WE were all at the butts trying our machine 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 started Boelcke repeated to us his instructions
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 Cambrai.
Boelcke was of course the first to see it, for he saw a great deal more than
ordinary mortals. Soon we understood the position 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 squadron. It could not
escape us. We had intercepted 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 number. We were only five. All the
Englishmen flew large bomb-carrying two-seaters. In a few seconds the dance
would begin.
Boelcke had come very near the first English machine but he
did not yet shoot. I followed. Close to me were my comrades. The Englishman
nearest to me was traveling 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 differently placed for his machine gun was movable. 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 conviction "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 feelings. 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 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 opponent had apparently lost sight of me. Instead
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
machine 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 impossible 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 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
assumption had been correct. I had shot the engine to pieces and both the pilot
and observer were severely wounded. The observer 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 Cambrai as long as Boelcke's squadron was there.
The Battle of the Somme
DURING my -whole life I have not found a happier hunting
ground than in the course of the Somme Battle. In the morning, as soon as I had
got up, the first Englishmen arrived, and the last did not disappear 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 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 English 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.
Boelcke's Death, (18th October, 1916)
ONE day we were flying, once more guided by Boelcke against
the enemy. We always had a wonderful feeling of security 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 impertinent Englishmen in
the air who actually 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 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. Immediately 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 tremendous pace
of flying machines, the slightest contact has the effect of a violent
concussion.
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 machine was no
longer steerable. It fell accompanied all the time by Boelcke's faithful
friend.
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 involved 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 phenomenon 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 intimate 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 can put to our souls during this war.
My Eighth Victim
IN Boelcke's time eight was quite a respectable number.
Those who hear nowadays of the colossal bags made by certain 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 difficult from
month to month and even from week to week. Of course, with the increasing
number of aeroplanes one gains increased opportunities for shooting down one's
enemies, but at the same time, the possibility of being shot down one's self
increases. The armament of our enemies is steadily improving and their number
is increasing. 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 nowadays only at the training ground for beginners.
On the ninth of November, 1916, I flew towards the enemy
with my little 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 numbers as was usual during the Somme Battle. I think there
were about forty or fifty machines 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 machine. My first few shots incapacitated the hostile machine gunner.
Possibly they had tickled the pilot, too. At any rate he resolved 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, Immelmann had tackled
another Englishman and had brought him down in the same locality. 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
unbuttoned all my garments even the collar and the shirt. I took off 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 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 noticed a General's trousers, an Order at
the neck, an unusually youthful face and undefinable epaulettes. In short, the
personage seemed extraordinary to me. During our conversation I buttoned my
shirt 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 evening the telephone rang and I was told that the
undefinable somebody with whom I had 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
I 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.
I was flying at a lower altitude. Consequently I had to wait
until one of my English friends tried to drop on me. After a short while one of
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
intention of breaking off the fight. He was traveling 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 feet without having
achieved anything in particular, my opponent ought to have discovered 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 German position. At last we were above Bapaume,
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 opponent. 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 Englishmen 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 endeavored 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
followed him at an altitude of from two hundred 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.
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