Manfred von Richthofen - " Um ás dos ares "

The Red Baron was one of those heroes whose life seems almost scripted. Discipline, pride, hunting skills, and Teutonic patriotism all combined in this man, bringing him to the pinnacle of fame which long outlasted the man himself. "Curse you, Red Baron," cried Snoopy, the Mitty-esque canine ace of Charles Schultz' Peanuts comic strip. But Richthofen was no caricature, methodically claiming 80 aerial victories, before falling himself, in a Wagnerian finale. YouthBorn on May 2, 1892 to a Prussian noble family, junker landholders, Manfred von Richthofen, learned to hunt at an early age. Growing up in Silesia (now part of Poland) young Manfred learned from his father, a Uhlan career officer, and his maternal Schickfuss relatives. In the protected game forests, he and his brothers, Lothar and Bolko, hunted wild boar, elk, birds, and deer, collected and displayed their trophies. Later, the great ace would bring the same love of the hunt and love of victory to his aerial battles. He entered the Prussian cadet corps (military school) at age eleven, where he was an indifferent student. In 1911, he entered Uhlan Regiment Number 1, which he enjoyed, at least insofar as the opportunities it gave him to ride horses. He first fought on the Russian front, where the highlight of his cavalry exploits seemed to be capturing and locking up a Russian priest in his own bell tower. Transferred to the West, his Uhlan regiment spent several enjoyable, peaceful months in the rear areas. An assignment to the quartermaster corps didn't satisfy Richthofen. "My dear Excellency," he wrote, "I have not gone to war to collect cheese and eggs ..." He asked to serve with a flying unit. In May, 1915, his request was granted. FlierSoon, he was back in the East, as a reconnaissance flier and then a bomber. During June, July and August, 1915, he remained with the 69th Flying Squadron which participated in Mackensen's advance from Gorlice to Brest-Litovsk. He had joined it as quite a junior observer and he had no special expertise. As a cavalryman his business had consisted in reconnoitering. So the Aviation Service as an observer was in his line and he enjoyed the long reconnoitering flights which they undertook nearly every day. Still dissatisfied, he complained again and was removed to Ostend on the Western front, as a back-seat observer in a reconnaissance plane. With pilot Lt. Zeumer, they patrolled over the North Sea, and once spotted a submarine beneath the water, but did not bomb it as they could not determine its nationality. His first encounter with an English airplane, on September 15, 1915, ended without real damage to either plane; but gunner Richthofen and pilot Zeumer both thought that the other could have handled the combat better. Transferred to the Champagne front, he flew with pilot Osteroth. With his ring-mounted machine gun, he managed to shoot down a Farman aircraft, but could not get credit for the kill, as it fell behind Allied lines. His hunter's instinct had been awakened. Still determined to join the great hunt in the skies, he started pilot training in October, 1915, making his first solo on the 10th. He damaged the plane on landing and had to take more training at Doberitz. On Christmas Day, 1915, he passed his examination. In connection with it, he flew to Schwerin, where the Fokker works are situated. From Schwerin flew to Breslau, to Schweidnitz, to Luben and then returned to Berlin. During his tour, he landed in many places in between, visiting relatives and friends. Being a trained observer, he did not find it difficult to find his way. In March, 1916, he joined KampfGeswchader 2 before Verdun and learned learned how to handle a fighting two-seater airplane. Assigned a two-seat Albatros BII reconnaissance plane (max speed 66 MPH, 100 HP engine, ceiling 9,840 feet), he rigged a machine gun on the upper wing, much like the Nieuport 11. Piloting this Albatros over Verdun on April 26, 1916, he sighted a French Nieuport and opened up at 60 yards. The stricken French fighter dived into Fort Douamont; Von Richthofen had his first kill, although he would gain no official credit. While in France, he had a few opportunities to fly a Fokker single-seat fighter, further whetting his appetite to fly fighters. Again switched back to the Russian front, he continued to fly "C" class recon/light bombers. As the Russians had few planes, flying and bombing there was agreeable duty, relatively safe and with readily accomplished missions, like bombing the Manjewicze railway station, strafing