Manfred, baron von Richthofen - World War I - HISTORY.com Manfred, baron von Richthofen A+E Networks Introduction Manfred von Richthofen (1892-1918) earned widespread fame as a World War I ace fighter pilot. After starting the war as a German cavalry officer on the Eastern Front, Richthofen served in the infantry before seeking his pilot’s license. He transferred to the Imperial Air Service in 1915, and the following year began to distinguish himself in battle. The leader of a squadron known as the Flying Circus, Richthofen developed a formidable reputation in his bright red Fokker triplane. He was credited with 80 kills before being shot down, his legend as the fearsome Red Baron enduring well after his death.

Google Manfred von Richthofen began his career in World War I as a cavalry officer on the Eastern Front, but in 1915, when detailed for quartermaster duty, he rebelled: “I have not gone to war to collect cheese and eggs, but for another purpose.” After initially failing his pilot’s license, the future “ace of aces” saw action above Verdun and Kovel. In August 1916, Baron von Richthofen joined a new fighter squadron at the Somme and recorded his first “kill” on September 17; his eightieth and last came in April 1918; on April 21 he was shot down, probably by ground fire over the Somme. Richthofen’s bright red Fokker aircraft earned him the nicknames “red knight,” “red baron,” and “diable rouge,” and his habit of moving the squadron, tents, and equipment from base to base gave rise to the sobriquet “flying circus.” The war in the air became Richthofen’s blood sport.

He possessed the courage to kill or be killed, flaunting his daring with reckless abandon and dispatching his victims in a brutal, pitiless manner. Preferring not to fight alone, he remained above his squadron in a dogfight until he spied his chance to swoop down, hawklike, upon unfortunate stragglers. “Everything in the air,” he once boasted, “belongs to me.” Many of his “kills” were, in fact, joint efforts, but were credited to Richthofen to enhance his stature as a national hero. The Reader’s Companion to American History. Eric Foner and John A. Garraty, Editors. Copyright © 1991 by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt Publishing Company. All rights reserved. Tags Manfred von Richthofen - History Learning Site Manfred von Richthofen Citation: C N Trueman "Manfred von Richthofen" historylearningsite.co.uk. The History Learning Site, 17 Apr 2015. 16 Aug 2016. Manfred von Richthofen was Germany’s most famous fighter ace of World War One.

Richthofen was nicknamed the ‘Red Baron’ and he officially shot down 80 Allied aircraft, more than any other pilot during World War One. Richthofen was born into a Prussian aristocratic family on May 2nd 1892. He was a ‘Freiherr’, a title of nobility that translates as ‘Free Lord’ but is usually translated as ‘Baron’ – hence why Richthofen was frequently referred to as Baron von Richthofen or his nickname, the ‘Red Baron’. British pilots also called him the ‘Red Knight’ in recognition of his nobility. As a child Richthofen enjoyed hunting and horse riding. He excelled at gymnastics. At the age of 11, he started cadet training. After this training had ended, Richthofen joined a cavalry regiment. When World War One was declared, Richthofen was 22 years old and he served as a cavalry reconnaissance officer. Trench warfare made the traditional use of cavalry regiments all but impossible and Richthofen was assigned to infantry duties.

Richthofen was greatly disappointed by this, as he believed that as a cavalry officer he needed to be in the action far more than the infantry was. He applied to join the Imperial German Army Air Service and was accepted. He joined his new unit in May 1915. To start with Richthofen was not a pilot and did not train to be one. His first squadron, No 69, was used on the Eastern Front. Richthofen was used on reconnaissance missions as an observer. He was transferred to the Western Front and started to train as a pilot in October 1915. Richthofen qualified as a pilot and become active in March 1916. The first aircraft he flew operationally was an Albatros C.III. Richthofen did not have a glorious start to his new career – he crashed on his first flight. In the autumn of 1916, Richthofen was transferred to the Eastern Front. Here he had a meeting with Oswald Boelcke – a German fighter ace. Boelcke was looking for men to join his new fighter squadron – ‘Jagdstaffel 2’.

