice to Brest-Litovsk. I had joined 
 it as quite a juvenile observer and had not 
 the slightest idea of anything. 
 
 As a cavalryman my business had con- 
 sisted in reconnoitering. So the Aeroplane 
 Service as an observer was in my line and 
 it amused me vastly to take part in the 
 gigantic reconnoitering flights which we un- 
 dertook nearly every day. 
 
 61 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 For an observer it is important to find a 
 pilot with a strong character. One fine day 
 we were told, "Count Hoick will join us." 
 Immediately I thought, "That is the man I 
 want." 
 
 Hoick made his appearance, not as one 
 would imagine, in a 60 h. p. Mercedes 
 or in a first-class sleeping car. He came on 
 foot. After traveling by railway for days 
 and days he had arrived in the vicinity of 
 Jaroslav. Here he got out of the train for 
 there was once more an unending stoppage. 
 He told his servant to travel on with the 
 luggage while he would go on foot. He 
 marched along and after an hour's walking 
 looked back, but the train did not follow 
 him. So he walked and walked and walked 
 without being overtaken by the train until, 
 after a thirty-mile walk, he arrived in Rawa 
 Ruska, his objective. Twenty-four hours 
 later his orderly appeared with the luggage. 
 His thirty-mile walk proved no difficulty to 
 that sportsman. His body was so well 
 trained that he did not feel the tramp he had 
 undertaken. 
 
 65 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Count Hoick was not only a sportsman on 
 land. Flying also was to him a sport which 
 gave him the greatest pleasure. He was 
 a pilot of rare talent and particularly, and 
 that is, after all, the principal thing. He tow- 
 ered head and shoulders above the enemy. 
 
 We went on many a beautiful reconnoiter- 
 ing flight — I do not know how far — into 
 Russia. Although Hoick was so young I 
 had never a feeling of insecurity with him. 
 On the contrary he was always a support to 
 me in critical moments. When I looked 
 around and saw his determined face I had 
 always twice as much courage as I had had 
 before. 
 
 My last flight with him nearly led to 
 trouble. We had not had definite orders to 
 fly. The glorious thing in the flying service 
 is that one feels that one is a perfectly free 
 man and one's own master as soon as one 
 is up in the air. 
 
 We had to change our flying base and we 
 were not quite certain in which meadow we 
 were to land. In order not to expose our 
 machine to too much risk in landing we flew 
 
 63 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 in the direction of Brest-Litovsk. The Rus- 
 sians were retiring everywhere. The whole 
 countryside was burning. It was a terribly 
 beautiful picture. We intended to ascertain 
 the direction of the enemy columns, and in 
 doing so flew over the burning town of 
 Wicznice. A gigantic smoke cloud, which 
 went up to about 6,000 feet, prevented us 
 continuing our flight because we flew at an 
 altitude of only 4,500 feet in order to see 
 better. For a moment Hoick reflected. I 
 asked him what he intended to do and ad- 
 vised him to fly around the smoke cloud 
 which would have involved a round-about 
 way of five minutes. Hoick did not intend to 
 do this. On the contrary. The greater the 
 danger was the more the thing attracted him. 
 Therefore straight through! I enjoyed it, 
 too, to be together with such a daring fel- 
 low. Our venturesomeness nearly cost us 
 dear. As soon as the tail-end of the machine 
 had disappeared in the smoke the aeroplane 
 began to reel. I could not see a thing for the 
 smoke made my eyes water. The air was 
 much warmer and beneath me I saw nothing 
 
 64 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 but a huge sea of fire. Suddenly the ma- 
 chine lost its balance and fell, turning round 
 and round. I managed to grasp a stay and 
 hung on to it. Otherwise I should have been 
 thrown out of the machine. The first thing 
 I did was to look at Hoick and immediately 
 I regained my courage for his face showed 
 an iron confidence. The only thought which 
 I had was: "It is stupid, after all, to die so 
 unnecessarily a hero's death." 
 
 Later on, I asked Hoick what had been 
 his thoughts at the moment. He told me he 
 had never experienced so unpleasant a feel- 
 ing. 
 
 We fell down to an altitude of 1500 feet 
 above the burning town. Either through the 
 skill of my pilot or by a Higher Will, per- 
 haps by both, we suddenly dropped out of 
 the smoke cloud. Our good Albatros found 
 itself again and once more flew straight 
 ahead as if nothing had happened. 
 
 We had now had enough of it and instead 
 of going to a new base intended to return 
 to our old quarter as quickly as possible. 
 After all, we were still above the Russians 
 
 6S 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 and only at an altitude of 1500 feet. Five 
 minutes later I heard Hoick, behind me, ex- 
 claiming: 'The motor is giving out." 
 
 I must add that Hoick had not as much 
 knowledge of motors as he had of horse- 
 flesh and I had not the slightest idea of 
 mechanics. The only thing which I knew 
 was that we should have to land among the 
 Russians if the motor went on strike. So 
 one peril had followed the other. 
 
 I convinced myself that the Russians be- 
 neath us were still marching with energy. 
 I could see them quite clearly from our low 
 altitude. Besides it was not necessary to 
 look, for the Russians shot at us with ma- 
 chine-guns with the utmost diligence. The 
 firing sounded like chestnuts roasting near 
 a fire. 
 
 Presently the motor stopped running alto- 
 gether, for it had been hit. So we went 
 lower and lower. We just managed to 
 glide over a forest and landed at last in an 
 abandoned artillery position which, the eve- 
 ning before, had still been occupied by Rus- 
 sians, as I had reported. 
 
 66 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 I told Hoick my impressions. We jumped 
 out of our box and tried to rush into the 
 forest nearby, where we might have de- 
 fended ourselves. I had with me a pistol 
 and six cartridges. Hoick had nothing. 
 
 When we had reached the wood we 
 stopped and I saw with my glasses that a 
 soldier was running towards our aeroplane. 
 I was horrified to see that he wore not a 
 spiked helmet but a cap. So I felt sure that 
 it was a Russian. When the man came 
 nearer Hoick shouted with joy, for he was 
 a Grenadier of the Prussian Guards. 
 
 Our troops had once more stormed the 
 position at the break of day and had broken 
 through into the enemy batteries. 
 
 On that occasion Hoick lost his little fa- 
 vorite, his doggie. He took the little animal 
 with him in every flight. The dog would lie 
 always quietly on Hoick's fur in the fusilage. 
 He was still with us when we were in the 
 forest. Soon after, when we had talked 
 with the Guardsman, German troops passed 
 us. They were the stafifs of the Guards and 
 Prince Eitel Friedrich with his Adjutants 
 
 67 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 and his Orderly Officers. The Prince sup- 
 plied us with horses so that we two cavalry- 
 men were sitting once more on oat-driven 
 motors. Unfortunately doggie was lost 
 while we were riding. Probably he followed 
 other troops by mistake. 
 
 Later in the evening we arrived in our 
 old flying base on a cart. The machine was 
 smashed. 
 
 Russia — Ostend {From the Two- 
 Seater to the T win-Engine d Fighter) 
 
 nPHE 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 
 on the twenty-first of August, 1915. There 
 I met an old acquaintance, friend Zeumer. 
 Besides I was attracted by the tempting 
 name ''Large Battle-plane."* 
 
 I had a very good time during this part 
 of my service. I saw little of the war but my 
 experiences were invaluable to me, for I 
 
 •The Grossfleugzeug, or "G" class of German aeroplane, later 
 given up as a flying machine owing to its slow speed and clumsiness 
 in manoeuvre and used in its later developments for night-bombing 
 only. 
 
 68 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 passed my apprenticeship as a battle-flier. 
 We flew a great deal, we had rarely a fight 
 in the air and we had no successes. We had 
 siezed a hotel on the Ostend shore, and 
 there we bathed every afternoon. Unfor- 
 tunately the only frequenters of the water- 
 ing-place were soldiers. Wrapped up in our 
 many-colored bathing gowns we sat on the 
 terraces of Ostend and drank our coffee in 
 the afternoon. 
 
 One fine day we were sitting as usual on 
 the shore drinking coffee. Suddenly we 
 heard bugles. We were told that an English 
 squadron was approaching. Of course we 
 did not allow ourselves to be alarmed and 
 to be disturbed, but continued drinking our 
 coffee. Suddenly somebody called out: 
 "There they are!" Indeed we could see on 
 the horizon, though not very distinctly, some 
 smoking chimneys and later on could make 
 out ships. Immediately we fetched our tele- 
 scopes and observed them. There was in- 
 deed quite an imposing number of vessels. 
 It was not quite clear to us what they in- 
 tended to do, but soon we were to know 
 
 69 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 better. We went up to the roof whence we 
 could see more. Suddenly we heard a whis- 
 tling in the air; then there came a big bang 
 and a shell hit that part of the beach where 
 a little before we had been bathing. I have 
 never rushed as rapidly into the hero's 
 cellar as I did at that moment. The EngHsh 
 squadron shot perhaps three or four times 
 at us and then it began bombarding the 
 harbor and railway station. Of course they 
 hit nothing but they gave a terrible fright 
 to the Belgians. One shell fell right in the 
 beautiful Palace Hotel on the shore. That 
 was the only damage that was done. Hap- 
 pily they destroyed only English capital, for 
 it belonged to Englishmen. 
 
 In the evening we flew again with energy. 
 On one of our flights we had gone very far 
 across the sea with our battle-plane. It had 
 two motors and we were experimenting with 
 a new steering gear which, we were told, 
 would nable us to fly in a straight line with 
 only Ingle motor working.* When we 
 imagi- ; the confusion which followed. The 
 
 *This apparently refers to an auto-lock arrangement on the 
 rudder-bar to save the pilot from having the rudder against the 
 engine all the time. 
 
 70 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 were fairly far out I saw beneath us, not 
 on the water but below the surface, a ship. 
 It is a funny thing. If the sea is quiet, one 
 can look down from above to the bottom of 
 the sea. Of course it is not possible where 
 the sea is twenty-five miles deep but one can 
 see clearly through several hundred yards of 
 water. I had not made a mistake in believ- 
 ing that the ship was traveling not on the 
 surface but below the surface. Yet it seemed 
 at first that it was traveling above water. 
 I drew Zeumer's attention to my discovery 
 and we went lower in order to see more 
 clearly. I am too little of a naval expert to 
 say what it was but it was clear to me that 
 it was bound to be a submarine. But of 
 what nationality? That is a difificult ques- 
 tion which in my opinion can be solved only 
 by a naval expert, and not always by him. 
 One can scarcely distinguish colors under 
 water and there is no flag. Besides a 
 submarine does not carry such things. We 
 had with us a couple of bombs and I debated 
 with myself whether I should throw them 
 or not. The submarine had not seen us for 
 
 71 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 it was partly submerged. We might have 
 flown above it without danger and we might 
 have waited until we found it necessary to 
 come to the surface for air. Then we could 
 have dropped our eggs. Herein lies, no 
 doubt, a very critical point for our sister 
 arm. 
 
 When we had fooled around the appari- 
 tion beneath us for quite a while I sud- 
 denly noticed that the water was gradually 
 disappearing from our cooling apparatus. 
 I did not like that and I drew my 
 colleague's attention to the fact. He pulled 
 a long face and hastened to get home. 
 However, we were approximately twelve 
 miles from the shore and they had to be 
 flown over. The motor began running more 
 slowly and I was quietly preparing myself 
 for a sudden cold immersion. But lo! 
 and behold ! we got through ! Our giant 
 apple-barge* barged along with a single 
 motor and the new steering apparatus and 
 we reached the shore and managed to land 
 
 *A literal translation of the German slang, analagous more or 
 less to the British term box-kite. 
 
 ^2 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 in the harbor without any special difficulty. 
 It is a good thing to be lucky. Had we 
 not tried the new steering apparatus on that 
 day there would not have been any hope 
 for us. We should certainly have been 
 drowned. 
 
 A Drop of Blood for the Fatherland 
 
 T HAVE never been really wounded. At 
 ^ the critical moment I have probably 
 bent my head or pulled in my, chest. Often 
 I have been surprised that they did not hit 
 me. Once a bullet went through both my 
 furlined boots. Another time a bullet went 
 through my muffler. Another time one 
 went along my arm through the fur and 
 the leather jacket; biit I have never been 
 touched. 
 
 One fine day we started with our large 
 battle-plane in order to delight the English 
 with our bombs. We reached our object. 
 The first bomb fell. It is very interesting 
 to ascertain the effect of a bomb. At least 
 one always likes to see it exploding. Unfor- 
 tunately my large battle-plane, which was 
 
 73 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 well qualified for carrying bombs, had a 
 stupid peculiarity which prevented me from 
 seeing the effect of a bomb-throw, for im- 
 mediately after the throw the machine came 
 between my eye and the object and covered 
 it completely with its planes. This always 
 made me wild because one does not like to 
 be deprived of one's amusement. If you 
 hear a bang down below and see the delight- 
 ful grayish-whitish cloud of the explosion 
 in the neighborhood of the object aimed at, 
 you are always very pleased. Therefore I 
 waved to friend Zeumer that he should bend 
 a little to the side. While waving to him 
 I forgot that the infamous object on which I 
 was traveling, my apple-barge, had two pro- 
 pellers which turned to the right and left 
 of my observer-seat.* I meant to show him 
 where approximately the bomb had hit and 
 bang! my finger was caught! I was some- 
 what surprised when I discovered that my 
 
 •From this disposition of the air-screws, and from the date of 
 the occurrence, one assumes that this was one of the very earliest 
 twin-engined Gothas, of the type which the R. F. C. nicknamed 
 "Wong-wong," because of the curious noise made by the engines or 
 air-screws when they ran out of step. 
 
 74 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 little finger had been damaged. Zeumer did 
 not notice anything. 
 
 Having been hit on the hand I did not care 
 to throw any more bombs. I quickly got rid 
 of the lot and we hurried home. My love 
 for the large battle-plane, which after all 
 had not been very great, suffered seriously 
 in consequence of my experience. I had to 
 sit quiet for seven days and was debarred 
 from flying. Only my beauty was slightly 
 damaged, but after all, I can say with pride 
 that I also have been wounded in the war. 
 
 My First Fight in the 
 Air. (ist Sept., ipi^) 
 
 T^ EUMER and I were very anxious to 
 have a fight in the air. Of course we 
 flew our large battle-plane. The title of 
 our barge alone gave us so much courage 
 that we thought it impossible for any oppo- 
 nent to escape us. 
 
 We flew every day from five to six hours 
 without ever seeing an Englishman. I be- 
 came quite discouraged, but one fine morn- 
 ing we asfain went out to hunt. Suddenly 
 
 75 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 I discovered a Farman aeroplane which was 
 reconnoitering without taking notice of us. 
 My heart beat furiously when Zeumer flew 
 towards it. I was curious to see what was 
 going to happen. I had never witnessed a 
 fight in the air and had about as vague an 
 idea of it as it was possible to have. 
 
 Before I knew what was happening both 
 the Englishman and I rushed by one another. 
 I had fired four shots at most while the 
 Englishman was suddenly in our rear firing 
 into us like anything. I must say I never 
 had any sense of danger because I had no 
 idea how the final result of such a fight 
 would come about. We turned and turned 
 around one another until at last, to our 
 great surprise the Englishman turned away 
 from us and flew ofif. I was greatly disap- 
 pointed and so was my pilot. 
 
 Both of us were in very bad spirits when 
 we reached home. He reproached me for 
 having shot badly and I reproached him for 
 not having enabled me to shoot well. In I 
 short our aeroplanic relations, which previ- 
 ously had been faultless, sufifered severelv. 
 
 76 
 
 i 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 We looked at our machine and discovered 
 that it had received quite a respectable num- 
 ber of hits. 
 
 On the same day we went on the chase 
 for a second time but again we had no suc- 
 cess. I felt ver}'^ sad. I had imagined that 
 things would be very different in a battle 
 squadron. I had always believed that one 
 shot would cause the enemy to fall, but soon 
 I became convinced that a flying machine 
 can stand a great deal of punishment. Fi- 
 nally I felt assured that I should never bring 
 down a hostile aeroplane, however much 
 shooting I did. 
 
 We did not lack courage. Zeumer was a 
 wonderful flier and I was quite a good shot. 
 We stood before a riddle. We were not the 
 only ones to be puzzled. Many are nowadays 
 in the same position in which we were then. 
 After all the flying business must really be 
 thoroughly understood. 
 
 In the Champagne Battle 
 t^^UR pleasant days at Ostend were soon 
 ^^ past, for the Champagne battle began 
 and we flew to the front in order to take 
 
 77 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 part in it in our large battle-plane. Soon 
 we discovered that our packing-case* was a 
 capacious aeroplane but that it could never 
 be turned into a good battle-plane. 
 
 I flew once with Osteroth who had a 
 smaller flier than the apple-barge. About 
 three miles behind the front we encountered 
 a Farman Two-seater. He allowed us to 
 approach him and for the first time in my 
 life I saw an aerial opponent from quite 
 close by. Osteroth flew with great skill 
 side by side with the enemy so that I could 
 easily fire at him. Our opponent probably 
 did not notice us, for only when I had 
 trouble with my gun did he begin to shoot 
 at us. When I had exhausted my supply 
 of one hundred bullets I thought I could 
 not trust my eyes when I suddenly 
 noticed that my opponent was going] 
 down in curious spirals. I followed himi 
 with my eyes and tapped Osteroth'sj 
 head to draw his attention. Our oppo- 
 nent fell and fell and dropped at last into 
 
 •Still another example of slang:, indicative of the clumsinest of 
 the Grossfleugzeug in the air. 
 
 78 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 a large crater. There he was, his machine 
 standing on its head, the tail pointing to- 
 wards the sky. According to the map he 
 had fallen three miles behind the front. We 
 had therefore brought him down on enemy 
 ground.* Otherwise I should have one more 
 victory to my credit. I was very proud of 
 my success. After all, the chief thing is 
 to bring a fellow down. It does not matter 
 at all whether one is credited for it or not. 
 