Cossack cavalry, knocking out the Stokhod River bridge, etc.. In August, he met the great ace Oswald Boelcke (40 kills), who was in the East recruiting fliers for a new Jagdstaffel (Jasta 2). After a brief interview, Boelcke took Richthofen back with him, to the Somme. Boelcke's Pupil While the well-organized British air arm held command of the air over the bloody battlefield of the Somme, Boelcke's new group, Jasta 2, made an immediate impact. On Sept. 17, 1916, in Jasta 2's first mission, the baron shot down an FE-2 two-seater. (Built by the Royal Aircraft Factory, FE-2's frequently fell to von Richthofen. The FE-2 biplane featured a pusher propeller, mounted aft of the short pod containing the observer, the pilot, and the 160HP Beardmore engine. Used both as a fighter and a reconnaissance plane, both of its crew had a machine gun, giving it a certain strength in redundancy.) On the morning of the 17th, Boelcke led his squadron up and spotted the English planes first. They were heading toward Cambrai, with Jasta 2 between them and their own lines. Richthofen approached one, maneuvering to get behind it, where he would have the advantage. The English pilot twisted and turned expertly, but briefly let Richthofen behind him. Richtofen described the action:. In a fraction of a second I was at his back with my excellent machine. I gave a few bursts 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 his propeller 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 one of our squadrons. I was so excited that I landed also and in my eagerness, I nearly smashed up my machine. The English airplane and my own stood close together. 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. For the next month, Jasta 2 "found a happy hunting ground over the Somme battlefield." Ironically, Boelcke did not live long to enjoy the success of his new elite Jasta. He was killed in early November, in a collision with another German flier; von Richthofen carried the great ace's decorations on a pillow in his funeral. By Nov. 9, von Richtofen had increased his score to ten. Death of Major Hawker, V.C.Like any great hunter, Manfred von Richthofen reveled in bagging the largest game. On November 23, 1916, he encountered Major Lanoe George Hawker, V.C., "the British Boelcke," in Richthofen's words, big game indeed. Hawker was one of the first fliers to take a pistol with him in the air and was also the first to arm an early Bristol scout with a Lewis gun. He downed a German two-seater over Ypres in July, 1915. Flying constantly, he downed one German plane after another. (In those early days, British records of aerial victories were not kept as carefully as later.) Hawker was decorated with the Victoria Cross and given command of Number 24 squadron. On the morning of the 23rd, Hawker led three planes in an attack on some German two-seaters. But it was an ambush. The bait promptly fled, while Richthofen's fighters dived after the British fliers. Lieutenants Andrews and Saunders were hit, but managed to escape. Hawker stayed to fight; against him were Richthofen and the best pilots of Jasta 2. Starting at 6,000 feet, the airplanes tore at each other, twisting and turning in descending circles, down to 2,000 feet. Desperate to gain an advantage, Hawker looped and got off a burst. He missed and fled for home, now at tree-top level. But the German aircraft was faster and Richthofen was determined. In Richthofen's own words: Our speed is terrific. [Hawker] starts back for his front. He knows my gun barrel is trained on him. He starts to zigzag, making sudden darts right and left, confusing my aim and making it difficult to train my gun on him. But the moment is coming. I am fifty yards behind him. My machine gun is firing incessantly. We are hardly fifty yards above the ground - just skimming it. Now I am within thirty yards of him. He must fall. The gun pours out its stream of lead. Then it jams. Then it reopens fire. That jam almost saved his life. One bullet goes home. He is struck through the back of the head. His plane jumps and crashes down. It strikes the ground just as I swoop over. His machine gun rammed itself into the earth, and now it decorates the entrance over my door [to the family home at Schweidnitz]. He was a brave man, a sportsman, and a fighter. Hawker was Richthofen's eleventh victim. Another order went to his Berlin silversmith, for a plain, silver cup, just two inches high, engraved briefly with the aircraft and date of his victory. The Flying CircusAfter victory number 16, he was awarded the Pour le Mérite (the