He asked Richthofen to join it and he transferred back to France. Richthofen had his first official kill on September 17th 1916. However, Richthofen had claimed that he had shot down two French aircraft before joining ‘Jagdstaffel 2’- but neither were confirmed kills and they were not credited to him. For every confirmed kill, Richthofen had a silver cup made by a jeweller in Berlin. Each cup had the date of the kill on it and the aircraft shot down. Richthofen had 60 of these cups made before ending this ‘celebration’ as there was a silver shortage in Germany. While his legend may have given Richthofen the status of a daring, devil-may-care pilot, he was not. Boelcke had taught his protégé to be precise when attacking an enemy aircraft and not to take risks. Typically, Richthofen attacked by diving on an aircraft with the sun behind him. This tactic gave him both a height and a visual advantage. When he attacked, he expected other pilots in his squadron to protect his rear and sides.

While Richthofen is traditionally associated with the Fokker Dr. I, he only flew this aircraft for a short time. Only 19 of his 80 kills were made in this tri-plane. He scored most of his kills in variants of the Albatros: either an Albatros II or an Albatros III, though Richthofen also occasionally flew an Albatros V. The II gave him more speed but less agility while the III was more agile but slower than the II. The first aircraft he painted red was an Albatros III and not a Fokker Dr I In January 1917 after his 16th confirmed kill Richthofen was awarded the Pour le Mérite (nicknamed the ‘Blue Max’), the highest military honour in Germany during World War One. In the same month he was given command of Jagdstaffel 11 and he personally trained pilots who flew in it in the art of aerial combat. It was as a squadron commander that he had his Albatros III painted red. Other members of the squadron were allowed to paint their aircraft as well.

The value of Jagdstaffel 11 became apparent in April 1917 – ‘Bloody April’ for the Royal Flying Corps – when Richthofen alone shot down 22 aircraft. In June 1917, he was given his own wing that comprised of four Jagdstaffels. They became highly mobile and were expected to operate at any point on the Western Front with minimal notice. Richthofen was badly wounded during one aerial engagement on July 6th. Recovery from his injuries kept him from flying for four weeks. While convalescing, Richthofen was pressured into writing his autobiography, which the government wanted to use for propaganda purposes. The authorities heavily censored what he wrote. They wanted to maintain his hero status within Germany itself. He was offered a job on the ground once he had recovered but Richthofen refused this arguing that front line soldiers in the trench had no choice in where they fought and neither would he. Manfred von Richthofen was killed on April 21st 1918. During combat, a single .303 bullet hit Richthofen.

He managed to land his Fokker Dr 1 safely but in Allied held territory. The bullet had done fatal damage to his heart and lungs. He died soon after Australian troops found him in his aircraft. He was buried with full military honours in the cemetery of the villages of Bertangles near Amiens. His body was moved three times after this. The French created a large military cemetery for the Germans near Fricourt and moved his remains there while in 1925, his family had the body moved back to Germany where Richthofen was buried in the war heroes cemetery at the Invalidenfriedhof Cemetery, Berlin. His remains were finally moved to the family’s plot in 1975. Biography for Kids: The Red Baron (Manfred von Richthofen) The Red Baron (Manfred von Richthofen) Occupation: German Fighter Pilot Born: May 2, 1892 in Breslau, Germany Died: April 21, 1918 Morlancourt Ridge, France Best known for: The top ranking fighter pilot of World War I Manfred von Richthofen Biography: What is the Red Baron's real name?

The Red Baron was born Manfred von Richthofen. He earned the nickname, the Red Baron, during World War I because he flew a red plane and was the top rated fighter pilot during the war. The Red Baron was actually the nickname the British called him. He had other nicknames as well including "Le Petit Rouge" in France (which means "Little Red") and "Der Rote Kampfflieger" in Germany (which means "the Red Battle Flyer"). Where did the Red Baron grow up? Manfred von Richthofen was born on May 2, 1892 in Breslau, Germany (note: this city is now Wroclaw, Poland). Manfred's father was a major in the German army and it was understood since Manfred was a boy that he would also enter the army. As a child, Manfred loved all sorts of athletics and hunting. He excelled in sports far more than schoolwork. When Manfred was eleven years old he entered the Wahlstatt military school in Berlin, Germany. There he trained to be an officer in the German army. He was an excellent horseman and, when he graduated, he joined the German cavalry in 1911.