 How I Met Boelcke 
 PRIEND Zeumer got a Fokker Mono- 
 plane. Therefore I had to sail through 
 the world alone. The Champagne battle 
 was raging. The French flying men were 
 coming to the fore. We were to be com- 
 bined in a battle squadron and took train 
 on the first of October, 1915. 
 
 In the dining car, at the table next to me, 
 was sitting a young and insignificant-looking 
 lieutenant. There was no reason to take 
 any note of him except for the fact that 
 
 •It was also the British custom to ignore — as part of the score — 
 all machines brought down in enemy territory. Later it became 
 permissible to count such victims if their destruction was verified by 
 independent witnesses. 
 
 79 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 he was the only man who had succeeded in 
 shooting down a hostile flying man not once 
 but four times. His name had been men- 
 tioned in the dispatches. I thought a great 
 deal of him because of his experience. Al- 
 though I had taken the greatest trouble, I 
 had not brought an enemy down up to that 
 time. At least I had not been credited with 
 a success. 
 
 I would have liked so much to find out 
 how Lieutenant Boelcke managed his busi- 
 ness. So I asked him: ''Tell me, how do you 
 manage it?" He seemed very amused and 
 laughed, although I had asked him quite 
 seriously. Then he replied: "Well it is quite 
 simple. I fly close to my man, aim well and 
 then of course he falls down." I shook my 
 head and told him that I did the same thing 
 but my opponents unfortunately did not 
 come down. The difference between him 
 and me was that he flew a Fokker and I a 
 large battle-plane. 
 
 I took great trouble to get more closely 
 acquainted with that nice modest fellow 
 whom I badly wanted to teach me his busi- 
 
 80 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 ness. We often played cards together, went 
 for walks and I asked him questions. At 
 last I formed a resolution that Lalso would 
 learn to fly a Fokker. Perhaps then my 
 chances would improve. 
 
 My whole aim and ambition became now 
 concentrated upon learning how to manipu- 
 late the sticks myself. Hitherto I had been 
 nothing but an observer. Happily I soon 
 found an opportunity to learn piloting on an 
 old machine in the Champagne. I threw 
 myself into the work with body and soul and 
 after twenty-five training flights I stood 
 before the examination in flying alone. 
 
 8[ 
 
V 
 
 My First Solo-Flight (10th October, 1915)' 
 
 np HERE are some moments in one's life 
 *- which tickle one's nerves particularly 
 and the first solo-flight is among them. 
 
 One fine evening my teacher, Zeumer, told 
 me: "Now go and fly by yourself." I must 
 say I felt like replying "I am afraid." But 
 this is a word which should never be used 
 by a man who defends his country. There- 
 fore, whether I liked it or not, I had to make 
 the best of it and get into my machine. 
 
 Zeumer explained to me once more every 
 movement in theory. I Scarcely listened to 
 his explanations for I was firmly convinced 
 that I should forget half of what he was 
 telling me. 
 
 I started the machine. The aeroplane 
 went at the prescribed speed and I could not 
 
 82 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 help noticing that I was actually flying. 
 After all I did not feel timorous but rather 
 elated. I did not care for anything. I 
 should not have been frightened no matter 
 what happened. With contempt of death I 
 made a large curve to the left, stopped the 
 machine near a tree, exactly where I had 
 been ordered to, and looked forward to see 
 what would happen. Now came the most 
 difficult thing, the landing. I remembered 
 exactly what movements I had to make. I 
 acted mechanically and the machine moved 
 quite differently from what I had expected. 
 I lost my balance, made some wrong move- 
 ments, stood on my head and I succeeded in 
 converting my aeroplane into a battered 
 school 'bus. I was very sad, looked at the 
 damage which I had done to the machine, 
 which after all was not very great, and had 
 to suffer from other people's jokes. 
 
 Two days later I went with passion at 
 the flying and suddenly I could handle the 
 apparatus. 
 
 A fortnight later I had to take my first 
 examination. Herr von T was my 
 
 83 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 examiner. I described the figure eight sev- 
 eral times, exactly as I had been told to do, 
 landed several times with success, in accord- 
 ance with orders received and felt very proud 
 of my achievements. However, to my great 
 surprise I was told that I had not passed. 
 There was nothing to be done but to try 
 once more to pass the initial examination. 
 
 My Training Time at Doherits 
 T N order to pass my examinations I had 
 "*■ to go to Berlin. I made use of the oppor- 
 tunity to go to Berlin as observer in a giant 
 plane.* I was ordered to go by aeroplane to 
 Doberitz near Berlin on the fifteenth of No- 
 vember, 1915. In the beginning I took a 
 great interest in the giant-plane. But 
 funnily enough the gigantic machine made 
 it clear to me that only the smallest aero- 
 plane would be of any use for me in battle. 
 A big aerial barge is too clumsy for fighting. 
 Agility is needed and, after all, fighting is 
 my business. 
 
 •Possibly a very early example of the Riesenfleugzeug type, 
 which is the next biggest thing to the Grossfleugzeug type, which 
 includes the Gothas, A. E. G.'s, Friedrichshafens, and other of the 
 twin-engined types. 
 
 84 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 The difference between a large battle- 
 plane and a giant-plane is that a giant-plane 
 is considerably larger than a large battle- 
 plane and that it is more suitable for use as 
 a bomb-carrier than as a fighter. 
 
 I went through my examinations in Do- 
 beritz together with a dear fellow, First 
 Lieutenant von Lyncker. We got on very 
 well with one another, had the same inclina- 
 tions and the same ideas as to our future 
 activity. Our aim was to fly Fokkers and 
 to be included in a battle squadron on the 
 Western front. A year later we succeeded 
 in working together for a short time. A 
 deadly bullet hit my dear friend when bring- 
 ing down his third aeroplane. 
 
 We passed many merry hours in Doberitz. 
 One of the things which we had to do was 
 to land in strange quarters. I used the op- 
 portunity to combine the necessary with the 
 agreeable. My favorable landing place out- 
 side of our aerodrome was the Buchow 
 Estate where I was well known. I was 
 there invited to shoot wild pigs. The matter 
 could be combined only with difficulty with 
 
 85 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 the service, for on fine evenings I v^ished 
 both to fly and to shoot pigs. So I arranged 
 for a place of landing in the neighborhood of 
 Buchow v^hence I could easily reach my 
 friends. 
 
 I took w^ith me a second pilot, who served 
 as an observer, and sent him back in the 
 evening. During the night I shot pigs and 
 on the next morning was fetched by my 
 pilot. 
 
 If I had not been fetched with the aero- 
 plane I should have been in a hole for I 
 should have had to march on foot a dis- 
 tance of about six miles. So I required a 
 man who would fetch me in any weather. It 
 is not easy to find a man who will fetch you 
 under any circumstances. 
 
 Once, when I had passed the night trying 
 to shoot pigs, a tremendous snowfall set in. 
 One could not see fifty yards ahead. My 
 pilot was to fetch me at eig'ht sharp. I 
 hoped that for once he would not come. But 
 suddenly I heard a humming noise — one 
 could not see a thing — and five minutes later 
 my beloved bird was squatting before me on 
 
 86 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 the ground. Unfortunately some of his 
 bones had got bent. 
 
 / Become a Pilot 
 
 (~^^ Christmas Day, 1915, I passed my 
 ^-^ third examination. In connection with 
 it I flew to Schwerin, where the Fokker 
 works are situated, and had a look at them. 
 As observer I took with me my mechanic, 
 and from Schwerin I flew with him to Bres- 
 lau, from Breslau to Schweidnitz, from 
 thence to Luben and then returned to Berlin. 
 During my tour I landed in lots of different 
 places in between, visiting relatives and 
 friends. Being a trained observer, I did not 
 find it difficult to find my way. 
 
 In March, 1916, I joined the Second Battle 
 Squadron before Verdun and learned air- 
 fighting as a pilot. I learned how to handle 
 a fighting aeroplane. I flew then a two- 
 seater. 
 
 In the official communique of the twenty- 
 sixth of April, 1916, I am referred to for the 
 first time, although my name is not men- 
 tioned. Only my deeds appear in it. I had 
 
 ^7 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 had built into my machine a machine gun, 
 which I had arranged very much in the way 
 in which it is done in the Nieuport ma- 
 chines.* I was very proud of my idea. 
 People laughed at the way I had fitted it up 
 because the whole thing looked very primi- 
 tive. Of course I swore by my new arrange- 
 ment and very soon I had an opportunity of 
 ascertaining its practical value. 
 
 I encountered a hostile Nieuport machine 
 which was apparently guided by a man who 
 also was a beginner, for he acted extremely 
 foolishly. When I flew towards him he ran 
 away. Apparently he had trouble with his 
 gun. I had no idea of fighting him but 
 thought : "What will happen if I now start 
 shooting?" I flew after him, approached 
 him as closely as possible and then began 
 firing a short series of well-aimed shots with 
 rriy machine gun. The Nieuport reared up 
 in the air and turned over and over. 
 
 •It is not clear whether this refers to a gun pointing upwards, 
 as guns at that time were commonly fitted on the upper plane of the 
 Nieuport, or whether the gun fired through the air-screw. Prob- 
 ably the latter fitting is meant. Later on one reads that he was 
 then flying an Albatros, so it may have been a top gun. 
 
 88 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 At first both my observer and I believed 
 that this was one of the numerous tricks 
 which French fliers habitually indulge in. 
 However, his tricks did not cease. Turning 
 over and over, the machine went lower and 
 lower. At last my observer patted me on 
 the head and called out to me : "I congratu- 
 late you. He is falling." As a matter of 
 fact he fell into a forest behind Fort Douau- 
 mont and disappeared among the trees. It 
 became clear to me that I had shot him 
 down, but on the other side of the Front. 
 I flew home and reported merely: "I had an 
 aerial fight and have shot down a Nieuport." 
 The next day I read of my action in the offi- 
 cial communique. Of course I was very 
 proud of my success, but that Nieuport does 
 not figure among the fifty-two aeroplanes 
 which I have brought down.* 
 
 The communique of the 26th of April 
 stated: "Two hostile flying machines have 
 been shot down by aerial fighting above 
 Fleury, south and west of Douaumont." 
 
 *Note. — This book was written after Captain von Richthofen 
 had brought down fifty-two aeroplanes. At the time of his death 
 he was officially credited with eighty victories. 
 
 89 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Holck^s Death. {30th of April, 1916) 
 A S a young pilot I once flew over Fort 
 ^^^ Douaumont at a moment when it was 
 exposed to a violent drum-fire. I noticed 
 that a German Fokker was attacking three 
 Caudron machines. It was my misfortune 
 that a strong west wind was blowing. That 
 was not favorable to me. The Fokker was 
 driven over the town of Verdun in the course 
 of the fight. I drew the attention of my 
 observer to the struggle. He thought that 
 the German fighting man must be a very 
 smart fellow. We wondered whether it 
 could be Boelcke and intended to inquire 
 when we came down. Suddenly, I saw to 
 my horror that the German machine, which 
 previously had attacked, had fallen back 
 upon the defensive. The strength of the 
 French fighting men had been increased to 
 at least ten and their combined assaults 
 forced the German machine to go lower and 
 lower. 
 
 I could not fly to the German's aid. I was 
 too far away from the battle. Besides, my 
 heavy machine could not overcome the 
 
 90 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 strong wind against me. The Fokker fought 
 with despair. His opponents had rushed him 
 down to an altitude of only about eighteen 
 hundred feet. Suddenly, he was once more 
 attacked by his opponents and he disap- 
 peared, plunging into a small cloud. I 
 breathed more easily, for in my opinion the 
 cloud had saved him. 
 
 When I arrived at the aerodrome, I re- 
 ported what I had seen and was told that 
 the Fokker man was Count Hoick, my old 
 comrade in the Eastern Theater of war. 
 
 Count Hoick had dropped straight down, 
 shot through the head. His death deeply 
 affected me for he was my model. I tried to 
 imitate his energy and he was a man among 
 men also as a character. 
 
 91 
 
VI 
 
 / Fly In a Thunderstorm 
 
 /'"^UR activity before Verdun was dis- 
 ^-^ turbed in the summer of 1916 by fre- 
 quent thunderstorms. Nothing is more disa- 
 greeable for flying men than to have to go 
 through a thunderstorm. In the Battle of 
 the Somme a whole English flying squadron 
 came down behind our lines and became 
 prisoners of war because they had been sur- 
 prised by a thunderstorm.* 
 
 I had never yet made an attempt to get 
 through thunder clouds but I could not sup- 
 press my desire to make the experiment. 
 During the whole day thunder was in the 
 
 *Probably this means a patrol of one or two flights — of four 
 machines each. One does not recall a whole squadron disappear- 
 ing at once, though one or two squadrons had their whole personnel 
 renewed one or two at a time in the course of a month or so. 
 
 92 
 
THE RED BATTLE- FLYER 
 
 air. From my base at Mont I had flown over 
 to the fortress of Metz, nearby, in order to 
 look after various things. During my return 
 journey I had an adventure. 
 
 I was at the aerodrome of Metz and in- 
 tended to return to my own quarters. When 
 I pulled my machine out of the hangar the 
 first signs of an approaching thunderstorm 
 became noticeable. Clouds which looked 
 like a gigantic pitch-black wall approached 
 from the north. Old experienced pilots 
 urged me not to fly. However, I had prom- 
 ised to return and I should have considered 
 myself a coward if I had failed to come back 
 because of a silly thunderstorm. Therefore 
 I meant to try. 
 
 When I started the rain began falling. I 
 had to throw away my goggles, otherwise 
 I should not have seen anything. The 
 trouble was that I had to travel over the 
 mountains of the Moselle where the thun- 
 derstorm was just raging. I said to myself 
 that probably I should be lucky and get 
 through and rapidly approached the black 
 cloud which reached down to the earth, I 
 
 93 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 flew at the lowest possible altitude. I was 
 compelled absolutely to leap over houses and 
 trees with my machine. Very soon I knew 
 no longer where I was. The gale seized my 
 machine as if it were a piece of paper and 
 drove it along. My heart sank within me. 
 I could not land among the hills. I was com- 
 pelled to go on. 
 
 I was surrounded by an inky blackness. 
 Beneath me the trees bent down in the gale. 
 Suddenly I saw right in front of me a 
 wooded height. I could not avoid it. My 
 Albatros managed to take it. I was able 
 to fly only in a straight line. Therefore I 
 had to take every obstacle that I encoun- 
 tered. My flight became a jumping compe- 
 tition purely and simply. I had to jump over 
 trees, villages, spires and steeples, for I had 
 to keep within a few yards of the ground, 
 otherwise I should have seen nothing at all. 
 The lightning was playing around me. At 
 that time I did not yet know that lightning 
 cannot touch flying machines. I felt cer- 
 tain of my death for it seemed to me inevi- 
 table that the gale would throw me at any 
 
 94 
 
 j 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 moment into a village or a forest. Had the 
 motor stopped working I should have been 
 done for. 
 
 Suddenly I saw that on the horizon the 
 darkness had become less thick. Over there 
 the thunderstorm had passed. I would be 
 saved if I were able to get so far. Concen- 
 trating all my energy I steered towards the 
 light. 
 
 Suddenl}^ I got out of the thunder-cloud. 
 The rain was still falling in torrents. Still, 
 I felt saved. 
 
 In pouring rain I landed at my aero- 
 drome. Everyone was waiting for me, for 
 Metz had reported my start and had told 
 them that I had been swallowed up by a 
 thunder cloud. 
 
 I shall never again fly through a thunder- 
 storm unless the Fatherland should demand 
 this. 
 
 Now, when I look back, I realize that it 
 was all very beautiful. Nothwithstanding 
 the danger during my flight, I experienced 
 glorious moments which I would not care to 
 have missed. 
 
 95 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 My First Time In a Fokker 
 CROM the beginning of my career as a 
 ^ pilot I had only a single ambition, the am- 
 bition to fly in a single-seater battle-plane. 
 After worrying my commander for a long 
 time I at last obtained permission to mount 
 a Fokker. The revolving motor w^as a nov- 
 elty to me. Besides, it w^as a strange feeling 
 to be quite alone during the flight. 
 
 The Fokker belonged jointly to a friend of 
 mine who has died long ago and to myself. 
 I flew in the morning and he in the after- 
 noon. Both he and I were afraid that the 
 other fellow would smash the box. On the 
 second day we flew towards the enemy. 
 When I flew in the morning no Frenchman 
 was to be seen. In the afternoon it was his 
 turn. He started but did not return. There 
 was no news from him. 
 
 Late in the evening the infantry reported 
 an aerial battle between a Nieuport and a 
 German Fokker, in the course of which the 
 German machine had apparently landed at 
 the Mort Homme. Evidently the occupant 
 was friend Reimann for all the other flying 
 
 96 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 men had returned. We regretted the fate 
 of our brave comrade. Suddenly, in the 
 middle of the night, we heard over the tele- 
 phone that a German flying officer had made 
 an unexpected appearance in the front 
 trenches at the Mort Homme. It appeared 
 that this was Reimann. His motor had been 
 smashed by a shot. He had been forced 
 to land. Ag he was not able to reach our 
 own lines he had come to the ground in 
 No Man's Land. He had rapidly set fire to 
 the machine and had then quickly hidden 
 himself in a mine crater. During the night 
 he had slunk into our trenches. Thus ended 
 our joint enterprise with a Fokker. 
 
 A few days later I was given another 
 Fokker. This time I felt under a moral obli- 
 gation to attend to its destruction myself. I 
 was flying for the third time. When start- 
 ing, the motor suddenly stopped working. I 
 had to land right away in a field and in a 
 moment the beautiful machine was con- 
 verted into a mass of scrap metal. It was 
 a miracle that I was not hurt. 
 