Blue Max). He then organized his own Jagdstaffel 11, dubbed by journalists "The Flying Circus." His qualities showed. He was methodical; he figured the odds; with mathematical precision, he calculated position, angles, and fire control to kill his prey. He led his group with order and discipline, requiring his fliers to study and follow his tactics. About this time (late 1916), he painted his aircraft red, and began to be known as "The Red Baron." But even Richtofen, in his new all-red Albatros D III, didn't always have it his own way. On January 23, 1917, the Richthofen Circus pounced on some British camera planes of the 25th Squadron (FE-2 two-seater, pusher planes). Richthofen fired into an airplane piloted by Capt. Grieg, with 2nd. Lt. J. E. MacLenan as observer. His bullets tore into Grieg's leg, who struggled heroically to regain control of the aircraft. Oil splattered all over the wounded craft. MacLenan tossed the camera over and began firing his Lewis gun. He and the nearly blinded Grieg kept shooting back at the relentless Red Baron, and eventually their bullets crippled the Albatros, cracking its wing. Both aircraft crash-landed near Vimy. As German infantry approached, Grieg fired a flare pistol into his downed plane, setting it afire, thus denying it to the Germans. In mid-March, he got it again, this time when his group of five planes attacked fifteen British machines over Lens. As the enemies had seen each other at a great distance, both groups flew right at each other for several nerve-tingling minutes. When one of the British scouts peeled off, Richthofen thought he had an easy kill. Closing to fifty meters on the straggler, he test-fired his guns, and calmly planned his enemy's destruction. He suddenly realized that he had been ambushed when his Albatros was hit by machine gun fire. His fuel tank was holed, so he switched off his engine promptly. Even one drop on the hot engine could have fatally ignited his plane. He managed to bring his aircraft down behind German lines, but had difficulty persuading an officer that he had, in fact, shot down twenty-four airplanes. By March 26, 1917, the Baron had downed thirty-one Allied planes. He had become a cold, ruthless hunter and killer; machine guns helpless pilots of crashed aircraft and blasting his victims as they tried to escape the cockpits of doomed airplanes. He carried with him a gruesome photograph of a British flier he had horribly shot apart, the photograph given to him by an admiring German infantry colonel. Bloody AprilThe British airmen were obsessed with the Red Baron and were determined to destroy him, one way or another. On April 5, they planned a massive bombing raid on his aerodrome at Douai. German intelligence alerted Richthofen, but he choose to stay put. A few hours before the raid was due, he and his senior pilots sat down to a splendid dinner. While they puffed their after-dinner cigars, the phone rang, "English bombers on the way." In the dugout bomb shelter, he entertained his men with wine, ribald stories, jokes, and tales of aerial combat. Meanwhile, no British bombers came over. Finally, seventeen of the bombers found the Baron's field and loosed their destruction. The bombs found fuel and ammunition stores, setting huge explosions. The hangars were hit by the second wave. But Manfred von Richthofen and his crack pilots were unhurt. In the month of April, Jasta 11 shot down 89 British airplanes. As winter weather had cleared, both sides were able to fly a lot. The Germans could employ their group fighting tactics. And their Albatros D.III scouts over-matched the British pusher biplanes and the French Nieuport 11's. Manfred von Richthofen alone claimed 20 in the month. Wounded, July 1917The German press, eager for any good news or for any hero from the mindless, muck and blood-filled horror of the stagnant trenches, showered the Red Baron with adulation. After a short leave in May, he hurried back to rejoin The Flying Circus. By the end of June, 1917, his collection of little silver cups totalled fifty-six. Then, on July 2, he encountered the British RFC 20th Squadron, and two of its pilots: Flt. Cdr. A. E. Woodbridge and Capt. Pilot D. C. Cunnell. Woodbridge described the action: Cunnell handled the old FE for all she was worth, banking her from one side to the other, ducking dives from above and missing head-on collisions by bare margins of feet. The air was full of whizzing machines, and the noise from the full-out motors and the crackling machine guns was more than deafening ... Cunnell and I fired into four of the