Within a year Manfred was promoted to lieutenant. World War I Manfred von Richthofen was twenty-two years old when World War I began in 1914. His first job during the war was running reconnaissance patrols on the western front. However, soon the fighting in the western front deteriorated into trench warfare. There was little use for cavalry in the trenches and Manfred was soon delivering messages behind the lines. Flying Manfred was eager to be more involved in the war, so he volunteered to work as an observer on airplane reconnaissance missions. He flew along with pilots spotting enemy troops, reading maps, and using his machine gun to shoot at enemy planes. Becoming a Pilot After a chance meeting with the famous fighter pilot Oswald Boelcke on a train, Manfred decided to train to become a fighter pilot. He trained hard and took his first solo flight on October 10, 1915. By the end of the year he was certified as a fighter pilot. Throughout 1916, Manfred flew missions against enemy aircraft. He soon joined an elite group of fighter pilots called the Fighter Squadron led by Oswald Boelcke. Boelcke taught Manfred all about being a fighter pilot.

He won his first official victory on September 17, 1916. A victory is when a pilot shoots down an enemy plane. The victory has to be confirmed by witnesses, so many wins over enemy territory did not end up counting as official victories. Manfred soon became one of the most decorated fighter pilots in Germany. He wasn't necessarily a great pilot, but he was a very accurate shooter, took few risks, and used excellent tactics. He often used the sun to hide from view while attacking an enemy from above. He also made use of other pilots and planes to protect him from being attacked from behind or from the side while he went on the attack. The Red Baron's Plane by Unknown The Red Plane In January of 1917, Manfred began to paint his plane red. Soon his squadron was painting part of their planes red as well. He became the commander of the Flying Circus, a group of the top fighter pilots in Germany. They moved about the western front and fought in key battles. Manfred became the top fighter pilot in World War I with 80 confirmed kills. He was shot down once in July of 1917, but survived and returned to battle later that year.

Manfred became very famous on both sides of the war and was one of the top war heroes in Germany. The British called him the Red Baron and he is still most widely known by this name. The Allies wanted to shoot down the Red Baron in order to help break the morale of the German people. Shot Down Manfred von Richthofen was shot down and killed on April 21, 1918. He was only 25 years old. He had been chasing a British fighter pilot when he was hit by a bullet. He managed to land the plane, but soon died from the bullet. He was buried in France by the Allies with a full military funeral. Interesting Facts about the Red Baron Manfred witnessed his hero, Oswald Boelcke, die in a midair collision with friendly aircraft. There is much controversy over who shot the bullet that brought down the Red Baron. Captain Arthur Roy Brown of the Royal Air Force was officially credited with the kill. His younger brother Lothar was also a fighter pilot who was credited with 40 victories. Historians estimate that if his unconfirmed victories were also included, he shot down over 100 enemy planes.

He is most famous for flying the three-winged Fokker Dr. I airplane, but he also flew other airplanes such as the Albatros, C.III. and the Albatros D. II. Learn More about World War I: Overview: Manfred von Richthofen | Frontiers of Flight Museum “Red Baron” KNOWN FOR Manfred von Richthofen was a fighter pilot of the German Army Air Service (Luftstreitkrafte) during World War one. He became a prominent commander of fighter units leading several future successful aces. At the conclusion of World War One he was the “Ace of Aces” of all pilots with more confirmed aerial victories than any other. AIRCRAFT FLOWN – The Red Baron flew several types of aircraft through out his carrier but is most commonly associated with an all red Fokker Dr I Triplane. – Others aircraft he flew included The Halberstadt D II, several versions of the Albatros, including models D II, D III, and D V, in which he actually accumulated most of his victories. These were all bi-planes.

LIVING HISTORY PERFORMER: Donald Gatewood FAST FACTS He loved sports, horse back riding and hunting wild animals. When commissioned a Lieutenant at the age of 20, he became an Uhlan (German Calvary man) and served at the beginning of the war as such. He was eventually trained as a pilot and then recruited and tutored by Oswald Boelcke who had been known as the father of aerial combat. He was shot down and wounded on July 6, 1917 when a bullet grazed his head. He had two bothers, Lothar who was a pilot, and Bolko ( too young for the war), as well as a sister Ilse. His cousin Wolfram von Richthofen also flew with him as a combat pilot. The Fokker Dr.I triplane, often linked with the career of the highest scoring ace of WWI, Germany’s Rittmeister Manfred von Richthofen, “The Red Baron,” the nimble Dr. I earned a reputation as one of the best “dogfighters” of the war. MILESTONES With 80 confirmed aerial victories He was the leading “Ace” of all the pilots of World War One.