 97 
 
VII 
 
 Bombing In Russia 
 
 T N June we were suddenly ordered to 
 entrain. No one knew where we were 
 going, but we had an idea and we were not 
 over much surprised when our Commander 
 told us that we were going to Russia. We 
 had traveled through the whole of Germany 
 with our perambulating hotel which con- 
 sisted of dining and sleeping cars, and 
 arrived at last at Kovel. There we remained 
 in our railway cars. There are many advan- 
 tages in dwelling in a train. One is always 
 ready to travel on and need not change one's 
 quarters.* 
 
 In the heat of the Russian summer a sleep- 
 ing car is the most horrible instrument of 
 martyrdom imaginable. Therefore, I agreed 
 with some friends of mine, Gerstenberg and 
 
 *This is the first reference to the regular "Traveling Circus" 
 idea, in which the whole squadron works as a self-contained unit, 
 with a special train to move its material, stores, spares, and me- 
 chanics, from place to place, and also provides living accommoda- 
 tions for the pilots. 
 
 98 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Scheele, to take quarters in the forest near 
 by. We erected a tent and lived like gypsies. 
 We had a lovely time. 
 
 In Russia our battle squadron did a great 
 deal of bomb throv^ing. Our occupation 
 consisted of annoying the Russians. We 
 dropped our eggs on their finest railway es- 
 tablishments. One day our v^hole squadron 
 went out to bomb a very important railway 
 station. The place was called Manjewicze 
 and was situated about twenty miles behind 
 the Front. That was not very far. The Rus- 
 sians had planned an attack and the station 
 was absolutely crammed with colossal 
 trains. Trains stood close to one another. 
 Miles of rails were covered with them. One 
 could easily see that from above. There 
 was an object for bombing that was worth 
 while. 
 
 One can become enthusiastic over any- 
 thing. For a time I was delighted with bomb 
 throwing. It gave me a tremendous pleas- 
 ure to bomb those fellows from above. Fre- 
 quently I took part in two expeditions on a 
 single day. 
 
 99 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 On the day mentioned our object was 
 Manjewicze. Everything was ready. The 
 aeroplanes were ready to start. Every pilot 
 tried his motor, for it is a painful thing to 
 be forced to land against one's will on the 
 wrong side of the Front line, especially in 
 Russia. The Russians hated the flyers. If 
 they caught a flying man they would cer- 
 tainly kill him. That is the only risk one 
 ran in Russia for the Russians had no avi- 
 ators, or practically none. If a Russian flying 
 man turned up he was sure to have bad luck 
 and would be shot down. The anti-aircraft 
 guns used by Russia were sometimes quite 
 good, but they were too few in number. 
 Compared with flying in the West, flying in 
 the East is absolutely a holiday. 
 
 The aeroplanes rolled heavily to the start- 
 ing point. They carried bombs to the very 
 limit of their capacity. Sometimes I dragged 
 three hundred pounds of bombs with a nor- 
 mal C-machine.* Besides, I had with me a 
 very heavy observer who apparently had 
 
 *The German C-type machines are the two-seater reconnaisance 
 types. The D-type are the single-seater fighters or "chaser" ma- 
 chines. The G-type are the big threeseater bombers. 
 
 100 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 not suffered in any way from the food scarc- 
 ity.* I had also with me a couple of machine 
 guns. I was never able to make proper use 
 of them in Russia. It is a pity that my col- 
 lection of trophies contains not a single 
 Russian. 
 
 Flying with a heavy machine which is 
 carrying a great dead weight is no fun, espe- 
 cially during the mid-day summer heat in 
 Russia. The barges sway in a very disa- 
 greeable manner. Of course, heavily laden 
 though they are, they do not fall down. The 
 150 h. p. motors prevent it.** At the same 
 time it is no pleasant sensation to carry such 
 a large quantity of explosives and benzine. 
 
 At last we get into a quiet atmosphere. 
 Now comes the enjoyment of bombing. It is 
 splendid to be able to fly in a straight line 
 
 *It is interesting to find a German joking about food scarcity 
 in 1916, exactly as people in England joke about it in 1918. One 
 is able thus to form some idea of the comparative states of the 
 two countries, and to judge how Germany would have fared if the 
 British blockage had been rigidly enforced at the beginning of 
 the war. 
 
 **It was ISO horsepower in 1916. By the beginning of 1918 all 
 modern German C-type machines had 260 h.p., and by April, 1918, 
 German biplanes with 500 h.p. in one engine were beginning to 
 appear. In consequence the extreme height (or "ceiling") of a 
 C-type machine had risen from 12,000 feet to 20,000 feet. 
 
 lOI 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 and to have a definite object and definite 
 orders. After having thrown one's bombs 
 one has the feeling that he has achieved 
 something, while frequently, after searching 
 for an enemy to give battle to, one comes 
 home with a sense of failure at not having 
 brought a hostile machine to the ground. 
 Then a man is apt to say to himself, "You 
 have acted stupidly." 
 
 It gave me a good deal of pleasure to 
 throw bombs. After a while my observer 
 learned how to fly perpendicularly over the 
 objects to be bombed and to make use of the 
 right moment for laying his egg with the 
 assistance of his aiming telescope. 
 
 The run to Manjewicze is very pleasant 
 and I have made it repeatedly. We passed 
 over gigantic forests which were probably 
 inhabited by elks and lynxes. But the vil- 
 lages looked miserable. The only substan- 
 tial village in the whole neighborhood was 
 Manjewicze. It was surrounded by innu- 
 merable tents, and countless barracks had 
 been run up near the railway station. We 
 could not make out the Red Cross. 
 
 102 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 ^ Another flying squadron had visited the 
 place before us. That could be told by the 
 smoking houses and barracks. They had not 
 done badly. The exit of the station had obvi- 
 ously been blocked by a lucky hit. The 
 engine was still steaming. The engine driver 
 had probably dived into a shelter. On the 
 other side of the station an engine was just 
 coming out. Of course I felt tempted to 
 hit it. We flew towards the engine and 
 dropped a bomb a few hundred yards 
 in front of it. We had the desired result. 
 The engine stopped. We turned and con- 
 tinued throwing bomb after bomb on the 
 station, carefully taking aim through our 
 aiming telescope. We had plenty of time 
 for nobody interfered with us. It is true 
 that an enemy aerodrome was in the neigh- 
 borhood but there was no trace of hostile 
 pilots. A few anti-aircraft guns were busy, 
 but they shot not in our direction but in an- 
 other one. We reserved a bomb hoping to 
 make particularly good use of it on our way 
 home. 
 
 Suddenly we noticed an enemy flying ma- 
 
 103 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 chine starting from its hangar. The ques- 
 tion was whether it would attack us. I did 
 not beHeve in an attack. It was more likely 
 that the flying man was seeking security in 
 the air, for when bombing machines are 
 about, the air is the safest place. 
 
 We went home by roundabout ways and 
 looked for camps. It was particularly amus- 
 ing to pepper the gentlemen down below 
 with machine guns. Half savage tribes from 
 Asia are even more startled when fired at 
 from above than are cultured Englishmen. 
 It is particularly interesting to shoot at hos- 
 tile cavalry. An aerial attack upsets them 
 completely. Suddenly the lot of them rush 
 away in all directions of the compass. I 
 should not like to be the Commander of a 
 Squadron of Cossacks which has been fired 
 at with machine guns from aeroplanes.* 
 
 •Attacks on troops on roads by low-flying aeroplanes were not 
 regularly organized acts of war in those days, though such attacks 
 had been made by R. N. A. S. pilots in Belgium in 1914. It is 
 curious that despite the observed effects of the R. N. A. S. attacks, 
 and the experiences of such men as von Richthofen, neither the 
 British nor the German aeronautical authorities ever took the 
 trouble to devote attention to this new method of war. The racial 
 similarity of the two belligerents is marked in this as in other 
 matters. 
 
 104 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 By and by we could recognize the German 
 lines. We had to dispose of our last bomb 
 and we resolved to make a present of it to 
 a Russian observation balloon, to the only 
 observation balloon they possessed. We 
 could quite comfortably descend to within 
 a few hundred yards of the ground in order 
 to attack it. At first the Russians began to 
 haul it in very rapidly. When the bomb had 
 been dropped the hauling stopped. I did not 
 believe that I had hit it. I rather imagined 
 that the Russians had left their chief in the 
 air and had run away. At last we reached 
 our front and our trenches and were sur- 
 prised to find when we got home that we had 
 been shot at from below. At least one of the 
 planes had a hole in it. 
 
 Another time and in the same neighbor- 
 hood we were ordered to meet an attack of 
 the Russians who intended to cross the river 
 Stokhod. We came to the danger spot laden 
 with bombs and carrying a large number of 
 cartridges for our machine guns. On arrival 
 at the Stokhod, we were surprised to see 
 that hostile cavalry was already crossing. 
 
 105 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 They were passing over a single bridge. Im- 
 mediately it was clear to us that one might 
 do a tremendous lot of harm to the enemy 
 by hitting the bridge. 
 
 Dense masses of men were crossing. We 
 went as low as possible and could clearly see 
 the hostile cavalry crossing by way of the 
 bridge with great rapidity. The first 
 bomb fell near the bridge. The second 
 and third followed immediately. They 
 created a tremendous disorder. The bridge 
 had not been hit. Nevertheless traffic 
 across it had completely ceased. Men 
 and animals were rushing away in all 
 directions. We had thrown only three 
 bombs but the success had been ex- 
 cellent. Besides, a whole squadron of aero- 
 planes was following us. Lastly, we could 
 do other things. My observer fired ener- 
 getically into the crowd down below with 
 his machine gun and we enjoyed it tremend- 
 ously. Of course, I cannot say what real 
 success we had. The Russians have not 
 told us. Still I imagined that I alone had 
 caused the Russian attack to fail. Perhaps 
 
 io6 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 the official account of the Russian War 
 Office will give me details after the war. 
 
 At Last! 
 
 'T* HE August sun was almost unbearably 
 '■' hot on the sandy flying ground at Kovel. 
 While we were chatting among ourselves 
 one of my comrades said: "To-day the great 
 Boelcke arrives on a visit to us, or rather 
 to his brother!" In the evening the great 
 man came to hand. He was vastly admired 
 by all and he told us many interesting things 
 about his journe}^ to Turkey. He was just 
 returning from Turkey and was on the way 
 to Headquarters. He imagined that he 
 would go to the Somme to continue his 
 work. He was to organize a fighting squad- 
 ron. He was empowered to select from the 
 flying corps those men who seemed to him 
 particularly qualified for his purpose. 
 
 I did not dare to ask him to be taken on. 
 I did not feel bored by the fighting in Russia. 
 On the contrary, we made extensive and in- 
 teresting flights. We bombed the Russians 
 at their stations. Still, the idea of fighting 
 
 107 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 again on the Western Front attracted me. 
 There is nothing finer for a young cavalry 
 officer than the chase of the air. 
 
 The next morning Boelcke was to leave 
 us. Quite early somebody knocked at my 
 door and before me stood the great man with 
 the Ordre pour le Merite. I knew him, as I 
 have previously mentioned, but still I had 
 never imagined that he came to look me up 
 in order to ask me to become his pupil. I 
 almost fell upon his neck when he inquired 
 whether I cared to go with him to the 
 Somme. 
 
 Three days later I sat in the railway 
 train and traveled through the whole of 
 Germany straight away to the new field of 
 ni}^ activity. At last my greatest wish was 
 fulfilled. From now onwards began the 
 finest time of my life. 
 
 At that time I did not dare to hope that 
 I should be as successful as I have been. 
 When I left my quarters in the East a good 
 friend of mine called out after me: "See 
 that you do not come back without the Ordre 
 pour le Merite." 
 
 1 08 
 
VIII 
 
 My First English Victim, 
 {17th September, 1915)* 
 
 WE were all at the Butts trying our ma- 
 chine guns. On the previous day we 
 had received our new aeroplanes and the 
 next morning Boelcke was to fly with us. 
 We were all beginners. None of us had had 
 a success so far. Consequently everything 
 that Boelcke told us was to us gospel truth. 
 Every day, during the last few days, he had, 
 as he said, shot one or two Englishmen for 
 breakfast. 
 
 The next morning, the seventeenth of 
 September, was a gloriously fine day. It 
 was therefore only to be expected that the 
 English would be very active. Before we 
 
 *This locates almost exactly the date of the formation of the 
 first Boelcke Circus. 
 
 109 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 started Boelcke repeated to us his instruc- 
 tions and for the first time we flew as a 
 squadron commanded by the great man 
 whom we followed blindly. 
 
 We had just arrived at the Front when 
 we recognized a hostile flying squadron 
 that was proceeding in the direction of Cam- 
 brai. Boelcke was of course the first to see 
 it, for he saw a great deal more than ordi- 
 nary mortals. Soon we understood the posi- 
 tion and everyone of us strove to follow 
 Boelcke closely. It was clear to all of us 
 that we should pass our first examination 
 under the eyes of our beloved leader. 
 
 Slowly we approached the hostile squad- 
 ron. It could not escape us. We had in- 
 tercepted it, for we were between the Front 
 and our opponents. If they wished to go 
 back they had to pass us. We counted the 
 hostile machines. They were seven in num- 
 ber. We were only five. All the English- 
 men flew large bomb-carrying two-seaters. 
 In a few seconds the dance would begin. 
 
 Boelcke had come very near the first Eng- 
 lish machine but he did not yet shoot. I 
 
 no 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 followed. Close to me were my comrades. 
 The Englishman nearest to me was travel- 
 ing in a large boat painted with dark colors. 
 I did not reflect very long but took my aim 
 and shot. He also fired and so did I, and 
 both of us missed our aim. A struggle began 
 and the great point for me was to get to 
 the rear of the fellow because I could only 
 shoot forward with my gun. He was differ- 
 ently placed for his machine gun was mov- 
 able. It could fire in all directions. 
 
 Apparently he was no beginner, for he 
 knew exactly that his last hour had arrived 
 at the moment when I got at the back of 
 him. At that time I had not yet the con- 
 viction "He must fall!" which I have now 
 on such occasions, but on the contrary, I was 
 curious to see whether he would fall. There 
 is a great difference between the two feel- 
 ings. When one has shot down one's first, 
 second or third opponent, then one begins to 
 find out how the trick is done. 
 
 My Englishman twisted and turned, going 
 criss-cross. I did not think for a moment 
 that the hostile squadron contained other 
 
 III 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Englishmen who conceivably might come to 
 the aid of their comrade. I was animated by 
 a single thought : "The man in front of me 
 must come down, whatever happens." At 
 last a favorable moment arrived. My op- 
 ponent had apparently lost sight of me. In- 
 stead of twisting and turning he flew 
 straight along. In a fraction of a second I 
 was at his back with my excellent machine. 
 I give a short series of shots with my ma- 
 chine gun. I had gone so close that I was 
 afraid I might dash into the Englishman. 
 Suddenly, I nearly yelled with joy for the 
 propeller of the enemy machine had stopped 
 turning. I had shot his engine to pieces ; the 
 enemy was compelled to land, for it was im- 
 possible for him to reach his own lines. The 
 English machine was curiously swinging to 
 and fro. Probably something had happened 
 to the pilot. The observer was no longer 
 visible. His machine gun was apparently 
 deserted. Obviously I had hit the observer 
 and he had fallen from his seat. 
 
 The Englishman landed close to the flying 
 ground of one of our squadrons. I was so 
 
 112 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 excited that I landed also and my eagerness 
 was so great that I nearly smashed up my 
 machine. The English flying machine and 
 my own stood close together. I rushed to 
 the English machine and saw that a lot of 
 soldiers were running towards my enemy. 
 When I arrived I discovered that my as- 
 sumption had been correct. I had shot the 
 engine to pieces and both the pilot and ob- 
 server were severely wounded. The ob- 
 server died at once and the pilot while being 
 transported to the nearest dressing station. 
 I honored the fallen enemy by placing a 
 stone on his beautiful grave. 
 
 When I came home Boelcke and my other 
 comrades were already at breakfast. They 
 were surprised that I had not turned up. 
 I reported proudly that I had shot down an 
 Englishman. All were full of joy for I was 
 not the only victor. As usual, Boelcke had 
 shot down an opponent for breakfast and 
 everyone of the other men also had downed 
 an enemy for the first time. 
 
 I would mention that since that time no 
 English squadron ventured as far as Cam- 
 
 113 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 brai as long as Boelcke's squadron was 
 there.* 
 
 The Battle of the Somme 
 
 TOURING my whole life I have not found 
 ^^ a happier hunting ground than in the 
 course of the Somme Battle. In the morn- 
 ing, as soon as I had got up, the first English- 
 men arrived, and the last did not disap- 
 pear until long after sunset. Boelcke once 
 said that this was the El Dorado of the flying 
 men. 
 
 There was a time when, within two 
 months, Boelcke's bag of machines increased 
 from twenty to forty. We beginners had 
 not at that time the experience of our 
 master and we were quite satisfied when we 
 did not get a hiding. It was an exciting ; 
 period. Every time we went up we had a 
 fight. Frequently we fought really big 
 battles in the air. There were sometimes 
 
 *Cambrai at that time was a long way behind the front, and 
 Bapaume was a more important mark for the British squadrons. 
 So it may not have been worth while for squadrons to go so far 
 afield as Cambrai. Single machines on long reconnaisance visited 
 Cambrai regularly. 
 
 114 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 from forty to sixty English machines, but^ 
 unfortunately the Germans were often in 
 the minority. With them quality was more 
 important than quantity. 
 
 Still the Englishman is a smart fellow'. 
 That we must allow. Sometimes the Eng- 
 lish came down to a very low altitude and 
 visited Boelcke in his quarters, upon which 
 they threw their bombs. They absolutely 
 challenged us to battle and never refused 
 fighting. 
 
 We had a delightful time with our chasing 
 squadron. The spirit of our leader animated 
 all his pupils. We trusted him blindly. 
 There was no possibility that one of us 
 would be left behind. Such a thought was 
 incomprehensible to us. Animated by that 
 spirit we gaily diminished the number of our 
 enemies. 
 