Albatroses from as close as thirty yards, and I saw my tracers go right into their bodies. Those four went down ... Some of them were on fire - just balls of smoke and flame - a nasty sight to see. Two of them came at us head-on, and the first one was Richthofen. There wasn't a thing on that machine that wasn't red, and how he could fly! I opened fire with the front Lewis and so did Cunnell with the side gun. Cunnell held the FE on her course and so did the pilot of the all-red scout [Richthofen]. With our combined speeds, we approached each other at 250 miles per hour ... I kept a steady stream of lead pouring into the nose of that machine. Then ... The Albatros' pointed her nose down suddenly and passed under us. Cunnell banked and turned. We saw the all-red plane slip into a spin. It turned over and over, round and round, completely out of control. His motor was going full on, so I figured I had at least wounded him. As his head was the only part that wasn't protected by his motor, I thought that's where he was hit. Indeed, a British bullet had creased and partially splintered his skull. Despite the best treatment available for the national hero, the wound never properly healed; the scar tissue, bone splinters and even thorns continued to cause Richthofen maddeningly painful headaches. He went home on leave, but when he returned, his skills were off. He went two weeks without a kill. By September, now flying the famous red Fokker Dr.I triplane, he had recovered enough to reach the 60 victory milestone, an unprecedented achievement. Fokker Dr. 1, built 1917, powered by Thulin-built Le Rhone 9J 9-cylinder air-cooled rotary 110 HP engine, weighed 1,289 lbs., max. speed of 103 MPH, max. ceiling of 19,685 feet, 2 synchronized Spandau machine guns Winter, 1917-18After a Christmas leave, hunting in the Bialowicka forest with Lothar, he resumed his pursuit of aerial quarry. When he downed 2nd Lt. H. J. Sparks, his 64th, he sent the hospitalized British flier a box of cigars. In March and April of 1918, he shot down 17 airplanes, while flying his trademark all-red Fokker Triplane. Richthofen's last victory was number 80; Lt. D. E. Lewis walked away from his wreck. Last DogfightCanadian Capt. Roy Brown led a flight fifteen Sopwith Camels on the morning of April 21, 1918, flying cover for some photo planes. When some Fokkers and Albatroses jumped the camera planes, a huge dogfight ensued, over thirty planes twisting, shooting, and tearing at each other. A scarlet Albatros got behind a young Canadian, Lt. Wilford May. Seeing his plight, Capt. Brown went after the Baron, firing his Lewis gun. And then the aircraft of the Red Baron, Manfred von Richthofen, dived and crashed near Sailly-le-Sac, an area held by Australian infantry. The Aussies immediately recovered the plane and were astonished to discover inside Richtofen's body. Almost as quickly, the event became the subject of confusion. The low-key Captain Brown never officialy claimed the kill; and some Australian gunners did. To this day, no one knows for sure who brought down the greatest ace of The Great War. FuneralThe British decided to hold a grand funeral for their late adversary. Laid out on a lorry, covered with flowers, escorted by RAF officers, his body was taken to a hangar, where it lay in state for a day. Hundreds of British soldiers filed past to view the Red Baron. The next day, the burial itself was another military pageant, with six RAF Captains as pallbearers, a fourteen-man firing party with rifles reversed, a flower-draped coffin, a service conducted by a robed chaplain, and a bugler blowing "The Last Post." Photographs were taken of the funeral, and British planes dropped them over his airdrome at Cappy with the message: TO THE GERMAN FLYING CORPS:Rittmeister Baron Manfred von Richthofen was killed in aerial combat on April 21st, 1918. He was buried with full military honours. From the British Royal Air Force Summary of VictoriesVon Richthofen's eighty victories have been as well-researched as any fighter pilot's claim. See this detailed list of The Red Baron's Kills. A surprisingly large percentage of his 80 kills can be matched to specific British loss records. Most of his victories came in the spring. In March/April of 1917, he downed 31 planes. In the same two months of 1918, he downed 17 aircraft. During most other months of active flying (from Sept. 1916 through April 1918), he usually claimed 3 to 6 kills each month. In the three months Aug., Sept., and Nov. 1917, while recovering from his injury, he only shot down 6 planes altogether.