January 12, 1917 He was the highest decorated German aviator and recipient of the prestigious Ordern Pour Le Merit, the “Blue Max.” He commanded the most successful fighter unit, Jasta 11. Later he was the first commander of a fighter group, JagdGeschwader 1 (JG 1) which was a combination of 4 fighter units. The Red Baron: Manfred von Richthofen Biography Wars and Conflicts of the 20th Century Studio portrait of German aviator Baron Manfred Von Richthofen (1882 - 1918) holding a cigarette while wearing a military uniform. Known as 'The Red Baron,' he won eighty aerial victories before he was killed in action over France during WWI. (Photo by Nicola Perscheid/Hulton Archive/Getty Images) Updated October 19, 2015. World War I was a bloody war, fought in muddy trenches and overwhelmed with slaughter. Yet a few soldiers escaped this anonymous end - fighter pilots. They volunteered to fly when just going up in an airplane seemed heroic. However, most fighter pilots achieved only a few victories before they too were shot down.

Yet, there was one man, Baron Manfred von Richthofen, who liked to fly in a blazing red airplane and shoot down plane after plane. His achievements made him both a hero and a propaganda tool. With 80 credited victories , Baron Manfred von Richthofen, the "Red Baron," defied the odds and became a legend in the air. The Young Soldier Manfred Albrecht von Richthofen's entry into the world on May 2, 1892 made his father, Major Albrecht Freiherr von Richthofen (Freiherr = Baron), extremely happy. continue reading below our video Profile of Manfred von Richthofen, The Red Baron Though Manfred was his second child, Manfred was his first son. Two more sons, Lothar and Karl Bolko, soon followed. The Richthofens came from a long line that could be traced back to the sixteenth century. Many in the family raised merino sheep and farmed on their lands in Silesia. Manfred grew up in his family's villa in the town of Schweidnitz.

There, his Uncle Alexander, who had hunted in Africa, Asia, and Europe, fired in Manfred a passion for hunting. Even before Manfred was born, Albrecht von Richthofen had decided that his first son would follow in his footsteps and join the military. Albrecht himself had become one of the first Richthofen's to become a career military officer. Unfortunately, a daring rescue to save several other soldiers who had fallen into the icy Oder River had left Albrecht deaf and with an early retirement. Manfred did follow in his father's footsteps. At age eleven, Manfred entered the Wahlstatt cadet school in Berlin. Though he disliked the school's rigid discipline and received poor grades, Manfred excelled at athletics and gymnastics. After six years at Wahlstatt, Manfred graduated to the Senior Cadet Academy at Lichterfelde which he found more likeable. After completing a course at the Berlin War Academy, Manfred joined the cavalry. In 1912, Manfred, after having been commissioned as Leutnant (lieutenant), was stationed in Militsch (now Milicz, Poland). In the summer of 1914, World War I began.

To the Air! When the war began, Manfred von Richthofen was 22 years old and stationed on Germany's eastern border, but was soon transferred to the west. During the charge into Belgium and France, Manfred's cavalry regiment was attached to the infantry for whom Manfred conducted reconnaissance patrols. However, when Germany's advance was halted outside of Paris and both sides dug in, the need for cavalry was eliminated. A man sitting on horseback had no place in the trenches. Manfred was transferred to the Signal Corps where he laid telephone wire and delivered dispatches. Frustrated with life near the trenches, Richthofen looked up. Though he didn't know which planes fought for Germany and which ones fought for their enemies, he knew that airplanes - and not the cavalry - now flew the reconnaissance missions. Yet becoming a pilot took months of training, probably longer than the war would last. So instead of flight school, Richthofen requested to be transferred to the Air Service to become an observer. In May 1915, Richthofen traveled to Cologne for the observer training program at the No. 7 Air Replacement Station.

Even though Richthofen didn't have to fly the airplane, he still had to go up in one. At seven o'clock the next morning I was to fly for the first time as an observer. Naturally, I was very excited, because I could not imagine what it would be like. Everyone I asked told me something different. The night before I had gone to bed earlier than usual to be fresh for the great moment next morning. We drove to the airfield and I sat in an airplane for the first time. The blast of wind from the propeller disturbed me greatly. It was impossible to make myself heard by the pilot. Everything flew away from me. If I took a piece of paper out, it disappeared. My flying helmet slipped off, my muffler loosened too much, and my jacket was not buttoned securely - in short, I was miserable. Before I knew what was happening, the pilot got the engine up to full speed and the machine began rolling, faster and faster. I hung on frantically. Then the shaking stopped and we were in the air. The ground slipped away beneath us.1 During this first flight, Richthofen lost sense of his location and thus was unable to give the pilot directions.