 On the day when Boelcke fell the squadron 
 had brought down forty opponents. By now 
 the number has been increased by more than 
 a hundred. Boelcke's spirit lives still among 
 his capable successors. 
 
 IIS 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Boelckc's Death. {28th October, ipi6) 
 
 /^^NE day we were flying, once more 
 ^-^ guided by Boelcke against the enemy. 
 We always had a wonderful feeling of se- 
 curity when he was with us. After all he 
 was the one and only. The weather was 
 very gusty and there were many clouds. 
 There were no aeroplanes about except 
 fighting ones. 
 
 From a long distance we saw two im- 
 pertinent Englishmen in the air who actu- 
 ally seemed to enjoy the terrible weather. 
 We were six and they were two. If they 
 had been twenty and if Boelcke had given 
 us the signal to attack we should not have 
 been at all surprised. 
 
 The struggle began in the usual way. 
 Boelcke tackled the one and I the other. I 
 had to let go because one of the German 
 machines got in my way. I looked around 
 and noticed Boelcke settling his victim about 
 two hundred yards away from me. 
 
 It was the usual thing. Boelcke would 
 shoot down his opponent and I had to look 
 
 116 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 on. Close to Boelcke flew a good friend of 
 his. It was an interesting struggle. Both 
 men were shooting. It was probable that 
 the Englishman would fall at any moment. 
 Suddenly I noticed an unnatural movement 
 of the two German flying machines. Imme- 
 diately I thought: Collision. I had not yet 
 seen a collision in the air. I had imagined 
 that it would look quite different. In reality, 
 what happened was not a collision. The 
 two machines merely touched one another. 
 However, if two machines go at the tre- 
 mendous pace of flying machines, the slight^ 
 est contact has the effect of a violent con- 
 cussion. 
 
 Boelcke drew away from his victim and 
 descended in large curves. He did not seem 
 to be falling, but when I saw him descending 
 below me I noticed that part of his planes 
 had broken off. I could not see what 
 happened afterwards, but in the clouds 
 he lost an entire plane. Now his ma- 
 chine was no longer steerable. It fell 
 accompanied all the time by Boelcke's 
 faithful friend. 
 
 117 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 When we reached home we found the re- 
 port "Boelcke is dead!" had already arrived. 
 We could scarcely realize it. 
 
 The greatest pain was, of course, felt by 
 the man who had the misfortune to be in- 
 volved in the accident. 
 
 It is a strange thing that everybody who 
 met Boelcke imagined that he alone was his 
 true friend. I have made the acquaintance 
 of about forty men, each of whom imagined 
 that he alone was Boelcke's intimate. Each 
 imagined that he had the monopoly of 
 Boelcke's affections. Men whose names 
 were unknown to Boelcke believed that he 
 was particularly fond of them. This is a 
 curious phenomenom which I have never 
 noticed in anyone else. Boelcke had not a 
 personal enemy. He was equally polite to 
 everybody, making no differences. 
 
 The only one who was perhaps more in- 
 timate with him than the others was the 
 very man who had the misfortune to be in 
 the accident which caused his death. 
 
 Nothing happens without God's will. That 
 is the only consolation which any of us 
 
 ii8 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 can put to our souls during this war. 
 
 My Eighth Victim 
 TN Boelcke's time eight was quite a re- 
 * spectable number. Those who hear 
 nowadays of the colossal bags made by cer- 
 tain aviators must feel convinced that it has 
 become easier to shoot down a machine. I 
 can assure those who hold that opinion that 
 the flying business is becoming more diffi- 
 cult from month to month and even from 
 week to week. Of course, with the increas- 
 ing number of aeroplanes one gains in- 
 creased opportunities for shooting down 
 one's enemies, but at the same time, the 
 possibility of being shot down one's self in- 
 creases. The armament of our enemies is 
 steadily improving and their number is in- 
 creasing.* When Immelmann shot down his 
 first victim he had the good fortune to find 
 an opponent who carried not even a machine 
 gun. Such little innocents one finds nowa- 
 days only at the training ground for begin- 
 ners. 
 
 *This testimony to the improvement in the aerial equipment of 
 the British Army is well worthy of note. 
 
 119 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 On the ninth of November, 1916, I flew 
 towards the enemy with my Httle comrade 
 Immelmann,* who then was eighteen years 
 old. We both were in Boelcke's squadron 
 of chasing aeroplanes. We had previously 
 met one another and had got on very well. 
 Comradeship is a most important thing. We 
 went to work. I had already bagged seven 
 enemies and Immelmann five. At that time 
 this was quite a lot. 
 
 Soon after our arrival at the front we 
 saw a squadron of bombing aeroplanes. 
 They were coming along with impertinent 
 assurance. They arrived in enormous num- 
 bers as was usual during the Somme Battle. 
 I think there were about forty or fifty ma- 
 chines approaching. I cannot give the exact 
 number. They had selected an object for 
 their bombs not far from our aerodrome. I 
 reached them when they had almost attained 
 their objective. I approached the last ma- 
 chine. My first few shots incapacitated the 
 hostile machine gunner. Possibly they had 
 
 *This is evidently a junior Immelmann of Boelcke's squadron, 
 and not the famous Immelmann, who was already dead before the 
 Boelcke squadron came into existence. 
 
 120 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 tickled the pilot, too. At any rate he re- 
 solved to land with his bombs. I fired a 
 few more shots to accelerate his progress 
 downwards. He fell close to our flying 
 ground at Lagnicourt. 
 
 While I was fighting my opponent, Im- 
 melmann had tackled another Englishman 
 and had brought him down in the same lo- 
 cality. Both of us flew quickly home in 
 order to have a look at the machines we 
 had downed. We jumped into a motor car, 
 drove in the direction where our victims 
 lay and had to run along a distance through 
 the fields. It was very hot, therefore I un- 
 buttoned all my garments even the collar 
 and the shirt. I took oE my jacket, left my 
 cap in the car but took with me a big stick. 
 My boots were miry up to the knees. I 
 looked like a tramp. I arrived in the vicinity 
 of my victim. In the meantime, a lot of 
 people had of course gathered around. 
 
 At one spot there was a group of officers. 
 I approached them, greeted them, and asked 
 the first one whom I met whether he could 
 tell me anything about the aspect of the 
 
 121 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 aerial battle. It is always interesting to find 
 out how a fight in the air looks to the people 
 down below. I was told that the English 
 machines had thrown bombs and that the 
 aeroplane that had come down was still 
 carrying its bombs. 
 
 The officer who gave me this information 
 took my arm, went with me to the other 
 officers, asked my name and introduced me 
 to them. I did not like it, for my attire was 
 rather disarranged. On the other hand, all 
 the officers looked as spic and span as on 
 parade. I was introduced to a personage 
 who impressed me rather strangely. I no- 
 ticed a General's trousers, an Order at the 
 neck, an unusually youthful face and unde- 
 finable epaulettes. In short, the personage 
 seemed extraordinary to me. During our 
 conversation I buttoned my trousers and 
 collar and adopted a somewhat military 
 attitude. 
 
 I had no idea who the officer was. I took 
 my leave and went home again. In the eve- 
 ning the telephone rang and I was told that 
 the undefinable somebody with whom I had 
 
 122 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 been talking had been His Royal Highness, 
 the Grand-Duke of Saxe-Coburg Gotha. 
 
 I was ordered to go to him. It was known 
 that the English had intended to throw 
 bombs on his headquarters. Apparently I 
 had helped to keep the aggressors away from 
 him. Therefore I was given the Saxe- 
 Coburg Gotha medal for bravery. 
 
 I always enjoy this adventure when I look 
 at the medal. 
 
 Major Hawker 
 
 T WAS extremely proud when, one fine 
 day, I was informed that the airman 
 whom I had brought down on the twenty- 
 third of November, 1916, was the English 
 Immelmann. 
 
 In view of the character of our fight it was 
 clear to me that I had been tackling a flying 
 champion. 
 
 One day I was blithely flying to give chase 
 when I noticed three Englishmen who also 
 had apparently gone a-hunting. I noticed 
 that they were ogling me and as I felt much 
 inclination to have a fight I did not want to 
 disappoint them. 
 
 123 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 I was flying at a lower altitude. Conse- 
 quently I had to wait until one of my English 
 friends tried to drop on me. After a short ' 
 while on the three came sailing along and 
 attempted to tackle me in the rear. After 
 firing five shots he had to stop for I had 
 swerved in a sharp curve. 
 
 The Englishman tried to catch me up in 
 the rear while I tried to get behind him. So 
 we circled round and round like madmen 
 after one another at an altitude of about 
 10,000 feet. 
 
 First we circled twenty times to the left, 
 and then thirty times to the right. Each 
 tried to get behind and above the other. 
 
 Soon I discovered that I was not meeting 
 a beginner. He had not the slightest inten- 
 tion of breaking ofif the fight. He was trav- | 
 eling in a machine which turned beautifully.* 
 However, my own was better at rising than 
 his, and I succeeded at last in getting above 
 and beyond my English waltzing partner. 
 
 When we had got down to about 6,000 
 
 •Major Hawker was flying a de Havilland II with a 100 h.p. 
 Monosoupape Gnome engine, a species of "box-kite" single-seater 
 biplane, albeit very fast and handy. 
 
 124 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 feet without having achieved anything in 
 particular, my opponent ought to have dis- 
 covered that it was time for him to take his 
 leave. The wind was favorable to me for 
 it drove us more and more towards the Ger- 
 man position. At last we were above Ba- 
 paume, about half a mile behind the German 
 front. The impertinent fellow was full of 
 cheek and when we had got down to about 
 3,000 feet he merrily waved to me as if he 
 would say, "Well, how do you do?" 
 
 The circles which we made around one 
 another were so narrow that their diameter 
 was probably no more than 250 or 300 feet. 
 I had time to take a good look at my oppo- 
 nent. I looked down into his carriage and 
 could see every movement of his head. If he 
 had not had his cap on I would have noticed 
 what kind of a face he was making. 
 
 My Englishman was a good sportsman, 
 but by and by the thing became a little too 
 hot for him. He had to decide whether he 
 would land on German ground or whether 
 he would fly back to the English lines. Of 
 course he tried the latter, after having en- 
 
 125 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 deavored in vain to escape me by loopings 
 and such like tricks. At that time his first 
 bullets were flying around me, for hitherto 
 neither of us had been able to do any 
 shooting. 
 
 When he had come down to about three 
 hundred feet he tried to escape by flying in 
 a zig-zag course during which, as is well 
 known, it is difficult for an observer to shoot. 
 That was my most favorable moment. I fol- 
 lowed him at an altitude of from two hun- 
 dred and fifty feet to one hundred and fifty ; 
 feet, firing all the time. The Englishman 
 could not help falling. But the jamming of 
 my gun nearly robbed me of my success. 
 
 My opponent fell, shot through the head, 
 one hundred and fifty feet behind our line. 
 His machine gun was dug out of the ground 
 and it ornaments the entrance of my 
 dwelling.* 
 
 *One gathers that this account is substantially correct. The 
 other two British machines who were with Major Hawker became 
 involved with von Richthofen's four followers and with five other 
 German chasers which came into the fight from a higher altitude. 
 These two, after a busy time, fought their way out, while Major 
 Hawker was fighting von Richthofen. The only flaw in the story 
 is that in fact one of the upper German machines dived onto 
 Major Hawker, who, apparently, in avoiding it, came into action 
 with von Richthofen. 
 
 126 
 
IX 
 / Get the Ordre Pour le Merite 
 
 T had brought down my sixteenth victim, 
 -^ and I had come to the head of the Hst 
 of all the flying chasers. I had obtained the 
 aim which I had set myself. In the previous 
 year my friend Lynker, with whom I was 
 training, had asked me: ''What is your 
 object? What will you obtain by flying?" 
 I replied, jokingly, "I would like to be the 
 first of the chasers. That must be very fine." 
 That I should succeed in this I did not be- 
 lieve myself. Other people also did not 
 expect my success. Boelcke is supposed to 
 have said, not to me personally — I have only 
 heard the report — when asked: "Which of 
 the fellows is likely to become a good 
 chaser?" — ''That is the man!" pointing his 
 finger in my direction. 
 
 127 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Boelcke and Immelman were given the 
 Ordre pour le Merite when they had brought 
 down their eighth aeroplane. I had downed 
 twice that number. The question was, what 
 would happen to me? I was very curious. 
 It was rumored that I was to be given com- 
 mand of a chasing squadron. 
 
 One fine day a telegram arrived, which 
 stated: "Lieutenant von Richthofen is ap- 
 pointed Commander of the Eleventh Chasing 
 Squadron." 
 
 I must say I was annoyed. I had learnt 
 to work so well with my comrades of 
 Boelcke's Squadron and now I had to begin 
 all over again working hand in hand with 
 different people. It was a beastly nuisance. 
 Besides I should have preferred the Ordre 
 pour le Merite. 
 
 Two days later, when we were sitting so- 
 ciably together, we men of Boelcke's Squad- 
 ron, celebrating my departure, a telegram 
 from Headquarters arrived. It stated that 
 His Majesty had graciously condescended to 
 give me the Ordre pour le Merite. Of course 
 my joy was tremendous. 
 
 128 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 I had never imagined that it would be so 
 delightful to command a chasing squadron. 
 Even in my dreams I had not imagined that 
 there would ever be a Richthofen's squadron 
 of aeroplanes. 
 
 Le Petit Rouge 
 
 IT occurred to me to have my packing case 
 painted all over in staring red. The re- 
 sult was that everyone got to know my red 
 bird. My opponents also seemed to have 
 heard of the color transformation. 
 
 During a fight on quite a different sec- 
 tion of the Front I had the good fortune to 
 shoot into a Vickers' two-seater which 
 peacefully photographed the German artil- 
 lery position. My friend, the photographer, 
 had not the time to defend himself. He had 
 to make haste to get down upon firm ground 
 for his machine began to give suspicious in- 
 dications of fire. When we airmen notice 
 that phenomenon in an enemy plane, we say: 
 "He stinks !" As it turned out it was really 
 so. When the machine was coming to earth 
 it burst into flames. 
 
 129 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 I felt some human pity for my opponent 
 and had resolved not to cause him to fall 
 down but merely to compel him to land. I 
 did so particularly because I had the im- 
 pression that my opponent was wounded for 
 he did not fire a single shot. 
 
 When I had got down to an altitude of 
 about fifteen hundred feet engine trouble 
 compelled me to land without making any 
 curves. The result was very comical. My 
 enemy with his burning machine landed 
 smoothly while I, his victor, came down next 
 to him in the barbed wire of our trenches and 
 my machine overturned.* 
 
 The two Englishmen who were not a little 
 surprised at my collapse, greeted me like 
 sportsmen. As mentioned before, they had 
 not fired a shot and they could not under- 
 stand why I had landed so clumsily. They 
 were the first two Englishmen whom I had 
 brought down alive. Consequently, it gave 
 me particular pleasure to talk to them. I 
 asked them whether they had previously 
 
 *This incident confirms the impression that the small Albatros 
 biplanes are difficult to land except in a properly prepared aero- 
 drome. 
 
 130 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 seen my machine in the air, and one of them 
 replied, *'0h, yes. I know your machine very 
 well. We call it 'Le Petit Rouge'." 
 
 English and French Fly- 
 ing. {February, ipi^) 
 
 T WAS trying to compete with Boelcke's 
 "■• squadron. Every evening we compared 
 our bags. However, Boelcke's pupils are 
 smart rascals. I cannot get ahead of them. 
 The utmost one can do is to draw level with 
 them. The Boelcke section has an advan- 
 tage over my squadron of one hundred aero- 
 planes downed. I must allow them to retain 
 it. Everything depends on whether we have 
 for opponents those French tricksters or 
 those daring rascals, the English. I prefer 
 the English. Frequently their daring can 
 only be described as stupidity. In their eyes 
 it may be pluck and daring. 
 
 The great thing in air fighting is that the 
 decisive factor does not lie in trick flying 
 but solely in the personal ability and energy 
 of the aviator. A flying man may be able 
 
 131 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 to loop and do all the stunts imaginable and 
 yet he may not succeed in shooting down a 
 single enemy. In my opinion the aggressive 
 spirit is everything and that spirit is very 
 strong in us Germans. Hence we shall 
 always retain the domination of the air.* 
 
 The French have a different character. 
 They like to put traps and to attack their 
 opponents unawares. That cannot easily be 
 done in the air. Only a beginner can be 
 caught and one cannot set traps because an 
 aeroplane cannot hide itself. The invisible 
 aeroplane has not yet been discovered. 
 Sometimes, however, the Gaelic blood as- 
 serts itself. The Frenchmen will then 
 attack. But the French attacking spirit is 
 like bottled lemonade. It lacks tenacity. 
 
 The Englishmen, on the other hand, one 
 notices that they are of Germanic blood. 
 Sportsmen easily take to flying, and English- 
 men see in flying nothing but a sport. They 
 
 •Except when faced by pilots in approximately equal numbers 
 and equally mounted. It is interesting here to recall the dictum of 
 General von Hoppner, the chief of the German Flying Service, who 
 said that the English are dangerous opponents and show by their 
 fighting spirit that they are of Germanic race. It will be noticed 
 that von Richthofen repeats the sentiment later on. 
 
 132 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 take a perfect delight in looping the loop, 
 flying on their back, and indulging in other 
 stunts for the benefit of our soldiers in the 
 trenches. All these tricks may impress 
 people who attend a Sports Meeting, but the 
 public at the battle-front is not as apprecia- 
 tive of these things. It demands higher 
 qualifications than trick flying. Therefore, 
 the blood of English pilots will have to flow 
 in streams. 
 
 / Am Shot Down. 
 
 (Middle of March, ipiy) 
 
 I HAVE had an experience which might 
 perhaps be described as being shot down. 
 At the same time, I call shot down only when 
 one falls down. To-day I got into trouble 
 but I escaped with a whole skin. 
 
