There was great sadness in Germany
Event ID: 682
Categories:
25 April 1918
Source ID: 58
“The grief in Germany was immense. Condolences poured in by the thousands.
Much had been written about him, much had been said about him, countless legends had formed around him. What he was, where only his fellow combatants, his comrades saw him, where enemy aircraft saw him, in aerial combat and at home with his squadron, is evident from the following description: He was first and foremost a soldier. And as a soldier, he was first and foremost a fighter pilot.
He subordinated everything else to this view. Nothing was too difficult for him, nothing impossible, when it came to achieving something for his fighter piloting, for his squadron. As a 25-year-old cavalry captain, he was given the position of commander, a task for which there were as yet no standards or models. It was Richthofen’s task to create these. He had set himself this task. The idea of a “fighter squadron” originated with him. Few people know what he achieved outside of his flying activities. His work on the ground was no less important than his work in the air. No sooner had he returned from a flight than he was already at work in his barracks. Nothing happened in the squadron that he did not know about. He dealt with the paperwork just as reliably and quickly as he dealt with the war in the air. For example, if there was any office work to be done, important matters to be dealt with that could be dealt with most quickly and directly by the higher authorities, he would get into his triplane and take off, fly to the higher authorities, put the stuff on the table and arrange everything on the spot. Once, in incredibly bad weather, when every mouse would have stayed in its hole, he flew carefree to the AOK to settle an important matter.
Only someone as physically fit as he was could cope with such demands. No matter how much he had been through, he always looked fresh and tireless. He only made demands for comfort if they were inexpensive and did not interfere with flight operations. His clothing was as simple as possible; among us, he usually wore only his deerskin trousers. If it was cold, he wore a leather jacket over them. He was only seen in his tunic on festive occasions or when guests were present. In the early days, he would suddenly rush into the adjutant’s office to borrow gloves and a field bandage because he had to report to the ‘Braunschweiger’ quickly. He would then return with a smile: he had received the inevitable house order for the second time. ‘But I can’t tell the man that!’
He was extremely fond of good food, especially when the necessary mustard was available, which he took with everything and anything. But if there was no other option, he was perfectly satisfied with everything. He did not have prima donna moods, although he could have afforded them. He did not refuse a good drop either. But he was always seen sober, even when there was considerable blue air around him.
He valued camaraderie above all else and cultivated it actively. He had the sensible principle that his men could and should do whatever they wanted after the flight. He joined in many jokes and put up with a lot. I can still see his exuberant face when the High Command sent some Reichstag deputies to visit, who went to sleep in a corrugated iron hut in the evening, and Reinhard staged an enemy bomb attack in the silence of the night with a few helpers. When the highly suitable flares, explosions sent through the stovepipe into the corrugated iron hut with a terrible crash and a lot of stench, drove the no less horrified guests out of the barracks with deathly pale faces, they almost ran over the commander right in front of the door. But he quickly slipped away into the darkness…
However, if Richthofen thought that there was any difference between two comrades, he intervened immediately. So one fine day, a gentleman was summoned to him because he had taken a rather loud and somewhat heated exchange with a comrade seriously. He received a fatherly admonition…and promptly snapped to attention. We didn’t know this side of him at the time. It was only later that we realised how well he meant us. Almost all of us had to put up with such “fatherly admonitions”. There were even some among us who received them by the ton, because he felt it was necessary. ‘How the squadron behaves on the ground is how it behaves in the air.
That was his ironclad educational principle, and he applied it not only to his personal squadron, Squadron 11, but extended it to the entire wing. He visited the other squadrons every day and knew each and every one of us, on the ground and in the air. He had a close friendship with his adjutant, First Lieutenant Bodenschatz, and Captain Reinhard, the then leader of Fighter Squadron 6. But his acknowledged favourite was Wölfchen, Joachim. Wölfchen had been in the squadron for a long time, had been wounded three times and had the deadly luck of getting shot up at every opportunity, whether appropriate or not. His fighter pilot activity was therefore initially only passive. Nevertheless, Richthofen kept him in his squadron, while he otherwise ruthlessly and immediately removed anyone who did not meet his tough requirements. But Wölfchen had once rescued the cavalry captain from a dire situation, and Richthofen “smelled” the good fighter pilot in him despite his initial failures. And under his guidance, Wölfchen suddenly learned how to fly properly, took off, wreaked havoc among the enemy squadrons and shot down 10 enemies in a short time.
It is actually superfluous to talk about Richthofen as a fighter pilot. He was probably the best fighter pilot who ever lived. Even though he writes in his book that he shot down the first 20 without being able to fly properly, this was no longer the case later on. He combined great flying skills with great intuition and a certain instinct. Wherever he flew, there was always something going on. Then he shot excellently; after his first shots, the enemy was usually lost, he burned immediately. And that is the whole secret of his great successes; he had no other secrets. He knew no special tricks, perhaps carefully guarded by him. At most, he had one trick, and that was probably shared by all experienced fighter pilots: he kept a close eye on his “bunnies” during the flight, that is, he looked out for the beginners in his own squadron. When the enemy aircraft approached, they naturally also recognised the novice, and soon the bunny was harassed by an attacker; Richthofen took care of this attacker, because he was busy with the “bunny” and left everything else out of consideration. And this attacker, who had latched onto a bunny, was usually doomed. Because Richthofen roared up behind him until he was within ramming distance. And Richthofen was a magnificent shot.
“Those who fly a lot experience a lot” was also his motto. “On good days, an average of three take-offs can be made in the morning.” Then, of course, he flew again in the afternoon and evening. The rest of the time he stood with his men, usually dressed, on the square, the knot stick in his hand and Moritz, the big Great Dane, beside him.
Here he lay in wait for the enemy and regulated the deployment of his squadrons.
He had no sympathy whatsoever for sickly and weak-minded individuals.
That was very hard for some.”
Comments (0)