So they landed. Richthofen continued to study and learn. He was taught how to read a map, drop bombs, locate enemy troops, and draw pictures while still in the air. Prev The Red Baron: Manfred von Richthofen The Red Baron: Manfred von Richthofen SHARE: Facebook Twitter The greatest fighter ace of the First World War, Manfred von Richthofen, was born on the 2nd of May 1892. Becoming an officer cadet at the age of eleven, von Richthofen joined the cavalry in 1912. With World War One on the horizon, cavalry would soon be a thing of the past. It was as a pilot that von Richthofen would shine. A New Sort of War Combat between fighter planes was a new phenomenon in the Great War. German pilots, under the leadership of Oswald Boelcke, led this new form of warfare. There was glamour to their work, but also a high death rate. Inspired by their heroics, von Richthofen transferred to the air service in May 1915 but was not made a fighter pilot.

He did reconnaissance on the Eastern Front, joined a bombing unit, and in September came to the Western Front. Sent to the flying school at Döberitz in November 1915, his determination made up for a lack of natural skill. Having proved his worth as a pilot, he returned to the war in March 1916. He yearned to serve under his hero Boelcke, and his opportunity came later that year when his brother introduced him to the great aviator. Boelcke invited Manfred to join his new hand-picked squadron. Jasta 2 As part of Jasta 2 squadron, von Richthofen saw his first success on the 17th of September, 1916, shooting down a British F.E.2b. Ruthless and calculating, von Richthofen used the sun, wind and cloud cover to stalk his prey before suddenly attacking. Boelcke died in battle on the 28th of October, and the squadron was renamed Jasta Boelcke in his honour. Von Richthofen continued to impress. On November 23rd, he killed British flying ace Lanno Hawker, his eleventh kill.

On the 4th of January, he took down his sixteenth plane, becoming one of Germany’s top aces. He was awarded the order Pour le Mérite and given command of Jasta 11, his squadron. Bloody April April 1917 was a period of great success for the German pilots, known by von Richthofen’s opponents as ‘bloody April’. In only five days, the British lost 75 planes and over ninety men to the German fliers. Across the month, von Richthofen alone took out 21 British planes. The Flying Circus From the end of Bloody April, German commanders created larger 20-plane formations. Von Richthofen was given command of the first one to be made permanent – Jagdeschwader 1. This new unit was a poster child for the German war effort. Given a mobile headquarters and their motor pool, they moved around the line, appearing suddenly wherever they were most needed. The whole unit painted their planes in bright colours, and von Richthofen was nicknamed the Red Baron for his plane’s colour. This flamboyance earned them the nickname of the Flying Circus.

Encouraging ruthless patience, von Richthofen trained his fliers into a deadly fighting force. He ensured only the highest of standards, and paid attention to individual strengths and weaknesses, deploying men in the positions where they would serve best. All were responsible for maintaining their guns in top condition. A Brush With Death On the 6th of July 1917, von Richthofen came close to death. Hit in the head by a British bullet, he was left temporarily blinded and half paralysed. Just managing to crash land behind friendly lines, he was rushed to a hospital and found to have a fractured skull. He returned to duty on the 26th of July without having fully recovered. Headaches, dizziness, and nausea hampered his flying. His kill rate fell, but he was determined to get back into the war. Continues On Page 2 NOVA - Official Website | Inside the Red Baron's Mind NOVA Inside the Red Baron's Mind By Peter Tyson Posted 10.07.03 NOVA Manfred von Richthofen, aka the "Red Baron," was the highest-scoring fighter pilot of World War I.

In 20 months of combat, he officially shot down 80 enemy aircraft, including 21 planes in the month of April, 1917, alone. For his achievements, Richthofen received 24 military decorations, more than any other German aviator of the Great War. Until he himself was shot down in April, 1918, Allied pilots had ample reason to dread the sudden appearance of the Baron's bright-red fighter sweeping towards them out of the sun, and many must have wondered what went on inside his head. Here's your chance to find out. Below, we present excerpts from Richthofen's autobiography Der Rote Kampfflieger (The Red Air Fighter), which originally appeared in Germany in 1917. (The excerpts below come from an English translation published in London in 1918 by The "Aeroplane" & General Publishing Co.). While German propagandists and censors edited the book, it does provide insight into the Baron's thoughts.