 I was flying with the squadron and noticed 
 an opponent who also was flying in a squad- 
 ron. It happened above the German artillery 
 position in the neighborhood of Lens. I had 
 to fly quite a distance to get there. It tickles 
 ones nerves to fly towards the enemy, espe- 
 cially when one can see him from a long 
 distance and when several minutes must 
 
 133 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 elapse before one can start fighting. I im- 
 agine that at such a moment my face turns 
 a little pale, but unfortunately I have never 
 had a mirror with me. I like that feeling for 
 it is a wonderful nerve stimulant. One 
 observes the enemy from afar. One has 
 recognized that his squadron is really an 
 enemy formation. One counts the number of 
 the hostile machines and considers whether 
 the conditions are favorable or unfavorable. 
 A factor of enormous importance is whether 
 the wind forces me away from or towards 
 our Front. For instance, I once shot down 
 an Englishman. I fired the fatal shot above 
 the English position. However, the wind 
 was so strong that his machine came down 
 close to the German captive balloons. 
 
 We Germans had five machines. Our op- 
 ponents were three times as numerous. The 
 English flew about like midges. It is not 
 easy to disperse a swarm of machines which 
 fly together in good order. It is impossible 
 for a single machine to do it. It is extremely 
 difficult for several aeroplanes, particularly 
 if the difference in number is as great as it 
 
 134 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 was in this case. However, one feels such 
 a superiority over the enemy that one does 
 not doubt of success for a moment. 
 
 The aggressive spirit, the offensive, is the 
 chief thing everywhere in war, and the air 
 is no exception. However, the enemy had 
 the same idea, I noticed that at once. As 
 soon as they observed us they turned round 
 and attacked us. Now we five had to look 
 sharp. If one of them should fall there 
 might be a lot of trouble for all of us. We 
 went closer together and allowed the foreign 
 gentlemen to approach us. 
 
 I watched whether one of the fellows 
 would hurriedly take leave of his colleagues. 
 There! One of them is stupid enough to 
 depart alone. I can reach him and I say to 
 myself, "That man is lost." Shouting aloud, 
 I am after him. I have come up to him or 
 at least am getting very near him. He starts 
 shooting prematurely, which shows that he 
 is nervous. So I say to myself, "Go on shoot- 
 ing. You wont hit me." He shot with a 
 kind of ammunition which ignites. So I 
 could see his shots passing me. I felt as if 
 
 13s 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 I were sitting in front of a gigantic watering 
 pot. The sensation was not pleasant. Still, 
 the English usually shoot with their beastly 
 stufif , and so we must try and get accustomed 
 to it.* One can get accustomed to anything. 
 At the moment I think I laughed aloud. But 
 soon I got a lesson. When I had approached 
 the Englishman quite closely, when I had 
 come to a distance of about three hundred 
 feet, I got ready for firing, aimed and gave 
 a few trial shots. The machine guns were 
 in order. The decision would be there before 
 long. In my mind's eye I saw my enemy 
 dropping. 
 
 My former excitement was gone. In such 
 a position one thinks quite calmly and col- 
 lectedly and weighs the probabilities of 
 hitting and of being hit. Altogether the 
 fight itself is the least exciting part of the 
 business as a rule. He who gets excited in 
 
 *The reference is to what are called "tracer" bullets. The hind 
 end of the bullet contains a phosphorous mixture which leaves 
 a trail of smoke and so indicates to the gunner where his bullets 
 arc going. If such a bullet penetrates a petrol tank or passes 
 through escaping petrol — due to a perforated tank or a cut petrol- 
 pipe — it sets the petrol on fire, but the prime reason is to trace the 
 course of the shot. The Germans use similar bullets as largely as 
 do the Allies. 
 
 136 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 fighting- is sure to make mistakes. He will 
 never get his enemy down. Besides calm- 
 ness is, after all, a matter of habit. At any 
 rate in this case I did not make a mistake. 
 I approached my man up to fifty yards. Then 
 I fired some well aimed shots and thought 
 that I was bound to be successful. That was 
 my idea. But suddenly I heard a tremendous 
 bang, when I had scarcely fired ten car- 
 tridges. Presently again something hit my 
 machine. It became clear to me that I had 
 been hit or rather my machine. At the same 
 time I noticed a fearful benzine stench and 
 I observed that the motor was running 
 slack. The Englishman noticed it, too, for 
 he started shooting with redoubled energy 
 while I had to stop it. 
 
 I went right down. Instinctively I 
 switched off the engine and indeed it was 
 high time to do this. When a pilot's benzine 
 tank has been perforated, and when the in- 
 fernal liquid is squirting around his legs, the 
 danger of fire is very great. In front is an 
 explosion engine of more than 150 h. p. which 
 is red hot. If a single drop of benzine should 
 
 137 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 fall on it the whole machine would be in 
 flames.* 
 
 I left in the air a thin white cloud. I knew 
 its meaning from my enemies. Its appear- 
 ance is the first sign of a coming explosion. 
 I was at an altitude of nine thousand feet 
 and had to travel a long distance to get 
 down. By the kindness of Providence my 
 engine stopped running. I have no idea with 
 what rapidity I went downward. At any 
 rate the speed was so great that I could not 
 put my head out of the machine without 
 being pressed back by the rush of air. 
 
 Soon I lost sight of my enemy. I had 
 only time to see what my four comrades 
 were doing while I was dropping to the 
 ground. They were still fighting. Their 
 machine-guns and those of their opponents 
 could be heard. Suddenly I notice a rocket. 
 Is it a signal of the enemy? No, it cannot 
 be. The light is too great for a rocket. Evi- 
 
 *This is a mistaken idea, common to many pilots who are not 
 motor engineers. Fire in such cases is caused by petrol or petrol 
 vapor being set alight by a spark from the magneto, which because 
 the air-screw is still revolving continues to generate sparks in- 
 ternally even when switched off. A mere red-hot pipe in an engine 
 would not cause petrol fire. 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 dently a machine is on fire. What machine? 
 The burning machine looks exactly as if it 
 were one of our own. No! Praise the Lord, 
 it is one of the enemy's ! Who can have shot 
 him down? Immediately afterwards a sec- 
 ond machine drops out and falls perpendicu- 
 larly to the ground, turning, turning, turn- 
 ing exactly as I did, but suddenly it recovers 
 its balance. It flies straight towards me. 
 It also is an Albatros. No doubt it had the 
 same experience as I had. 
 
 I had fallen to an altitude of perhaps one 
 thousand feet and had to look out for a 
 landing. Now such a sudden landing usu- 
 ally leads to breakages and as these are occa- 
 sionally serious it was time to look out. I 
 found a meadow. It was not very large but 
 it just sufficed if I used due caution. Be- 
 sides it was favorably situated on the high 
 road near Henin-Lietard. There I meant to 
 land. 
 
 Everything went as desired and my first 
 thought was, "What has become of the other 
 fellow." He landed a few kilometers from 
 the spot where I had come to the ground. 
 
 139 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 I had ample time to inspect the damage. 
 My machine had been hit a number of times. 
 The shot which caused me to give up the 
 fight had gone through both benzine tanks. I 
 had not a drop of benzine left and the engine 
 itself had also been damaged by shots. It 
 was a pity for it had worked so well. 
 
 I let my legs dangle out of the machine 
 and probably made a very silly face. In a 
 moment I was surrounded by a large crowd 
 of soldiers. Then came an officer. He was 
 quite out of breath. He was terribly ex- 
 cited ! No doubt something fearful had hap- 
 pened to him. He rushed towards me, 
 gasped for air and asked: "I hope that 
 nothing has happened to you. I have fol- 
 lowed the whole affair and am terribly ex- 
 cited! Good Lord, it looked awful!" I as- 
 sured him that I felt quite well, jumped down 
 from the side of my machine and introduced 
 myself to him. Of course he did not under- 
 stand a particle of my name. However, he 
 invited me to go in his motor car to Henin- 
 Lietard where he was quartered. He was 
 an Engineer Officer. 
 
 140 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 We were sitting in the motor and were 
 commencing our ride. My host was still 
 extraordinarily excited. Suddenly he jumped 
 up and asked: "Good Lord, but where is your 
 chauffeur?" At first I did not quite under- 
 stand what he meant. Probably I looked 
 puzzled. Then it dawned upon me that he 
 thought that I was the observer of a two- 
 seater and that he asked after the fate of 
 my pilot. I pulled myself together and said 
 in the dryest tones: "I always drive my- 
 self." Of course the word "drive" is abso- 
 lutely taboo among the flying men. 
 
 An aviator does not drive, he flies. In the 
 eyes of the kind gentleman I had obviously 
 lost caste when he discovered that I "drove" 
 my own aeroplane. The conversation began 
 to slacken. 
 
 We arrived in his quarters. I was still 
 dressed in my dirty and oily leather jacket 
 and had round my neck a thick wrap. On 
 our journey he had of course asked me a 
 tremendous number of questions. Alto- 
 gether he was far more excited than I was. 
 
 When we got to his diggings he forced 
 
 141 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 me to lie down on the sofa, or at least he 
 tried to force me because, he argued, I was 
 bound to be terribly done up through my 
 fight. I assured him that this was not my 
 first aerial battle but he did not, apparently, 
 give me much credence. Probably I did not 
 look very martial. 
 
 After we had been talking for some time 
 he asked me of course the celebrated ques- 
 tion: ''Have you ever brought down a ma- 
 chine?" As I said before he had probably 
 not understood my name. So I answered 
 nonchalantly: "Oh, yes! I have done so 
 now and then." He replied: "Indeed! Per- 
 haps you have shot down two?" I answered: 
 "No. Not two but twenty-four." He 
 smiled, repeated his question and gave me 
 to understand that, when he was speaking 
 about shooting down an aeroplane, he meant 
 not shooting at an aeroplane but shooting 
 into an aeroplane in such a manner that it 
 would fall to the ground and remain there. 
 I immediately assured him that I entirely 
 shared his conception of the meaning of the 
 words "shooting down." 
 
 142 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Now I had completely lost caste with him. 
 He was convinced that I was a fearful liar. 
 He left me sitting where I was and told me 
 that a meal would be served in an hour. If 
 I liked I could join in. I accepted his invita- 
 tion and slept soundly for an hour. Then 
 we went to the Officers' Club. Arrived at 
 the club I was glad to find that I was wear- 
 ing the Ordre pour le Merite. 
 
 Unfortunately I had no uniform jacket un- 
 derneath my greasy leather coat but only a 
 waistcoat. I apologized for being so badly 
 dressed. Suddenly my good chief discov- 
 ered on me the Ordre pour le Merite. He 
 was speechless with surprise and assured me 
 that he did not know my name. I gave him 
 my name once more. Now it seemed to dawn 
 upon him that he had heard my name before. 
 He feasted me with oysters and champagne 
 and I did gloriously until at last my orderly 
 arrived and fetched me with my car. I 
 learned from him that comrade Lubbert had 
 once more justified his nickname. He was 
 generally called "The bullet-catcher" for his 
 machine suffered badly in every fight. Once 
 
 143 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 it was hit sixty-four times. Yet he had not 
 been wounded. This time he had received 
 a glancing shot on the chest and he was by 
 this time in hospital. I flew his machine to 
 port. Unfortunately this excellent officer, 
 who promised to become another Boelcke, 
 died a few weeks later — a hero's death for 
 the Fatherland. 
 
 In the evening I could assure my kind host 
 of Henin-Lietard that I had increased my 
 "bag" to twenty-five. 
 
 144 
 
X 
 
 A Flying-Man's Adventure, 
 {End of March, 1917) 
 
 TTHE name "Siegfried position" is prob- 
 ^ ably known to every young man in Ger- 
 many. During the time when we withdrew 
 towards the Siegfried line the activity in 
 the air was of course very great. We al- 
 lowed our enemies to occupy the territory 
 which we had evacuated but we did not 
 allow them to occupy the air as well. The 
 chaser squadron which Boelcke had trained 
 looked after the English flying men. The 
 English had hitherto fought a war of posi- 
 tion in the air and they ventured to abandon 
 it for a war of movement only with the ut- 
 most caution. 
 
 That was the time when Prince Frederick 
 Charles gave his life for the Fatherland. 
 
 In the course of a hunting expedition of 
 
 145 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 the Boelcke Chaser Squadron, Lieutenant 
 Voss* had defeated an Englishman in an 
 aerial duel. He was forced to go down to 
 the ground and landed in neutral territory 
 between the lines, in No Man's Land. In 
 this particular case we had abandoned a 
 stretch of territory but the enemy had not 
 yet occupied it. Only English and German 
 patrols were about in the unoccupied zone. 
 The English flying machine was standing 
 between the two lines. Our good English- 
 man probably believed that the ground was 
 already in English possession and he was 
 justified in thinking so. 
 
 Lieutenant Voss was of a different opin- 
 ion. Without a moment's hesitation he 
 landed close to his victim. With great rap- 
 idity he transferred the Englishman's ma- 
 
 *Voss was afterwards shot in a fight by the late Lieut. Rhys- 
 Davids, D. C. O., M. C. In this fight, which is said to have been 
 one of the most gallant actions in the war, Voss was flying a 
 Fokker triplane with a French le Rhone engine, taken out of a 
 captured machine. He was attacked by six British S. E.'s, all 
 faster than he was. His solitary companion, on an Albatros, was 
 shot down at the first onset, but Voss, instead of getting away, 
 as he could have done, stayed and fought the crowd. His manoeuv- 
 cring and shooting are said to have been wonderful. Every British 
 machine was hit, cut none was brought down, and Voss himselt 
 finally fell to a direct attack by Rhys-Davids. 
 
 146 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 chine-guns and other useful things to his 
 own aeroplane, took a match and in a few 
 minutes the English machine stood in flames. 
 Then he waved smilingly from his victorious 
 aeroplane to the English who were rushing 
 along from all sides and was off. 
 
 My First Double Event 
 
 nPHE second of April, 1917, was a very 
 * warm day for my Squadron. From my 
 quarters I could clearly hear the drum-fire 
 of the guns which was again particularly 
 violent. 
 
 I was still in bed when my orderly rushed 
 into the room and exclaimed: "Sir, the 
 English are here !" Sleepy as I was, I looked 
 out of the window and, really, there were 
 my dear friends circling over the flying 
 ground. I jumped out of my bed and into 
 my clothes in a jiffy. My Red Bird had been 
 pulled out and was ready for starting. My 
 mechanics knew that I should probably not 
 allow such a favorable moment to go by un- 
 utilized. Everything was ready. I snatched 
 up my furs and then went off. 
 
 147 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 I was the last to start. My comrades were 
 much nearer to the enemy. I feared that my 
 prey would escape me, that I should have 
 to look on from a distance while the others 
 were fighting. Suddenly one of the imperti- 
 nent fellows tried to drop down upon me. 
 I allowed him to come near and then we 
 started a merry quadrille. Sometimes my 
 opponent flew on his back and sometimes he 
 did other tricks. He had a double-seated 
 chaser. I was his master and very soon I 
 recognized that he could not escape me. 
 
 During an interval in the fighting I con- 
 vinced myself that we were alone. It fol- 
 lowed that the victory would accrue to him 
 who was calmest, who shot best and who 
 had the clearest brain in a moment of dan- 
 ger. After a short time I got him beneath 
 me without seriously hurting him with my 
 gun. We were at least two kilometers from 
 the front. I thought he intended to land but 
 there I had made a mistake. Suddenly, 
 when he was only a few yards above the 
 ground, he once more went off on a straight 
 course. He tried to escape me. That was 
 
 148 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 too bad. I attacked him again and I went 
 so low that I feared I should touch the roofs 
 of the houses of the village beneath me. 
 The Englishman defended himself up to the 
 last moment. At the very end I felt that 
 my engine had been hit. Still I did not let 
 go. He had to fall. He rushed at full speed 
 right into a block of houses. 
 
 There was little left to be done. This was 
 once more a case of splendid daring. He de- 
 fended himself to the last. However, in my 
 opinion he showed more foolhardiness than 
 courage. This was one of the cases where 
 one must differentiate between energy and 
 idiocy. He had to come down in any case 
 but he paid for his stupidity with his life. 
 
 I was delighted with the performance of 
 my red machine during its morning work 
 and returned to our quarters. My comrades 
 were still in the air and they were very 
 surprised, when, as we met at breakfast, 
 I told them that I had scored my thirty- 
 second machine. 
 
 A very young Lieutenant had "bagged" 
 his first aeroplane. We were all very merry 
 
 149 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 and prepared everything for further battles. 
 
 I then went and groomed myself. I had 
 not had time to do it previously. I was 
 visited by a dear friend, Lieutenant Voss of 
 Boelcke's Squadron. We chatted. Voss had 
 downed on the previous day his twenty-third 
 machine. He was next to me on the list and 
 is at present my most redoubtable com- 
 petitor. 
 
 When he started to fly home I offered to 
 accompany him part of the way. We went 
 on a roundabout way over the Fronts. The 
 weather had turned so bad that we could 
 not hope to find any more game. 
 
 Beneath us there were dense clouds. Voss 
 did not know the country and he began to 
 feel uncomfortable. When we passed above 
 Arras I met my brother who also is in my 
 squadron and who had lost his way. He 
 joined us. Of course he recognized me at 
 once by the color of my machine. 
 
 Suddenly we saw a squadron approaching 
 from the other side. Immediately the 
 thought occurred to me: "Now comes num- 
 ber thirty-three." Although there were nine 
 
 150 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Englishmen and although they were on their 
 own territory they preferred to avoid battle. 
 I thought that perhaps it would be better 
 for me to re-paint my machine. Neverthe- 
 less we caught them up. The important 
 thing in aeroplanes is that they are speedy. 
 
 I was nearest to the enemy and attacked 
 the man to the rear. To my greatest delight 
 I noticed that he accepted battle and my 
 pleasure was increased when I discovered 
 that his comrades deserted him. So I had 
 once more a single fight. 
 
 It was a fight similar to the one which I 
 had had in the morning. My opponent did 
 not make matters easy for me. He knew the 
 fighting business and it was particularly 
 awkward for me that he was a good shot. 
 To my great regret that was quite clear to 
 me. 
 