Os Irmãos Richthofen, cavaleiros do céu - Manfred e Lothar

« Triplano usado pelos Richthofen´s Manfred e Lothar Richthofen » Os pilotos de caça da Iª Guerra Mundial, de ambos os lados do conflito, foram vistos na época como os últimos cavaleiros, representantes tardios da ética das ordens guerreiras medievais. Dentro do possível, num combate em terra cruel e impiedoso, no qual crescentemente usou-se a artilharia pesada, a metralhadora, o lança-chamas e o gás venenoso, eles procuram preservar os altos do espaço azul como um local onde ainda poderia praticar-se, sem traições ou perfídias, o bom combate. Entre eles, destacaram-se os irmãos Richthofen, Manfred e Lothar, os cavaleiros do céu. Lutando no ar Manfred von Richthofen (1892-1918) E doravante os dois irmãos [Manfred e Lothar Richthofen] que eram o orgulho da Alemanha encontram-se reunidos no Walhalla.Coroa funerária no enterro de Lothar von Richthofen, em Shweindnitz, 1922 Recolhido a um hospital militar em Cambrai, na França, em abril de 1918, nos finais da Iª Guerra Mundial, Lothar von Richthofen, irmão mais novo do célebre ás alemão Manfred von Richthofen , recuperava-se de um dos tantos ferimentos que recebera nos seus três últimos anos como audaz piloto de guerra. Por isso ele nada pode fazer quando soube que o seu famoso irmão fora abatido, não longe dali, no vale do Somme no dia 21 de abril. Os irmãos, inseparáveis, tinham entrado praticamente juntos na Luftflotte, a força área do II º Reich alemão, em 1915, vindos do regimento dos Ulanos. Transferidos para o fronte ocidental, Manfred, um descendente da nobreza prussiana - a casta guerreira dos junkers - , nascido em Breslau em 1892, viu na aviação, força então recém organizada, um legítimo sucedâneo para seu desejo de glória. Trocou o cavalo por um aeroplano: um triplano Albatroz da Fokker. A aeronáutica, naqueles tempos heróicos, logo tornou-se a arma favorita da juventude aristocrática. Na verdade, repugnava-os a idéia de terem que conviver ombro a ombro com a soldadesca nas trincheiras, em meio à lama e aos excrementos. Pior ainda, horror dos horrores, parecia-lhes morrer anônimos, simples número em meio aquela multidão de cadáveres empilhados ao lado das trincheiras que a guerra estava produzindo em escala industrial. Para aqueles super-homens nietzscheanos que a aviação atraía, era somente nos céus é que se dava a boa luta. Manfred e Lothar, como seus congêneres ingleses, franceses e italianos, acreditavam que os duelos entre os pilotos eram a maneira deles preservarem os honoráveis costumes dos valentes medievais. Os Fokker, os Sopwith Camel, os Havilland, os Nieuport que pilotavam substituíam em definitivo as cavalgaduras. O ronco dos motores faziam com que esquecessem os relinchos. Viam-se versões modernas de Lancelote, de Orlando Furioso ou de Götz von Berlichingen. Era como que cavalgar Pégaso, o ginete alado. Caçadores implacáveis O Barão Vermelho e sua condecoração , a Blaue Max Manfred, que logo revelou-se um caçador implacável, para assombrar ainda mais os inimigos - espantando-os ou atraindo-os para a liça - pintou o seu Albatroz de vermelho. Os ingleses, seus adversários mais tenazes, admirando-lhes as façanhas, batizaram-no de o Barão Vermelho. Entre outras razões, por sua ética em combate. Promovido a Rittmeister, a capitão da cavalaria, Richthofen jamais atirava num rival abatido que saltasse de pára-quedas. Incendiado o aparelho ou embicado para o solo, dilacerado, ele não perseguia o piloto. Ferido o cavalo, deixava que o destino cuidasse do cavaleiro. Fez fama de ser leal e generoso adversário. O registro dos inimigos derrubados por ele quando comandante da Jasta 11 - a esquadrilha apelidada de O Circo Voador - , foi impressionante: em 1916 foram 15 aviões , em 1917 saltou para 46, e, no primeiro trimestre de 1918, até sua morte, mais 17. Ao todo quase 80! A imprensa e o povo alemão idolatraram-no. O Kaiser Guilherme II, encantado, condecorou-o com a Pour le Mérite, a ordem que Frederico o Grande criara para honrar Voltaire. Lothar, cujo Albatroz pintara de amarelo, depois de destruir 40 aeronaves em apenas 70 dias de combate, por igual foi agraciado com a Blaue Max. Por vezes, a dupla era arrastada para a retaguarda, para estarem presentes nas exaltadas cerimônias patrióticas onde eram apontados aos quatro cantos da Alemanha como símbolos nacionais da coragem e da iniciativa. Estiveram, a convite do Kaiser, presentes em Brest-Litovsk, em março de 1918, para assistir os bolcheviques assinarem a paz com os imperialistas alemães. Estando perto de casa, em Schweidnitz, a propriedade da família na Silésia, recordando os tempos de adolescência, não resistiram a embrenharem-se numa caçada local. Foi a última que fizeram juntos. No mês seguinte Manfred morreria aos 26 anos, e Lothar, o seu escudeiro que o sobreviveu, foi vitima de um acidente aéreo civil em 4 de julho 1922, aos 27 anos. E assim os Richthofen , cavaleiros do céu, foram-se para sempre galopar no reino das nuvens. in Copyright 2003,Terra Networks, S.A