Two additional excerpts from other sources follow, one by Richthofen that reveals how his attitudes toward "the game" changed toward the end of his life, and the other by his mother that describes his eerie inscrutability on his final visit home. Manfred von Richthofen's writings reveal a supremely confident man who wound up resigned to his fate. Enlarge Photo credit: © Corbis Images from Richthofen's autobiography Editor's Note: Born on May 2, 1892, in Breslau, Lower Silesia (now Wroclaw, Poland), Manfred von Richthofen came from a distinguished Prussian family whose roots could be traced back to the Middle Ages. His father, a career army officer, felt Manfred (along with his two brothers) should follow in his footsteps, and he enrolled the future Red Baron in the Cadet Institute at Wahlstatt (now Legnicke Pole, Poland). Early hints of his adventurous spirit come out here. As a little boy of 11 I entered the Cadet Corps. I was not particularly eager to become a Cadet, but my father wished it. So my wishes were not consulted.

I found it difficult to bear the strict discipline 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 possible. The consequence was that my teachers did not think overmuch of me. On the other hand, I was very fond of sport, particularly I liked gymnastics, football, etc. I could do all possible tricks on the horizontal bar. So I received various prizes from the Commandant. I had a tremendous liking for all sorts of risky tricks. One fine day I climbed with my friend Frankenberg the famous steeple of Wahlstatt by means of the lightning 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.

Before he became a pilot, Richthofen, like many German officers, trained as an "observer." Assigned to an aviation training unit at Cologne, he accompanied an enlisted pilot in a two-seater Albatros, directing the pilot where to fly over the lines so he could gather intelligence. Here, Richthofen gives a frank description of his shaky first flight as an observer. The next morning at seven o'clock I was to fly for the first time as an observer! I was naturally very excited, for I had no idea what it would be like. Everyone 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 for the first time into a flying machine. 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 muffler dropped off. My jacket was not sufficiently buttoned. In 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. "It was a glorious feeling to be so high above the earth, to be master of the air." I had been told where we were to fly to. 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 cautiously 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 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.

Richthofen's first posting as a pilot of single-seaters was to the eastern front. There, the German ace Oswald Boelcke—the first German pilot (along with fellow ace Max Immelmann) to receive the Orden Pour le Mérite, Germany's premier award for bravery—chose Richthofen and another young pilot, Erwin Bí¶hme, to join his new fighter unit. Less than three months later, while chasing a British fighter, Boelcke and Bí¶hme's planes collided. Bí¶hme landed safely, but Boelcke's plane lost a wing and, as Richthofen later described it, he "rushed into the abyss." At his death, Boelcke had 40 victories to his name. Here, the green Richthofen describes first meeting the great Boelcke. The Champagne battle was raging. The French flying men were coming to the fore. We were to be combined in a Fighting Squadron and took the train on the 1st 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 he was the only man who had succeeded in shooting down a hostile flying-man, not once but four times. His name had been mentioned in the dispatches. I thought a great deal of him because of his experience. Although 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 business. 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 I was that he flew a Fokker and I my big fighting machine. I took great trouble to get more closely acquainted with that nice, modest fellow whom I badly wanted to teach me his business. We often played cards together, went for walks, and I asked him questions.

At last I formed a resolution that I also would learn to fly a Fokker. Perhaps then my chances would improve. My whole aim and ambition became now concentrated upon learning how to manipulate the stick 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. On November 22, 1916, Boelcke's successor as leader of Richthofen's unit was killed in a battle with British planes of No. 24 Squadron. The following day, the Baron and his compatriots ambushed that squadron, and Richthofen succeeded in shooting down its commanding officer, Lanoe G. Hawker. One of the top English aces, Hawker was the first British pilot to receive the Victoria Cross, Britain's highest award for valor. Richthofen's description of that dogfight hints at the great respect pilots on both sides had for their opponents.

I was extremely proud when one fine day I was informed that the aviator whom I had brought down on the 23rd 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 interested in my direction, 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 wanted 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.