 A favorable wind came to my aid. It drove 
 both of us into the German lines.* My oppo- 
 
 *It is well to note how often von Richthofen referi to the wind 
 being in his favor. A west wind means that while the machines are 
 fighting they are driven steadily over the German lines. Then, 
 if the British machine happens to be inferior in speed or manoeuv- 
 erability to the German, and is forced down low, the pilot has the 
 choice only of fighting to a finish and being killed, or of landing 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 nent discovered that the matter was not so 
 simple as he had imagined. So he plunged 
 and disappeared in a cloud. He had nearly 
 saved himself. 
 
 I plunged after him and dropped out of 
 the cloud and, as luck would have it, found 
 myself close behind him. I fired and he fired 
 without any tangible result. At last I hit 
 him. I noticed a ribbon of white benzine 
 vapor. He had to land for his engine had 
 come to a stop. 
 
 He was a stubborn fellow. He was bound 
 to recognize that he had lost the game. If 
 he continued shooting I could kill him, for 
 meanwhile we had dropped to an altitude 
 of about nine hundred feet. However, the 
 Englishman defended himself exactly as did 
 his countryman in the morning. He fought 
 until he landed. When he had come to the 
 
 and being- made prisoner. The prevalence of west winds has, for 
 this reason, cost the R. F. C. a very great number of casualties in 
 killed and missing, who, if the fight had occurred over territory 
 held by the British, would merely have landed till the attacking 
 machine had taken itself oflf. For similar reasons, the fact that 
 the R. F. C. has always been on the offensive, and so has always 
 been flying over the German lines has caused many casualties. 
 Under all the circumstances it is surprising that the R. F. C. casu- 
 alties have not been a great deal heavier. 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 ground I flew over him at an altitude of 
 about thirty feet in order to ascertain 
 whether I had killed him or not. What did 
 the rascal do? He took his machine-gun 
 and shot holes into my machine. 
 
 Afterwards Voss told me if that had hap- 
 pened to him he would have shot the airman 
 on the ground. As a matter of fact I ought 
 to have done so for he had not surrendered. 
 He was one of the few fortunate fellows 
 who escaped with their lives. 
 
 I felt very merry, flew home and cele- 
 brated my thirty-third aeroplane. 
 
 ^53 
 
XI 
 
 My Record-Day 
 
 'T* HE weather was glorious. We were 
 *■ ready for starting. I had as a visitor a 
 gentleman who had never seen a fight in the 
 or anything resembling it and he had just 
 assured me that it would tremendously in- 
 terest him to witness an aerial battle. 
 
 We climbed into our machines and 
 laughed heartily at our visitor's eagerness. 
 Friend Schafer* thought that we might give 
 him some fun. We placed him before a tele- 
 scope and off we went. 
 
 The day began well. We had scarcely 
 flown to an altitude of six thousand feet 
 when an English squadron of five machines 
 was seen coming our way. We attacked 
 them by a rush as if we were cavalry and 
 
 •Schafer wa* also shot by Lieut. Rhys-Davids, R. F. C, later 
 in 1917. 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 the hostile squadron lay destroyed on the 
 ground. None of our men was even 
 wounded. Of our enemies three had plunged 
 to the ground and two had come down in 
 flames. 
 
 The good fellow down below was not a 
 little surprised. He had imagined that the 
 affair would look quite different, that it 
 would be far more dramatic. He thought 
 the whole encounter had looked quite harm- 
 less until suddenly some machines came 
 falling down looking like rockets. I have 
 gradually become accustomed to seeing ma- 
 chines falling down, but I must say it im- 
 pressed me very deeply when I saw the first 
 Englishman fall and I have often seen the 
 event again in my dreams. 
 
 As the day had begun so propitiously we 
 sat down and had a decent breakfast. All 
 of us were as hungry as wolves. In the 
 meantime our machines were again made 
 ready for starting. Fresh cartridges were 
 got and then we went off again. 
 
 In the evening we could send off the proud 
 report: "Six German machines have de- 
 
 155 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 stroyed thirteen hostile aeroplanes."* 
 Boelcke's Squadron had only once been 
 able to make a similar report. At that time 
 we had shot down eight machines. To-day 
 one of us had brought low four of his oppo- 
 nents. The hero was a Lieutenant Wolff, 
 a delicate-looking little fellow in whom no- 
 body could have suspected a redoubtable 
 hero. My brother had destroyed two, Scha- 
 fer two, Festner two and I three. 
 
 We went to bed in the evening tremend- 
 ously proud but also terribly tired. On the 
 following day we read with noisy approval 
 about our deeds of the previous day in the 
 official communique. On the next day we 
 downed eight hostile machines. 
 
 A very amusing thing occurred. One of 
 the Englishmen whom we had shot down 
 and whom we had made a prisoner was talk- 
 ing with us. Of course he inquired after the 
 Red Aeroplane. It is not unknown even 
 
 *It is possible that the figures are correct. Early in 1917, 
 before the advent of the British fighters and de Havilands in 
 quantities, the R. F. C. was having a very bad time. On April 7, 
 for example, it was reported in the G. H. Q. Communique that 
 twenty-eight English machines were missing. 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 among the troops in the trenches and is 
 called by them *'le diable rouge." In the 
 Squadron to which he belonged there 
 was a rumor that the Red Machine was 
 occupied by a girl, by a kind of Jeanne 
 d'Arc. He was intensely surprised when 
 I assured him that the supposed girl was 
 standing in front of him. He did not 
 intend to make a joke. He was actually 
 convinced that only a girl could sit in 
 the extravagantly painted machine. 
 
 "Morit3" 
 
 THE most beautiful being in all crea- 
 tion is the genuine Danish hound, my 
 little lap-dog, my Moritz. I bought him in 
 Ostend from a brave Belgian for five marks. 
 His mother was a beautiful animal and one 
 of his fathers also was pure-bred. I am 
 convinced of that. I could select one of the 
 litter and I chose the prettiest. Zeumer took 
 another puppy and called it Max. 
 
 Max came to a sudden end. He was run 
 over by a motor car. Moritz flourished ex- 
 ceedingly. He slept with me in my bed and 
 
 157 
 
THE RED BATTLE -FLYER 
 
 received a most excellent education. He 
 never left me while I was in Ostend and 
 obtained my entire affection. Month by 
 month Moritz grew, and gradually my ten- 
 der little lap-dog became a colossal, big 
 beast. 
 
 Once I even took him with me. He was 
 my first observer. He behaved very sens- 
 ibly. He seemed much interested in every- 
 thing and looked at the world from above. 
 Only my mechanics were dissatisfied when 
 they had to clean the machine. Afterwards 
 Moritz was very merry. 
 
 Moritz is more than a year old and he is 
 still as child-like as if he were still in his 
 teens. He is very fond of playing billiards. 
 In doing this he has destroyed many billiard 
 balls and particularly many a billiard cloth. 
 He has a great passion for the chase. My 
 mechanics are highly satisfied with his sport- 
 ing inclinations for he has caught for them 
 many a nice hare. I do not much approve 
 of his hunting proclivities. Consequently he 
 gets a whacking if I catch him at it. 
 
 He has a silly peculiarity. He likes to 
 
 158 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 accompany the flying machines at the start. 
 Frequently the normal death of a flying- 
 man's dog is death from the propeller. One 
 day he rushed in front of a flying-machine 
 which had been started. The aeroplane 
 caught him up and a beautiful propeller 
 was smashed to bits. Moritz howled 
 terribly and a measure which I had hith- 
 erto omitted was taken. I had always 
 The aeroplane caught him up and a beautiful 
 propeller was smashed to bits. Moritz 
 howled terribly and a measure which I had 
 hitherto omitted was taken. I had always 
 refused to have his ears cut. One of his 
 ears was cut off by the propeller. A long 
 ear and a short ear do not go well together. 
 Moritz has taken a very sensible view of 
 the world-war and of our enemies. When in 
 the summer of 1916 he saw for the first time 
 Russian natives — the train had stopped and 
 Moritz was being taken for a walk — he 
 chased the Russian crowd with loud bark- 
 ing. He has no great opinion of French- 
 men although he is, after all, a Belgian. 
 Once, when I had settled in new quarters, I 
 
 159 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 ordered the people to clean the house. When 
 I came back in the evening nothing had been 
 done. I got angry and asked the Frenchman 
 to come and see me. When he opened the 
 door Moritz greeted him rather brusquely. 
 Immediately I understood why no cleaning 
 had been done. 
 
 The English Attack Our Aerodrome 
 
 lyj IGHTS in which the full moon is shin- 
 *' ^ ing are most suitable for night flying. 
 
 During the full moon nights of the month 
 of April our English friends were particu- 
 larly industrious. This was during the 
 Battle of Arras. Probably they had found 
 out that we had comfortably installed our- 
 selves on a beautiful large flying ground at 
 Douai. 
 
 One night when we were in the Oflicers' 
 Mess the telephone started ringing and we 
 were told : "The English are coming." There 
 was a great hullabaloo. We had bomb- 
 proof shelters. They had been got ready by 
 our excellent Simon. Simon is our archi- 
 tect, surveyor and builder. 
 
 i6o 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 We dived down into shelter and we heard 
 actually, at first a very gentle humming and 
 then the noise of engines. The searchlights 
 had apparently got notice at the same time 
 as we, for they started getting ready. 
 
 The nearest enemy was still too far away 
 to be attacked. We were colossally merry. 
 The only thing we feared was that the Eng- 
 lish would not succeed in finding our aero- 
 drome. To find some fixed spot at night is 
 by no means easy. It was particularly diffi- 
 cult to find us because our aerodrome was 
 not situated on an important highway or 
 near water or a railway, by which one can 
 be guided during one's flight at night.* The 
 Englishmen were apparently flying at a 
 great altitude. At first they circled around 
 our entire establishment. We began to 
 think that they had given up and were look- 
 ing for another objective. Suddenly we no- 
 ticed that the nearest one had switched ofif 
 his engine. So he was coming lower. Wolff 
 
 *This might be a useful hint to some people who like to build 
 repair depots, or big bombing aerodromes, right alongside the 
 sea a few miles behind the firing line, so that they may be easily 
 located after the shortest possible flight by the most inexperienced 
 bombing pilot. 
 
 i6i 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 said: "Now the matter is becoming serious." 
 
 We had two carbines and began shooting 
 at the Englishman. We could not see him. 
 Still the noise of our shooting was a sedative 
 to our nerves. 
 
 Suddenly he was taken up by the search- 
 lights. There was shouting all over the fly- 
 ing ground. Our friend was sitting in a pre- 
 historic packing case.* We could clearly 
 recognize the type. He was half a mile 
 away from us and was flying straight to- 
 wards us. 
 
 He went lower and lower. At last he had 
 come down to an altitude of about three hun- 
 dred feet. Then he started his engine again 
 and came straight towards the spot where 
 we were standing. 
 
 Wolff thought that he took an interest in 
 the other side of our establishment and be- 
 fore long the first bomb fell and it was fol- 
 lowed by a number of other missiles. 
 
 Our friend amused us with very pretty 
 fireworks. They could have frightened only 
 
 •One assumes that the reference is to the ancient F. E. 2b. 
 "pusher" biplane, which, though produced in 1915, was still used 
 £or night bombing up till well on in 1918. 
 
 162 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 a coward. Broadly speaking, I find that 
 bomb-throwing at night has only a moral 
 effect. Those who are easily frightened are 
 strongly affected when bombs fall at night. 
 The others don't care. 
 
 We were much amused at the English- 
 man's performance and thought the English 
 would come quite often on a visit. The fly- 
 ing piano dropped its bombs at last from 
 an altitude of one hundred and fifty feet. 
 That was rather impertinent for in a moon- 
 lit night I think I can hit a wild pig at one 
 hundred and fift}^ feet with a rifle. Why 
 then should I not succeed in hitting the Eng- 
 lishman? It would have been a novelty to 
 down an English airman from the ground. 
 
 From above I had already had the honor 
 of downing a number of Englishmen, but I 
 had never tried to tackle an aviator from 
 below. 
 
 When the Englishman had gone we went 
 back to mess and discussed among ourselves 
 how we should receive the English should 
 they pay us another visit on the following 
 night. In the course of the next day our 
 
 163 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 orderlies and other fellows were made to 
 work with great energy. They had to ram 
 into the ground piles which were to be used 
 as a foundation for machine guns during the 
 coming night. 
 
 We went to the butts and tried the Eng- 
 lish machine guns which we had taken from 
 the enemy, arranged the sights for night 
 shooting and were very curious as to what 
 was going to happen. I will not betray the 
 number of our machine guns. Anyhow, they 
 were to be sufficient for the purpose. Every- 
 one of my officers was armed with one. 
 
 We were again sitting at mess. Of course 
 we were discussing the problem of night 
 fliers. Suddenly an orderly rushed in shout- 
 ing: "They are there! They are there!" and 
 disappeared in the next bomb-proof in his 
 scanty attire. We all rushed to our ma- 
 chine guns. Some of the men who were 
 known to be good shots, had also been given 
 a machine gun. All the rest were provided 
 with carbines. The whole squadron was 
 armed to the teeth to give a warm recep- 
 tion to our kindly visitors. 
 
 164 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 The first Englishman arrived, exactly as 
 on the previous evening, at a very great alti- 
 tude. He went then down to one hundred 
 and fifty feet and to our greatest joy began 
 making for the place where our barracks 
 were. He got into the glare of the search- 
 light. 
 
 When he was only three hundred yards 
 away someone fired the first shot and all the 
 rest of us joined in. A rush of cavalry or 
 of storming troops could not have been met 
 more efficiently than the attack of that single 
 impertinent individual flying at one hundred 
 and fifty feet. 
 
 Quick firing from many guns received 
 him. Of course he could not hear the noise 
 of the machine guns. The roar of his motor 
 prevented that. However, he must have 
 seen the flashes of our guns. Therefore I 
 thought it tremendously plucky that our 
 man did not swerve, but continued going 
 straight ahead in accordance with his plan.* 
 
 •This description is typical of what these extraordinary night- 
 flying pilots do with their ancient "flying pianos" night after 
 night, when the weather is reasonable. Von Richthofen's generous 
 admiration is thoroughly well deserved. 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 At the moment he was perpendicularly 
 above us we jumped quickly into our bomb 
 proof. It would have been too silly for fly- 
 ing men to die by a rotten bomb. 
 
 As soon as he had passed over our heads 
 we rushed out again and fired after him 
 with our machine guns and rifles. 
 
 Friend Schafer asserted that he had hit 
 the man. Schafer is quite a good shot. Still, 
 in this case I did not believe him. Besides, 
 everyone of us had as good a chance at mak- 
 ing a hit as he had. 
 
 We had achieved something, for the 
 enemy had dropped his bombs rather aim- 
 lessly owing to our shooting. One of them, 
 it is true, had exploded only a few yards 
 from the "petit rouge," but had not hurt 
 him. 
 
 During the night the fun recommenced 
 several times. I was already in bed, fast 
 asleep, when I heard in a dream anti-aircraft 
 firing. I woke up and discovered that the 
 dream was reality. One of the Englishmen 
 flew at so low an altitude over my habitation 
 that in my fright I pulled the blanket over 
 
 i66 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 my head. The next moment I heard an in- 
 credible bang just outside my window. The 
 panes had fallen a victim to the bomb. I 
 rushed out of my room in my shirt in order 
 to fire a few shots after him. They were 
 firing from everywhere. Unfortunately, I 
 had overslept my opportunity. 
 
 The next morning we were extremely sur- 
 prised and delighted to discover that we had 
 shot down from the ground no fewer than 
 three Englishmen. They had landed not far 
 from our aerodrome and had been made 
 prisoners. 
 
 As a rule we had hit the engines and had 
 forced the airmen to come down on our side 
 of the Front. After all, Schafer was pos- 
 sibly right in his assertion. At any rate, we 
 were very well satisfied with our success. 
 The English were distinctly less satisfied for 
 they preferred avoiding our base. It was a 
 pity that they gave us a wide berth, for they 
 gave us lots of fun. Let us hope that they 
 come back to us next month. 
 
 167 
 
XII 
 
 Schafer Lands Between the Lines 
 
 'IIT'E went on a shooting expedition on the 
 '" twentieth of April. We came home 
 very late and lost Schafer on the way. 
 
 Of course everyone hoped that he would 
 come to hand before dark. It struck nine, 
 it struck ten, but no Schafer was visible. His 
 benzine could not last so long. Conse- 
 quently, he had landed somewhere, for no 
 one was willing to admit that he had been 
 shot down. No one dared to mention the 
 possibility. Still, everyone was afraid for 
 him. 
 
 The ubiquitous telephone was set in mo- 
 tion in order to find out whether a flying 
 man had come down anywhere. Nobody 
 could give us information. No Division and 
 no Brigade had seen anything of him. We 
 
 i68 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 felt very uncomfortable. At last we went to 
 bed. All of us were perfectly convinced 
 that he would turn up in the end. 
 
 At two o'clock, after midnight, I was sud- 
 denly awakened. The telephone orderly, 
 beaming with pleasure, reported to me: 
 "Schafer is in the Village of Y. and would 
 like to be fetched home." 
 
 The next morning when we were sitting 
 at breakfast the door opened and my dear 
 pilot stood before me. His clothes were as 
 filthy as those of an infantryman who has 
 fought at Arras for a fortnight. He was 
 greeted with a general Hurrah ! Schafer was 
 tremendously happy and elated and tremend- 
 ously excited about his adventure. When 
 he had finished his breakfast he told us the 
 following tale : 
 
 *'I was flying along the front intending to 
 return home. Suddenly I noticed far below 
 me something that looked like an infantry 
 flier. I attacked him, shot him down, and 
 meant to fly back. However, the English in 
 the trenches did not mean me to get away 
 and started peppering me like anything. My 
 
 169 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 salvation lay in the rapidity of my machine, 
 for those rascals, of course, would forget 
 that they had to aim far in front of me if 
 they wished to hit me. 
 
