MvR calls Bodenschatz
Event ID: 408
Categories:
01 July 1917
Source ID: 58
‘At the end of June 1917, an orderly burst excitedly into the soup that had just been placed on the table for the gentlemen of the Boelcke hunting squadron in a château near Cambrai.
‘Take it easy,’ said the adjutant disapprovingly. ‘What’s the matter?’ ‘Lieutenant Bodenschatz is wanted on the telephone by Herr Rittmeister von Richthofen!’ the orderly blared solemnly into the room.
‘Me?’ asked the adjutant in astonishment, moving his chair back and leaving the room to the curious silence of the gentlemen.
‘Good morning, Bodenschatz!’ he heard on the telephone. ‘This is Richthofen. I’ve just been appointed commander of a fighter squadron. I need an adjutant. Do you want one?’
‘Of course. I’ll be there tomorrow morning. Where is that?’
‘Pleased to meet you, Bodenschatz. Marckebeeke near Courtrai. Goodbye.’
The adjutant wandered slowly through the long corridor. He didn’t go back to his meal immediately, but stopped at a window and stared out. That had been one of the nicest telephone conversations he had ever had in his life as an adjutant, which was rich in telephone conversations. He thought it was kind of Richthofen that he had not forgotten him. Bodenschatz remembered the time a year ago when he had been appointed adjutant to Captain Boelcke. He took up this appointment under tragic circumstances. When he arrived at the airfield, he was greeted by the news that Boelcke had been killed that morning. And the new adjutant’s first task was to accompany his dead squadron leader home. After his return to the squadron, he did not have long to reflect on this irreplaceable loss, for a strong wind was blowing and the heroic spirit of the dead leader continued to blaze in the young pilots of his squadron. There were fighter pilots with famous names: Böhme, Kirmeier, Müller and a young Uhlan lieutenant, Manfred Freiherr von Richthofen. The adjutant soon became friends with the Uhlan and when he was given command of Fighter Squadron 11 in the autumn of 1916, First Lieutenant Bodenschatz felt bitterly separated from him.
Great von Richthofen, this call now, and the adjutant set off for dinner to break the news to his comrades.
(…)
To the questioning looks of his comrades, the first lieutenant replied: ‘I’ll be gone tomorrow morning. Adjutant von Richthofen.’ A roar of congratulations rippled across the table. And everyone understood perfectly well that the first lieutenant did not linger much longer over his meal, but disappeared after a few bites with mumbled apologies.’
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