The "Red Baron" Scores Two Victories - " Retalhos biográficos I " ABRIL Sangrento 1917

With 80 confirmed kills, Baron Manfred von Richthofen was World War One's highest scoring combat pilot and its most famous flyer. He began his military career as a cavalryman but switched to the air corps in 1915 first as an observer and then as a fighter pilot. He scored his first combat kill in September of 1916.

Baron Manfred von Richthofen, 1917

Richthofen became Germany's top-scoring living ace in January 1917 after shooting down his 16th victim. He was awarded the Orden Pour le Merite (the famous "Blue Max"), Germany's highest military honor and given command of his own unit populated with the cream of the crop of Germany's combat pilots. In order to distinguish himself to his fellow flyers and to ground troops, Richthofen painted his plane a blazing red, earning the name the "Red Baron" from his British opponents. Richthofen's comrades followed suit and painted their planes with unique colors prompting the British to refer to Richthofen's unit as the "Flying Circus".

By the spring of 1918 the Red Baron had shot down 80 victims. His luck was about to run out. On April 21 he chased what would have been kill number 81 far behind the British lines. The grim ballet between hunter and hunted brought both planes closer and closer to the ground. With his quarry firmly in his sights, the Red Baron was suddenly felled by a single bullet coming either from troops on the ground or from a Canadian pilot flying in hot pursuit and desperately trying to save his comrade.

The British buried their famous opponent the following day with full military honors. Richthofen was 25 years old.

"He paid for his stupidity with his life."

The early spring of 1917 brought dark days for the Royal Flying Corps fighting on the Western Front. Nine hundred twelve British flyers died that month which became known as "Bloody April." Richthofen accounted for 21 of the British planes shot down - his highest scoring month. Richthofen's diary describes the events of one of those April days:

"The second of April, 1917, was a very warm day for my Squadron. From my quarters I could clearly hear the drum-fire of the guns which was again particularly violent.

I was still in bed when my orderly rushed into the room and exclaimed: 'Sir, the English are here!' Sleepy as I was, I looked out of the window and, really, there were my dear friends circling over the flying ground. I jumped out of my bed and into my clothes in a jiffy. My Red Bird had been pulled out and was ready for starting. My mechanics knew that I should probably not allow such a favorable moment to go by un-utilized. Everything was ready. I snatched up my furs and then went off.

I was the last to start. My comrades were much nearer to the enemy. I feared that my prey would escape me, that I should have to look on from a distance while the others were fighting. Suddenly one of the impertinent fellows tried to drop down upon me. I allowed him to come near and then we started a merry quadrille. Sometimes my opponent flew on his back and sometimes he did other tricks. He had a double-seated chaser. I was his master and very soon I recognized that he could not escape me.

During an interval in the fighting I convinced myself that we were alone. It followed that the victory would accrue to him who was calmest, who shot best and who had the clearest brain in a moment of danger. After a short time I got him beneath me without seriously hurting him with my gun. We were at least two kilometers from the front. I thought he intended to land but there I had made a mistake. Suddenly, when he was only a few yards above the ground, he once more went off on a straight course. He tried to escape me. That was too bad. I attacked him again and I went so low that I feared I should touch the roofs of the houses of the village beneath me. The Englishman defended himself up to the last moment. At the very end I felt that my engine had been hit. Still I did not let go. He had to fall. He rushed at full speed right into a block of houses.

There was little left to be done. This was once more a case of splendid daring. He defended himself to the last. However, in my opinion he showed more foolhardiness than courage. This was one of the cases where one must differentiate between energy and idiocy. He had to come down in any case but he paid for his stupidity with his life.

I was delighted with the performance of my red machine during its morning work and returned to our quarters. My comrades were still in the air and they were very surprised, when, as we met at breakfast, I told them that I had scored my thirty-second

Pilots of Richthofen's squadron surround him as he sits in his all-red Albatros D.III. Richthofen's brother, Lothar, sits in the foreground. April 1917.

machine. A very young Lieutenant had 'bagged' his first aeroplane. We were all very merry and prepared everything for further battles. I then went and groomed myself. I had not had time to do it previously. I was visited by a dear friend, Lieutenant Voss of Boelcke's Squadron. We chatted. Voss had downed on the previous day his twenty-third machine. He was next to me on the list and is at present my most redoubtable competitor.