 "I was at an altitude of perhaps six hun- 
 dred feet. Suddenly, I heard a smash and 
 my engine stopped running. There was 
 nothing to do but to land. I asked myself 
 whether I should be able to get away from 
 the English position. It seemed very ques- 
 tionable. The English noticed my predica- 
 ment and started shooting like mad. 
 
 "As my engine was no longer running I 
 could hear every single shot. The position 
 became awkward. I came down and landed. 
 Before my machine had come to a standstill 
 they squirted upon me heaps of bullets from 
 machine guns in the hedge of the village of 
 Monchy near Arras. My machine became 
 splashed with bullets. 
 
 "I jumped out of it and down into the 
 first shell hole. Squatting there I reflected 
 and tried to realize exactly where I was. 
 Gradually it became clear to me that I had 
 landed outside the English lines, but curs- 
 
 170 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 edly near them. Happily it was rather late 
 in the evening- and that was my salvation. 
 
 "Before long the first shell came along. 
 Of course they were gas shells and I had no 
 mask with me. My eyes started watering 
 like anything. Before darkness set in the 
 English ascertained the distance of the spot 
 where I had landed with machine guns. Part 
 of them aimed at my machine and part at 
 my shell crater. The bullets constantly hit 
 its rim. 
 
 "In order to quiet my nerves I lit a cigar- 
 ette. Then I took off my heavy fur coat and 
 prepared everything for a leap and a run. 
 Every minute seemed to me an hour. 
 
 "Gradually it became dark, but only very 
 gradually. Around me I heard partridges 
 giving a concert. As an experienced shot I 
 recognized from their voices that they felt 
 quite happy and contented, that there was 
 no danger of my being surprised in my hid- 
 ing place. 
 
 "At last it became quite dark. Suddenly 
 and quite close to me a couple of partridges 
 flew up. A second couple followed. It was 
 
 171 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 obvious that danger was approaching. No 
 doubt a patrol was on the way to wish me 
 a happy evening. 
 
 "I had no time to lose. Now or never. 
 First I crept very cautiously on my chest 
 from shell hole to shell hole. After creeping 
 industriously for about an hour and a half 
 I noticed I was nearing humans. Were they 
 English or were they Germans ? They came 
 nearer and I could almost have fallen round 
 their necks, when I discovered our own 
 musketeers. They were a German patrol 
 who were nosing about in No Man's Land. 
 
 "One of the men conducted me to the Com- 
 mander of his Company. I was told that in 
 the evening I had landed about fifty yards 
 in front of the enemy lines and that our in- 
 fantry had given me up for lost. I had a 
 good supper and then I started on my way 
 home. Behind me there was far more shoot- 
 ing than in front of me. Every path, every 
 trench, every bush, every hollow, was 
 under enemy fire. The English attacked on 
 the next morning, and consequently, they 
 had to begin their artillery preparation the 
 
 172 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 evening before. So I had chosen an unfav- 
 orable day for my enterprise. I reached the 
 first telephone only at two o'clock in the 
 morning w^hen I 'phoned to the Squadron." 
 We were all very happy to have our Scha- 
 fer again with us. He went to bed. Any 
 other man would have taken a rest from 
 flying for twenty-four hours. But on the 
 afternoon of this very day friend Schafer 
 attacked a low flying B. E. above Monchy. 
 
 The Anti-Richthofen Squadron 
 
 np HE English had hit upon a splendid joke. 
 -*• They intended to catch me or to bring 
 me down. For that purpose they had actu- 
 ally organized a special squadron which flew 
 about in that part which we frequented as 
 a rule. We discovered its particular aim by 
 the fact that its aggressive activity was 
 principally directed against our red ma- 
 chines. 
 
 I would say that all the machines of the 
 squadron had been painted red because our 
 English friends had by-and-by perceived that 
 I was sitting in a blood-red band-box. Sud- 
 
 173 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 denly there were quite a lot of red machines 
 and the English opened their eyes wide when 
 one fine day they saw a dozen red barges 
 steaming along instead of a single one. Our 
 new trick did not prevent them from making 
 an attempt at attacking us. I preferred their 
 new tactics. It is better that one's custom- 
 ers come to one's shop than to have to look 
 for them abroad. 
 
 We flew to the front hoping to find our 
 enemy. After about twenty minutes the 
 first arrived and attacked us. That had not 
 happened to us for a long time. The English 
 had abandoned their celebrated offensive 
 tactics to some extent. They had found them 
 somewhat too expensive. 
 
 Our aggressors were three Spad one- 
 seater machines. Their occupants thought 
 themselves very superior to us because of 
 the excellence of their apparatus. Wolff, my 
 brother and I, were flying together. We 
 were three against three. That was as it 
 ought to be. 
 
 Immediately at the beginning of the en- 
 counter the aggressive became a defensive. 
 
 174 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Our superiority became clear. I tackled my 
 opponent and could see how my brother and 
 Wolff handled each his own enemy. The 
 usual waltzing began. We were circling 
 around one another. A favorable wind came 
 to our aid. It drove us, fighting, away from 
 the front in the direction of Germany. 
 
 My man was the first who fell down. I 
 suppose I had smashed up his engine. At 
 any rate, he made up his mind to land. I no 
 longer gave pardon to him. Therefore, I 
 attacked him a second time and the conse- 
 quence was that his whole machine went 
 to pieces. His planes dropped off like pieces 
 of paper and the body of the machine fell 
 like a stone, burning fiercely. It dropped 
 into a morass. It was impossible to dig it out 
 and I have never discovered the name of my 
 opponent. He had disappeared. Only the 
 end of the tail was visible and marked the 
 place where he had dug his own grave. 
 
 Simultaneously with me, Wolff and my 
 brother had attacked their opponents and 
 had forced them to land not far from my 
 victim. 
 
 175 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 We were very happy and flew home and 
 hoped that the anti-Richthofen Squadron 
 would often return to the fray.* 
 
 We Are Visited By My Father 
 
 MY father had announced that he would 
 visit his two sons on the twenty- 
 ninth of April. My father is commander of 
 a little town in the vicinity of Lille. There- 
 fore he does not live very far away from us. 
 I have occasionally seen him on my flights. 
 He intended to arrive by train at nine 
 o'clock. At half past nine he came to our 
 aerodrome. We just happened to have re- 
 turned from an expedition. My brother was 
 the first to climb out of his machine, and 
 he greeted the old gentleman with the 
 words: "Good day, Father. I have just shot 
 down an Englishman." Immediately after, 
 I also climbed out of my machine and 
 greeted him "Good day, Father, I have just 
 shot down an Englishman." The old gentle- 
 man felt very happy and he was delighted. 
 
 *One can find no trace of any deliberate attempt to organize 
 an anti-Richthofen Circus in the R. F. C, and therefore one 
 assumes that these were merely three gallant lads on new type 
 Spads who went out deliberately on their own account to look for 
 trouble, and found more than they expected. 
 
 176 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 That was obvious. He is not one of those 
 fathers who are afraid for their sons. I 
 think he would like best to get into a ma- 
 chine himself and help us shoot. We break- 
 fasted with him and then we went flying 
 again. 
 
 In the meantime, an aerial fight took 
 place above our aerodrome. My father 
 looked on and was greatly interested. We 
 did not take a hand in the fight for we were 
 standing on the ground and looked on our- 
 selves. 
 
 An English squadron had broken through 
 and was being attacked above our aerodrome 
 by some of our own reconnoitering aero- 
 planes. Suddenly one of the machines 
 started turning over and over. Then it re- 
 covered itself and came gliding down nor- 
 mally. We saw, with regret this time, that it 
 was a German machine. 
 
 The Englishman flew on. The German 
 aeroplane had apparently been damaged. It 
 was quite correctly handled. It came down 
 and tried to land on our flying ground. The 
 room was rather narrow for the large ma- 
 
 177 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 chine. Besides, the ground was unfamiliar 
 to the pilot. Hence, the landing was not 
 quite smooth. We ran towards the aero- 
 plane and discovered with regret that one 
 of the occupants of the machine, the ma- 
 chine gunner, had been killed. The spec- 
 tacle was new to my father. It made him 
 serious. 
 
 The day promised to be a favorable one 
 for us. The weather was wonderfully clear. 
 The anti-aircraft guns were constantly 
 audible. Obviously, there was much aircraft 
 about. 
 
 Towards mid-day we flew once more. 
 This time, I was again lucky and shot down 
 my second Englishman of the day. The Gov- 
 ernor recovered his good spirits. 
 
 After the mid-day dinner I slept a little. I 
 was again quite fresh. Wolff had fought the 
 enemy in the meantime with his group of 
 machines and had himself bagged an enemy. 
 Schafer also had eaten one. In the after- 
 noon my brother and I accompanied by Scha- 
 fer, Festner and Allmenroder flew twice 
 more. 
 
 178 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 The first afternoon flight was a failure. 
 The second was all the better. Soon after 
 we had come to the front a hostile squadron 
 met us. Unfortunately they occupied a 
 higher altitude so we could not do anything. 
 We tried to climb to their level but did not 
 succeed. We had to let them go.* ^ 
 
 We flew along the front. My brother was 
 next to me, in front of the others. Suddenly 
 I noticed two hostile artillery fliers ap- 
 proaching our front in the most impertinent 
 and provocative manner. I waved to my 
 brother and he understood my meaning. We 
 flew side by side increasing our speed. Each 
 of us felt certain that he was superior to the 
 enemy. It was a great thing that we could 
 absolutely rely on one another and that was 
 the principal thing. One has to know one's 
 flying partner. 
 
 My brother was the first to approach his 
 enemy. He attacked the first and I took care 
 of the second. At the last moment I quickly 
 looked round in order to feel sure that there 
 was no third aeroplane about. We were 
 
 •This appears to be the first admission that the newer British 
 machines could out-climb the famous Albatros chasers. 
 
 179 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 alone and could see eye to eye. Soon I had 
 got on the favorable side of my opponent. A 
 short spell of quick firing and the enemy ma- 
 chine went to pieces. I never had a more 
 rapid success. 
 
 While I v^as still looking where my ene- 
 my's fragments were falling, I noticed my 
 brother. He was scarcely five hundred yards 
 away from me and was still fighting his op- 
 ponent. 
 
 I had time to study the struggle and must 
 say that I myself could not have done any 
 better than he did. He had rushed his man 
 and both were turning around one another. 
 Suddenly, the enemy machine reared. That 
 is a certain indication of a hit. Probably the 
 pilot was shot in the head. The machine 
 fell and the planes of the enemy apparatus 
 went to pieces. They fell quite close to my 
 victim. I flew towards my brother and we 
 congratulated one another by waving. We 
 were highly satisfied with our performance 
 and flew off. It is a splendid thing when one 
 can fly together with one's brother and do 
 so well. 
 
 i8o 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 In the meantime, the other fellows of the 
 squadron had drawn near and were watch- 
 ing the spectacle of the fight of the two 
 brothers. Of course they could not help us, 
 for only one man can shoot down an oppo- 
 nent. If one airman has tackled his enemy 
 the others cannot assist. They can only look 
 on and protect his back. Otherwise, he 
 might be attacked in the rear. 
 
 We flew on and went to a higher altitude, 
 for there was apparently a meeting some- 
 where in the air for the members of the Anti- 
 Richthofen Club. They could recognize us 
 from far away. In the powerful sunlight, 
 the beautiful red color of our machines could 
 be seen at a long distance. 
 
 We closed our ranks for we knew that our . 
 English friends pursued the same business 
 as we. Unfortunately, they were again too 
 high. So we had to wait for their attack. 
 The celebrated triplanes and Spads were per- 
 fectly new machines. However, the quality 
 of the box matters little. Success depends 
 upon the man who sits in it. The English 
 airmen played a cautious game but would 
 
 i8i 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 not bite. We offered to fight them, either 
 on one side of the front or on the other. But 
 they said : No, thank you. What is the good 
 of bringing out a squadron against us and 
 then turning tail?* 
 
 At last, one of the men plucked up cour- 
 age and dropped down upon our rear ma- 
 chine. Naturally battle was accepted al- 
 though our position was unfavorable. If 
 you wish to do business you must, after all, 
 adapt yourself to the desires of your cus- 
 tomers. Therefore we all turned round. 
 The Englishman noticed what was going on 
 and got away. The battle had begun. 
 
 Another Englishman tried a similar trick 
 on me and I greeted him at once with quick 
 fire from my two machine guns. He tried 
 to escape me by dropping down. That was 
 fatal to him. When he got beneath me I 
 remained on top of him. Everything in the 
 air that is beneath me, especially if it is a 
 one-seater, a chaser, is lost, for it cannot 
 shoot to the rear. 
 
 •The probability is that the British machines being high up, 
 and watching the sky all round, did not notice, the little red 
 machines against the dark ground below them for some time. 
 
 182 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 My opponent had a very good and very 
 fast machine. However, he did not succeed 
 in reaching the English lines. I began to 
 fire at him when we were above Lens. I 
 started shooting when I was much too far 
 away. That was merely a trick of mine. I 
 did not mean so much to hit him as to 
 frighten him, and I succeeded in catching 
 him. He began flying curves and this en- 
 abled me to draw near. I tried the same 
 manoeuver a second and a third time. 
 Everytime my foolish friend started making 
 his curves I gradually edged quite close to 
 him. 
 
 I approached him almost to touching dis- 
 tance. I aimed very carefully. I waited a 
 moment and when I was at most at a dis- 
 tance of fifty yards from him I started with 
 both the machine guns at the same time. I 
 heard a slight hissing noise, a certain sign 
 that the benzine tanks had been hit. Then 
 I saw a bright flame and my lord disap- 
 peared below. 
 
 This was the fourth victim of the day. 
 My brother had bagged two. Apparently, 
 
 183 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 we had invited our father to a treat. His 
 joy was wonderful. 
 
 I had invited several gentlemen for the 
 evening. Among these was my dear Wedel 
 who happened to be in the neighborhood. 
 We had a great treat. The two brothers 
 had bagged six Englishmen in a single day. 
 That is a whole flying squadron.* 
 
 I believe the English cease to feel any 
 sympathy for us.** 
 
 / Fly Home 
 J HAD shot down fifty aeroplanes. That 
 -*■ was a good number but I would have 
 preferred fifty-two. So I went up one day 
 and had another two, although it was 
 against orders. 
 
 As a matter of fact I had been allowed to 
 bag only forty-one. Anyone will be able to 
 guess why the number was fixed at forty- 
 
 *A whole squadron is eighteen machines, divided into three 
 "flights" of six machines each. The word squadron does not, 
 apparently, translate exactly into German. 
 
 ••Nevertheless, some months after this, a young British pilot 
 was being entertained one evening by his squadron in celebration 
 of his having been awarded the D. S. O., and when called upon 
 for a speech proposed the health of von Richthofen. And the squad- 
 ron duly honored the toast. 
 
 184 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 one. Just for that reason I wanted to avoid 
 that figure. I am not out for breaking rec- 
 ords. Besides, generally speaking, we of the 
 Flying Corps do not think of records at all. 
 We merely think of our duty. Boelcke might 
 have shot down a hundred aeroplanes but 
 for his accident, and many others of our dear 
 dead comrades might have vastly increased 
 their bag but for their sudden death. Still, 
 it is some fun to have dov/ned half a hundred 
 aeroplanes. After all, I had succeeded in 
 obtaining permission to bring down fifty ma- 
 chines before going on leave. 
 
 I hope that I may live to celebrate a second 
 lot of fifty. 
 
 In the evening of that particular day the 
 telephone bell was ringing. Headquarters 
 wished to §peak to me. It seemed to me the 
 height of fun to be connected with the holy 
 of holies. 
 
 Over the wire they gave me the cheerful 
 news that His Majesty had expressed the 
 wish to make my personal acquaintance and 
 had fixed the date for me. I had to make 
 an appearance on the second of May. The 
 
 185 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 notification reached me on the thirtieth of 
 April at nine o'clock in the evening. I should 
 not have been able to fulfil the wish of our 
 All-Highest War-Lord by taking the train. 
 I therefore thought I v^ould travel by air, 
 especially as that mode of locomotion is far 
 pleasanter. I started the next morning, not 
 in my single-seater "le petit rouge" but in 
 a big fat double-seater. 
 
 I took a seat at the rear, not at the sticks. 
 The man v^ho had to do the flying was Lieut. 
 Krefft, one of the officers of my squadron. 
 He was just going on furlough to recover 
 his strength, so that it suited him admirably 
 to act as my pilot. He reached home more 
 quickly traveling by air and he preferred 
 the trip by aeroplane. 
 
 I started on the journey rather hastily. 
 The only luggage which I took with me was 
 my tooth-brush. Therefore, I had to dress 
 for the journey in the clothes in which I was 
 to appear at Headquarters. Now, a soldier 
 does not carry with him many beautiful 
 uniforms when he goes to war and the scarc- 
 ity of nice clothes is particularly great in 
 
 i86 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 the case of such a poor front hog as my- 
 self. 
 
 My brother undertook the command of 
 the aeroplane squadron in my absence. I 
 took leave with a few words for I hoped soon 
 to recommence my work among those dear 
 fellows. 
 
 The flight went via Namur, Liege, Aix la 
 Chapelle and Cologne. It was lovely for 
 once to sail through the air without any 
 thoughts of war. The weather was won- 
 derful. We had rarely had such a perfect 
 time. Probably the men at the front would 
 be extremely busy. 
 
 Soon our own captive balloons were lost 
 to sight. The thunder of the Battle of Arras 
 was only heard in the distance. Beneath us 
 all was peace. We saw steamers on the 
 rivers and fast trains on the railways. We 
 easily overtook everything below. The wind 
 was in our favor. The earth seemed as flat 
 as a threshing floor. The beautiful moun- 
 tains of the Meuse were not recognizable as 
 mountains. One could not even trace them 
 by their shadows, for the sun was right 
 
 187 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 above us. We only knew that they were 
 there and with a Httle imagination we could 
 hide ourselves in the cool glades of that de- 
 lightful country. 
 