"The gallant fellow was full of pluck, and when we had got down to about 3,000 feet he merrily waved to me." 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 box which turned beautifully. However, my own was better at climbing than his. But 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 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 gallant fellow was full of pluck, 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 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 endeavored in vain to escape me by loopings and such tricks. At that time his first bullets were flying around me, for so far neither of us had been able to do any shooting. When he had come down to about 300 feet he tried to escape by flying in a zig-zag course, which makes it difficult for an observer on the ground to shoot. That was my most favorable moment. I followed him at an altitude of from 250 feet to 150 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, 150 feet behind our line.

His machine gun was dug out of the ground, and it ornaments the entrance of my dwelling. The legend of the "Red Baron" took flight after Richthofen decided to have his Albatros DIII painted entirely red; even the iron cross, the national insignia prominently displayed on each plane's fuselage, gained a crimson cast. On January 24, 1917, the Baron achieved his 18th victory when he brought down an English two-seater bearing Captain Oscar Greig and Second Lieutenant John E. MacLenan of No. 25 Squadron. The two Englishmen survived to chat with Richthofen, who crash-landed his own plane nearby when bullets from MacLenan's machine gun cracked his lower wing. It occurred to me to have my packing case painted all over in staring red. The result 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 section of the front I had the good fortune to shoot into a Vickers' two-seater which was peacefully photographing the German artillery 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 indications of fire. When we notice that phenomenon, we say: "He stinks!" As it turned out, it was really so. When the machine was coming to earth it burst into flames. 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 impression that my opponent was wounded, for he did not fire a single shot. When I had got down to an altitude of about 1,500 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 understand 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 seen my machine in the air, and one of them replied, "Oh, yes. I know your machine very well. We call it 'Le Petit Rouge' ("The Little Red")." From "Reflections in a Dugout" The 1933 edition of Der Rote Kampfflieger includes an essay "Reflections in a Dugout," which author Frank McGuire translated and published in his book The Many Deaths of the Red Baron: The Richthofen Controversy 1918-2000 (Bunker to Bunker Publishing, 2001). In this short piece, which we use with permission, Richthofen assumes a deeply introspective, almost resigned stance that stands in marked contrast to the cool, confident tone struck in his autobiography. A severe head wound he received in July 1917 may have contributed to his change of outlook. In any case, the entry smacks almost of a man's final confession. From the ceiling of my dugout hangs a lamp which I made from the engine of an aeroplane I had shot down.

I fitted small bulbs into the cylinders; and if I lie awake at night and leave the light burning, its glow is reflected on the ceiling, and God knows the effect is grotesque and weird. When I lie like this I have plenty to think about. I write it down without knowing whether anyone besides my nearest relatives will ever see it. I go around thinking of continuing Der Rote Kampfflieger and for a very good reason indeed. Now the battle that is taking place on all fronts has become really serious; nothing remains of the "fresh, jolly war" as they used to call our activities at the outset. Now we must face up to a most desperate situation so that the enemy will not break into our land. Thus I have an uneasy feeling that the public has been exposed to another Richthofen, not the real me. Whenever I read the book I smile at its brashness. I no longer have that brash feeling. Not that I am afraid, though death may be right on my neck and I often think about it. Higher authority has suggested that I should quit flying before it catches up with me.

But I should despise myself if, now that I am famous and heavily decorated, I consented to live on as a pensioner of my honor, preserving my precious life for the nation while every poor fellow in the trenches, who is doing his duty no less than I am doing mine, has to stick it out. "When I again set foot on the ground I withdraw to my quarters and don't want to see anybody or hear anything." I feel terrible after every air battle, probably an after-effect of my head wound. When I again set foot on the ground I withdraw to my quarters and don't want to see anybody or hear anything. I think of the war as it really is, not "with a hurrah and a roar" as the people at home imagine it; it is much more serious, bitter. From Baroness von Richthofen's memoir In 1937, Richthofen's mother, the Baroness Kunigunde von Richthofen, published Mein Kriegstagebuch (My War Diary), a vivid memoir of the war years.