When he started to fly home I offered to accompany him part of the way. We went on a roundabout way over the Fronts. The weather had turned so bad that we could not hope to find any more game.

Beneath us there were dense clouds. Voss did not know the country and he began to feel uncomfortable. When we passed above Arras I met my brother who also is in my squadron and who had lost his way. He joined us. Of course he recognized me at once by the color of my machine.

Suddenly we saw a squadron approaching from the other side. Immediately the thought occurred to me: 'Now comes number thirty-three.' Although there were nine Englishmen and although they were on their own territory they preferred to avoid battle. I thought that perhaps it would be better for me to re-paint my machine. Nevertheless we caught them up. The important thing in aeroplanes is that they are speedy.

I was nearest to the enemy and attacked the man to the rear. To my greatest delight I noticed that he accepted battle and my pleasure was increased when I discovered that his comrades deserted him. So I had once more a single fight. It was a fight similar to the one which I had had in the morning. My opponent did not make matters easy for me. He knew the fighting business and it was particularly awkward for me that he was a good shot. To my great regret that was quite clear to me.

A favorable wind came to my aid. It drove both of us into the German lines. My opponent discovered that the matter was not so simple as he had imagined. So he plunged and disappeared in a cloud. He had nearly saved himself.

I plunged after him and dropped out of the cloud and, as luck would have it, found myself close behind him. I fired and he fired without any tangible result. At last I hit him. I noticed a ribbon of white benzine vapor. He had to land for his engine had come to a stop.

He was a stubborn fellow. He was bound to recognize that he had lost the game. If he continued shooting I could kill him, for meanwhile we had dropped to an altitude of about nine hundred feet. However, the Englishman defended himself exactly as did his countryman in the morning. He fought until he landed. When he had come to the ground I flew over him at an altitude of about thirty feet in order to ascertain whether I had killed him or not. What did the rascal do? He took his machine-gun and shot holes into my machine.

Afterwards Voss told me if that had happened to him he would have shot the airman on the ground. As a matter of fact I ought to have done so for he had not surrendered. He was one of the few fortunate fellows who escaped with their lives.

I felt very merry, flew home and celebrated my thirty-third aeroplane."

References: Richthofen's account appears in: Richthofen, Manfred, The Red Battle Fighter (translated by T. Ellis Barker) (1917); Burrows, William E., Richthofen; a true history of the Red Baron (1969); Reynolds, Quentin, They Fought for the Sky (1957).

How To Cite This Article: "The Red Baron Scores Two Victories, 1917," EyeWitness to History, www.eyewitnesstohistory.com (2005).

Aviões da Iª Grande Guerra ( WWI ) X

1918, Germany Fokker D. VII Having honed their aviation engineering skills by the final year of the war, the Germans released their best aircraft, Fokker's D. VII, less than a year before armistice. The Red Baron had championed the plane's design during its development phase, and in January 1918 he tested the plane in trials, though he was killed just days before it officially entered combat, in April of that year. Equipped with a state-of-the art BMW engine and a thick airfoil, the biplane behaved nimbly at all speeds—even at an almost standstill—and was credited with making expert pilots out of mediocre ones simply by virtue of its ease in the air.

Aviões da Iª Grande Guerra ( WWI ) IX

1917, Britain Sopwith Camel This famous biplane accounted for more aerial victories than any other Allied aircraft during the war, destroying over 1,200 enemy fighters. The plane acquired the name "Camel" from its twin Vickers .303 machine guns, which were housed in a camel-like "hump" at the front of the plane. Proud pilots liked to add that the aircraft also behaved like a camel: it seemed docile but was quick to bite when agitated. The plane's success was largely due to its extreme maneuverability, but these characteristics also killed many an inexperienced pilot in vicious spins.

