‘The phone went. The ever so friendly, obliging editors of the ‘Rundschau’ announced that Manfred had defeated his seventy-ninth and eightieth opponent. A great and joyful excitement seized me; I stepped through the door and looked out into the garden. The great blossoming had already begun. Birds were chirping. The earth exuded its strong odour. A longing for peace ran through my heart. Eighty aerial victories – a dizzying height; it had to be enough. Behind every peak yawns an abyss.’