In her diary, which was recently translated into English by Suzanne Hayes Fischer under the title Mother of Eagles: The War Diary of Baroness von Richthofen (Schiffer Military History, 2001), the Baroness recalls her son's last visit home in January 1918. He was killed three months later, on the 21st of April. The excerpt below is used with permission. Together we inspected the pictures that Manfred had brought along from the Front. A very fine photo showed a group of young flying officers—his comrades from the first air action in Russia. In the center below them was Manfred. I looked at the picture of all the laughing young men and was pleased with it. "What has become of him?" I pointed to the first: "Fallen." I indicated the second: "Also dead," and his voice sounded harsh. "Ask no further—they are all dead." All dead—except Manfred. As if he read my thoughts from my forehead: "You don't need to worry. In the air I have nothing to fear—not in the air.

We can cope with them, even if there were many more." And after a pause: "The worst that could happen to me would be if I had to land on the other side." He strode to the window. Lost in thought, his eyes looked outside, as if they saw something in the far distance. "I certainly believe that the English would behave decently toward you." It was a long time before he answered. He still stared out of the window. Then it came slowly from his lips—as if he didn't wish to discuss it further: "I believe it too." Now ask no further, said a voice within me. If someone stands before one, who is so near to death, who stares him in the eye more than once every day—and this someone is one's own child—then one is careful and discreet with every word. Should one admonish? That is useless, they do their best anyhow. Should one pass on fears or worries to them? That would be intolerable for them. Should one complain? No, I could not do that, I could not act so small and wretched.

So one keeps silent, one seeks to savor the moment, to enjoy the presence of the other, one was happy, as one must be with young men who spend a short couple of leave-days in the homeland and should like to think back on them—not encumbered with the thought of a sorrowful mother at home. In this mind (of course, never spoken aloud) we always relished the visits of our young warriors. That way, one also had the greatest understanding with them; they became open and happy, they loved to be around us all the more. Together we went to Rankau for my sister's birthday. I said to Manfred: "You have already vanquished your opponents 62 times in aerial combat. Such an individual achievement is without example. Already now your name is immortal." "I think he has seen death too often." Manfred said nothing, only a small, melancholy smile passed over his mouth. What he thought—I knew not. He was serious—very serious—and quiet. I found Manfred very changed, anyhow.

Although he looked healthier and fresher compared to when he was on leave in the fall, certainly the high spirits—the lightheartedness—the playfulness—were lacking in his character. He was taciturn, aloof, almost unapproachable; every one of his words seemed to come from an unknown distance. Why this change? The thought haunted me, turned over and over, while the wheels beneath me pounded monotonously, as if they had their own language. I think he has seen death too often. I pulled myself back into my corner and kept quiet. Listened to the relentless pounding of the wheels. One word would not get out of my mind, I wanted to banish it, scolded myself over it, over my despondency; but it kept on turning: Manfred needed to go to the dentist, to have some sort of small, everyday treatment done. Then he said quietly to himself—but I still heard it: "Actually, there is really no point in it any more." There was the word before me like a haunting ghost and would not be banished. Even the wheels under me beat it out on the rails in rattling, imperturbable tempo.

I closed my eyes, did it as if I wanted to rest. Actually, none of his movements eluded me. How hard his features had become; only the well-chiselled mouth, which could laugh so amiably, still retained the old charm. Something painful lay around the eyes and temples, something that was hard to explain. Was it the presentiment of the future—the serious outcome of the war that he feared, that threw its shadows over him? Or was it indeed only an after-effect of the deep head wound that he had received in the summer?! Certainly—he had never complained, but for a time it had crippled all his strength. He had looked altered; very wretched and sensitive, as I saw him again at that time. That was now past. But the solemnity, the formality, almost dignity, the enigma had taken his place. This feature originally appeared on the site for the NOVA program Who Killed the Red Baron? . Related Links The Red Fighter Pilot This on-line edition of Manfred von Richthofen's 1917 book Der Rote Kampfflieger is based on the English language version originally translated by J.

Ellis Barker and published in 1918 under the name The Red Battle Flyer. The book was published while World War One still raged and suffered somewhat from the propaganda and censorship of the time. Unfortunately Captain von Richthofen  famously known as The Red Baron  did not survive the war, and so this is the only work of its kind directly attributable to him. His own opinion of the book was that it was too insolent, and before his death he wrote that he was no longer that type of person. The original 1918 English edition preface is also interesting. It reveals much about attitudes which had changed little during four bloody years of war. The concept of honorable death at the hands of a "worthy" opponent was still very strong, even toward the end of the war. Copyright © 1996-2003 by The War Times Journal at . All rights reserved.

Question: What was the nickname of pilot Manfred von Richthofen?
Answer: The Red Baron