 It had become late. Clouds were gather- 
 ing below and hid from us the earth. We 
 flew on, taking our direction by means of 
 the sun and the compass. The vicinity of 
 Holland was disagreeable to us. We decided 
 to go lower in order to find out where we 
 were. We went beneath the cloud and dis- 
 covered that we were above Namur. 
 
 We then went on to Aix la Chapelle. We 
 left that town to our left and about mid-day 
 we reached Cologne. We both were in high 
 spirits. We had before us a long leave of 
 absence. The weather was beautiful. We 
 had succeeded in all our undertakings. We 
 had reached Cologne. We could be certain 
 to get to Headquarters in time, whatever 
 might happen. 
 
 Our coming had been announced in Col- 
 ogne by telegram. People were looking out 
 for us. On the previous day the newspapers 
 had reported my fifty-second aerial victory. 
 
 i88 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 One can imagine what kind of a reception 
 they had prepared for us. 
 
 Having been flying for three hours I had 
 a slight headache. Therefore, I thought I 
 would take forty winks, before going to 
 Headquarters. From Cologne we flew along 
 the Rhine for some distance. I knew the 
 country well. I had often journeyed that 
 way by steamer, by motor car, and by rail- 
 way, and now I was traveling by aeroplane. 
 It is difficult to say which of these is the 
 most pleasant form of locomotion. Of 
 course, one can see the details of the land- 
 scape better from the steamer. However, 
 the commanding view one gets from an aero- 
 plane has also its attractions. The Rhine is 
 a very beautiful river, from above as well 
 as from any other viewpoint. 
 
 We flew rather low in order not to lose 
 the sensation that we were traveling among 
 mountains, for after all the most beautiful 
 part of the Rhine are the tree clad hills and 
 castles. Of course we could not make out 
 individual houses. It is a pity that one can- 
 not fly slowly and quickly. If it had been 
 
 189 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 possible I would have flown quite slowly. 
 
 The beautiful views which we saw van- 
 ished only too quickly. Nevertheless, when 
 one flies high in the air one never has the 
 sensation that one is proceeding at a fast 
 pace. If you are sitting in a motor car or 
 in a fast train you have the impression of 
 tremendous speed. On the other hand, you 
 seem to be advancing slowly when you fly 
 in an aeroplane at a considerable speed. You j 
 notice the celerity of your progress only * 
 when you have not looked out of your ma- 
 chine for four or five minutes and then try I 
 to find out where you are. Then the aspect 
 of the country appears suddenly completely 
 changed. The terrain which you passed over 
 a little while ago looks quite different under 
 a different angle, and you do not recognize 
 the scenery you have passed. Herein lies 
 the reason that an airman can easily lose his 
 way if he forgets for a moment to examine 
 the territory. 
 
 In the afternoon we arrived at Head- 
 quarters and were cordially received by some 
 comrades with whom I was acquainted and t 
 
 190 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 who worked at the holiest of holies. I abso- 
 lutely pitied those poor ink-spillers. They 
 get only half the fun in war. 
 
 First of all I went to the General com- 
 manding the Air Forces. 
 
 On the next morning came the great mo- 
 ment when I was to meet Hindenburg and 
 Ludendorf. I had to wait for quite a while. 
 
 I should find it difficult to describe my 
 encounter with these Generals. I saw Hin- 
 denburg first and then Ludendorf. 
 
 It is a weird feeling to be in the room 
 where the fate of the world is decided. I 
 was quite glad when I was again outside 
 the holiest of holies and when I had been 
 commanded to lunch with His Majesty. The 
 day was the day of my birth and somebody 
 had apparently told His Majesty. He con- 
 gratulated me in the first place on my suc- 
 cess, and in the second, on my twenty-fifth 
 birthday. At the same time he handed me 
 a small birthday present. 
 
 Formerly I would never have believed it 
 possible that on my twenty-fifth birthday 
 I would be sitting at the right of General 
 
 191 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Field Marshal von Hindenburg and that I 
 would be mentioned by him in a speech. 
 
 On the day following I was to take mid- 
 day dinner with Her Majesty. And so I 
 went to Homburg. Her Majesty also gave 
 me a birthday present and I had the great 
 pleasure to show her how to start an aero- 
 plane. In the evening I was again invited 
 by General Field Marshal von Hindenburg. 
 The day following I flew to Freiburg to do 
 some shooting. At Freiburg I made use of 
 the flying machine which was going to Ber- 
 lin by air. In Nuremberg I replenished my 
 tanks with benzine. A thunderstorm was 
 coming on. I was in a great hurry to get to 
 Berlin. Various more or less interesting' 
 things awaited me there. So I flew on, the 
 thunderstorm notwithstanding. I enjoyed 
 the clouds and the beastly weather. The 
 rain fell in streams. Sometimes it hailed. 
 Afterwards the propeller had the most ex- 
 traordinary aspect. The hail stones had 
 damaged it considerably. The blades looked 
 like saws. 
 
 Unfortunately I enjoyed the bad weather 
 
 192 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 SO much that I quite forgot to look about 
 me. When I remembered that one has to 
 look out it was too late. I had no longer any 
 idea where I was. That was a nice position 
 to be in! I had lost my way in my own 
 country! My people at home would laugh 
 when they knew it ! However, there it was 
 and couldn't be helped. I had no idea where 
 I was. Owing to a 'powerful wind I had 
 been driven out of my course and off my 
 map. Guided by sun and compass I tried to 
 get the direction of Berlin. 
 
 Towns, villages, hills and forests were 
 slipping away below me. I did not recog- 
 nize a thing. I tried in vain to compare the 
 picture beneath my map. Everything was 
 different. I found it impossible to recognize 
 the country. Later on I discovered the im- 
 possibility of finding my way for I was flying 
 about sixty miles outside my map. 
 
 After having flown for a couple of hours 
 my guide and I resolved to land somewhere 
 in the open. That is always unpleasant. 
 One cannot tell how the surface of the 
 ground is in reality. If one of the wheels 
 
 193 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 gets into a hole one's box is converted into 
 matchwood. 
 
 We tried to read the name written upon 
 a station, but of course that was impossible, 
 it was too small. So we had to land. We 
 did it with a heavy heart for nothing else 
 could be done. We looked for a meadow 
 which appeared suitable from above and 
 tried our luck. Close inspection unfortun- 
 ately showed that the meadow was not as 
 pleasant as it seemed. The fact was obvi- 
 ously proved by the slightly bent frame of 
 our machine. We had made ourselves 
 gloriously ridiculous. We had first lost our 
 way and then smashed the machine. So we 
 had to continue our journey with the com- 
 monplace conveyance, by railway train. 
 Slowly but surely, we reached Berlin. We 
 had landed in the neighborhood of Leipzig. 
 If we had not landed so stupidly, we would 
 certainly have reached Berlin. But some- 
 times you make a mistake whatever you do. 
 
 Some days later I arrived in Schweidnitz, 
 my own town. Although I got there at seven 
 o'clock in the morning, there was a large 
 
 194 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 crowd at the station. I was very cordially 
 received. In the afternoon various demon- 
 strations took place to honor me, among 
 others, one of the local Boy Scouts. 
 
 It became clear to me that the people at 
 home took a vivid interest in their fighting 
 soldiers after all. 
 
 195 
 
XIII 
 
 My Brother 
 
 T HAD not yet passed eight days of my 
 leave when I received the telegram: 
 ''Lothar is wounded but not mortally." That 
 was all. Inquiries showed that he had been 
 very rash. He flew against the enemy, 
 together with Allmenroder. Beneath him 
 and a good distance on the other side of the 
 front, he saw in the air a lonely Englishman 
 crawling about. He was one of those hostile 
 infantry fliers who make themselves par- 
 ticularly disagreeable to our troops. We 
 molest them a great deal. Whether they 
 really achieve anything in crawling along 
 the ground is very problematical.* 
 
 My brother was at an altitude of about 
 six thousand feet, while the Englishman 
 
 •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. 
 
 196 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 was at about three thousand feet. He 
 quietly approached the Englishman, pre- 
 pared to plunge and in a few seconds was 
 upon him. The Englishman thought he 
 would avoid a duel and he disappeared like- 
 wise by a plunge. My brother, without hesi- 
 tation, plunged after. He didn't care at all 
 whether he was on one side of the front or 
 the other. He was animated by a single 
 thought : I must down that fellow. That is, 
 of course, the correct way of managing 
 things. Now and then I myself have acted 
 that way. However, if my brother does not 
 have at least one success on every flight he 
 gets tired of the whole thing. 
 
 Only a little above the ground my brother 
 obtained a favorable position towards the 
 English flier and could shoot into his shop 
 windows. The Englishman fell. There was 
 nothing more to be done. 
 
 After such a struggle, especially at a low 
 altitude, in the course of which one has so 
 often been twisting and turning, and circling 
 to the right and to the left, the average mor- 
 tal has no longer the slightest notion of his 
 
 197 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 position. On that day it happened that the 
 air was somewhat misty. The weather was 
 particularly unfavorable. My brother quick- 
 ly took his bearings and discovered only then 
 that he was a long distance behind the front. 
 He was behind the ridge of Vimy. The 
 top of that hill is about three hundred feet 
 higher than the country around. My 
 brother, so the observers on the ground re- 
 ported, had disappeared behind the Vimy 
 height. 
 
 It is not a particularly pleasant feeling 
 to fly home over enemy country. One is 
 shot at and cannot shoot back. It is true, 
 however, that a hit is rare. My brother ap- 
 proached the line. At a low altitude one 
 can hear every shot that is fired, and firing 
 sounds then very much like the noise made 
 by chestnuts which are being roasted. Sud- 
 denly, he felt that he had been hit. That 
 was queer to him. 
 
 My brother is one of those men who can- 
 not see their own blood. If somebody else 
 was bleeding it would not impress him very 
 greatly, but the sight of his own blood up- 
 
 198 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 sets him. He felt his blood running down 
 his right leg in a warm stream. At the same 
 time, he noticed a pain in his hip. Below 
 the shooting continued. It followed that he 
 was still over hostile ground. 
 
 At last the firing gradually ceased. He 
 had crossed the front. Now he must be 
 nimble for his strength was rapidly ebbing 
 away. He saw a wood and next to the wood 
 a meadow. Straight for the meadow he flew 
 and mechanically, almost unconsciously, he 
 switched off the engine. At the same mo-- 
 ment he lost consciousness. 
 
 My brother was in a single-seater. No 
 one could help him. It is a miracle that he 
 came to the ground, for no flying machine 
 lands or starts automatically. There is a 
 rumor that they have at Cologne an old 
 Taube which will start by itself as soon as 
 the pilot takes his seat, which makes the 
 regulation curve and which lands again after 
 exactly five minutes.* Many men pretend to 
 have seen that miraculous machine. I have 
 not seen it. But still I am convinced that the 
 
 •Curiously enough there is a very similar legend concerning 
 an aged school machine at one of the British flying schools. 
 
 199 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 tale is true. Now, my brother was not in 
 such a miraculous automatic machine. 
 Nevertheless he had not hurt himself in 
 landing. He recovered consciousness only 
 in hospital, and was sent to Douai. 
 
 It is a curious feeling to see one's brother ] 
 fighting with an Englishman. Once I saw 
 that Lothar, who was lagging behind the 
 squadron, was being attacked by an English 
 aviator. It would have been easy for him 
 to avoid battle. He need only plunge. But 
 he would not do that. That would not even 
 occur to him. He does not know how to 
 run away. Happily I had observed what 
 was going on and was looking for my chance. 
 
 I noticed that the Englishman went for 
 my brother and shot at him. My brother 
 tried to reach the Englishman's altitude dis- 
 regarding the shots. Suddenly his machine 
 turned a somersault and plunged perpen- 
 dicularly, turning round and round. It was 
 not an intended plunge, but a regular fall. 
 That is not a nice thing to look at, especially 
 if the falling airman is one's own brother. 
 Gradually I had to accustom myself to that 
 
 200 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 sight for it was one of my brother's tricks. 
 As soon as he felt sure that the Enghshman 
 was his superior he acted as if he had been 
 shot. 
 
 The Englishman rushed after him. My 
 brother recovered his balance and in a mo- 
 ment 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 ben- 
 zine 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 ex- 
 plodes 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 in- 
 
 201 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 stance, I once saw an English aeroplane fall- 
 ing 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 con- 
 dition? 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 hun- 
 dred 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 adven- 
 ture he made a statement from which it ap- 
 pears that his nerve had not suffered.* 
 Another time, I shot down an Englishman. 
 
 *0n 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 th« 
 pilot and passenger can quit it at once and descend safely. 
 
 202 
 
 1 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 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 in- 
 spected 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, 
 
 203 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 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 noth- 
 ing about his actions for he never speaks of 
 himself. However, I have been told the fol- 
 lowing 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 posi- 
 tion 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 
 
 204 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 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 
 
 205 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 in shooting down an aeroplane. The thing 
 is done by the personaUty or by the fighting 
 determination of the airman.* 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 ex- 
 amination, 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 pre- 
 viously. 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 encoun- 
 
 *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. 
 
 206 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 tered 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 con- 
 stantly dashing at one another. Neither 
 succeeded in getting behind the other. Sud- 
 denly both resolved to fire a few well aimed 
 shots during the few moments of the en- 
 counter. 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 suc- 
 ceed. My brother, who was a little lower, 
 had pulled his machine around too hard and 
 the result was that it overturned. For a mo- 
 ment his aeroplane became unsteerable. But 
 presently he recovered control and found out 
 that his opponent had smashed both his ben- 
 zine 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 ma- 
 chine turned its somersault he had seen that 
 
 207 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 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 hap- 
 pened 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?* 
 
 •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. 
 
 208 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 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 opportun- 
 ities to make myself beloved by them. 
 
 Had my brother not been wounded on the 
 fifth of May he would probably on my re- 
 turn from furlough, also have been given a 
 leave of absence with fifty-two hostile ma- 
 chines to his credit. 
 
 My father discriminates between a sports- 
 man and a butcher. The latter shoots for 
 fun. When I have shot down an English- 
 man my hunting passion is satisfied for a 
 quarter of an hour. Therefore I do not 
 succeed in shooting two Englishmen in suc- 
 cession. If one of them comes down I have 
 the feeling of complete satisfaction. Only 
 much, much later I have overcome my in- 
 stinct 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 squad- 
 
 209 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 ron. 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 an- 
 other Englishman. My brother, though fol- 
 lowing number one, immediately directed 
 his machine gun against number two, al- 
 though his first opponent was still in the 
 air and had not yet fallen. His second vic- 
 tim 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." There- 
 upon 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 Eng- 
 lishman. 
 
 He had looked carelessly, as is usual 
 amongst such butchers. Only on the follow- 
 ing day I received a report as to the place 
 where the second had come down. 
 
 We all had seen his fall. 
 
 210 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 I Shoot a Bison 
 
 \17 HEN 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 Ger- 
 man 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 imme- 
 diately from the station if I wished to kill 
 a bull the same evening. We drove along 
 the celebrated road, through the giant pre- 
 serves of the Prince, which has been fre- 
 quented by many crowned heads. After 
 about an hour, we got out and had to walk 
 
 211 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 half an hour to come to the shooting place. 
 The drivers had already been placed in posi- 
 tion. 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 
 
 212 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 suddenly turned and came rushing towards 
 me at a sharp angle and at a speed which 
 seemed to me incredible. It was a bad po- 
 sition for a shot, and in a moment he disap- 
 peared 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 disap- 
 peared. I caught another glimpse of him 
 at a long distance and he was gone. 
 
 I do not know whether it was the unac- 
 customed 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 Englihman 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 de- 
 fends 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. 
 
 213 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 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 bul- 
 lets 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 
 
 214 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 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 glori- 
 ous stags which have never been seen by 
 man. No forester knows them. Occasion- 
 ally they are shot. One can tramp about for 
 weeks without seeing a bison. During cer- 
 tain 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 Reconnoitring Machines 
 
 LJAD I not become a professional chaser 
 * -*- I should have turned an infantry flier. 
 After all, it must be a very satisfactory feel- 
 ing 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. 
 
 215 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 For that reason his is a very grateful task.* 
 In the course of the Battle of Arras I ob- 
 served 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. 
 
 "This was evidently written some time after von Richthofen's 
 previous disparaging note on Infantry Contact fliers. 
 
 2l6 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 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 Hoick 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 cav- 
 alrymen 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 
 
 217 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 road from an altitude of fifteen thousand 
 feet. As the eye is an imperfect object for 
 observation one replaces it by the photo- 
 graphic apparatus. Everything that seems 
 important to one must be photographed. 
 Besides, one must photograph those things 
 virhich 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 impor- 
 tant than fighting. Frequently a photo- 
 graphic 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 recon- 
 noiter efficiently in the West.* 
 
 The German Flying Machines 
 
 T N the course of the War the German fly- 
 
 ing machines have experienced great 
 
 changes. That is probably generally known. 
 
 *This is really a high testimony to the effective work of the 
 R. F. C. 
 
 2l8 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 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.** The giant plane can carry an un- 
 believable weight. It will easily fly away 
 dragging from three to five tons. Its ben- 
 zine 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 in- 
 stinct 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 
 
 **A Handley Page which landed near Laon early in 1917. 
 219 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 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 im- 
 agine. 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 en- 
 thusiasm for these giant barges. I find them 
 horrible, unsportsmanlike, boring and clum- 
 sy. I rather like a machine of the type of 
 "le petit rouge." 
 
 11 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 
 
 220 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 a bird. The only difference is that one does 
 not fly with wings, as does the bird alba- 
 tros. 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 pro- 
 peller. 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 some- 
 body 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. 
 
 221 
 
THE RED BATTLE-FLYER 
 
 Who can tell what machine we shall employ 
 a year hence in order to perforate the atmos- 
 phere? 
 
 THE END 
 
 222 
 
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