Aviões da Iª Grande Guerra ( WWI ) VIII

1917, Germany Fokker Dr. I This triplane was the signature plane of Baron von Richthofen, whose red-painted model inspired his moniker, the "Red Baron." Modeled after the Sopwith Triplane, the German plane boasted all of the earlier plane's advantages. It was small, lightweight, and nimble, yet it could easily outclimb its opponents. A Dr. I pilot had excellent visibility from the cockpit, where he used special firing buttons to operate two synchronized 8-milimeter Spandau machine guns. These characteristics, along with the fact that Fokker had designed the plane without relying on the standard wing-bracing wires that were easily shot apart during combat, made it a superb dogfighter.

Aviões da Iª Grande Guerra ( WWI ) VII

1917 Germany Albatros D. III German manufacturer Albatros Works unveiled the Albatros D. III biplane in January 1917. The plane featured V-struts between its wings, which allowed for a shorter lower wing. Pilots of the Albatros could see their targets and the terrain below much more readily with this design, which gave them an edge in dogfights. Manfred von Richthofen, later dubbed the "Red Baron," was among the first to fly the Albatros, and he experienced firsthand its weakness: the V-struts could cause the lower wings to twist and crack apart in flight.

Aviões da Iª Grande Guerra ( WWI ) VI

1916 Britain Sopwith Triplane The Sopwith Triplane's stack of three wings combined ample wing area with a narrow width (or "chord"), giving it significantly more climbing power and maneuverability than its biplane counterparts. The Sopwith's pilots also enjoyed excellent visibility from its cockpit, the lack of which was a problem in many popular biplanes, including the SPAD VII. The triple-decker construction of this Sopwith profoundly influenced aircraft designs in other countries, particularly Germany. Within months of the Triplane's first flights nearly every German airplane manufacturer was hard at work designing a triplane of its own.

Aviões da Iª Grande Guerra ( WWI ) V

1916 France SPAD VII This French Air Service fighter, armed with a synchronized Vickers .303 machine gun, made its first combat flight in July 1916 and immediately showed great promise. Like the Nieuport 17 that it replaced, the plane was agile in the air, yet it was more rugged and could make steep, swift dives without disintegrating. Pilots of the Lafayette Escadrille, a group of American pilots who joined the Allied air effort in France, flew SPAD VII single-seaters almost exclusively from the time they officially joined the war effort in 1916.

Aviões da Iª Grande Guerra ( WWI ) IV

1916 France Nieuport 17 Gustave Delage's Nieuport 17 biplane made its debut in March 1916 and was a favorite of many Allied aces, including Englishman Philip Fullard, who scored 40 victories piloting his Nieuport 17. The plane was highly maneuverable and easily outperformed the Fokker Eindecker; within a few weeks of its debut, German high command ordered its engineers to copy the plane. Delage fitted the Nieuport 17 with a synchronized Vickers machine gun, the first Allied plane to feature this technology. The Nieuport was not without flaws, however, the most worrisome being a tendency to lose its lower wings in steep dives.

Aviões da Iª Grande Guerra ( WWI ) III

1915 Britain De havilland D.H.2 As an answer to the Fokker Eindecker, Geoffrey de Havilland designed the D.H.2 biplane, his second aircraft for the British Aircraft Manufacturing Company. The plane was a so-called "pusher"—its rear-mounted engine and propeller pushed the aircraft forward from the rear rather than pulling it from the front. This design enabled the D.H.2 to carry a fixed, forward-facing machine gun that did not interfere with the propeller. With its excellent climbing speed and high level of maneuverability, the D.H.2 helped end the "Fokker Scourge" by early 1916.

Aviões da Iª Grande Guerra ( WWI ) II

1915 Germany Fokker Eindecker This plane was a nearly exact copy of the Morane-Saulnier L, except that it featured aircraft designer Anthony Fokker's signature tail design and a synchronized machine gun firing mechanism, the first of its kind. Fokker fitted his Eindeckers with a forward-facing 8-millimeter gun, which could fire its bullets between the moving propeller blades without causing bullets to ricochet off them. Though the Eindeckers were underpowered and slow, their firing mechanism marked a major step forward in aerial combat and gave the Germans total air superiority during the 1915 "Fokker Scourge."

Aviões da Iª Grande Guerra ( WWI )

1913 France Morane -Saulnier L. The brothers Leon and Robert Morane designed this monoplane with fellow engineer Raymond Saulnier in 1913. The fragile L was meant for reconnaissance, but by the war's start Saulnier had attached steel plates to the plane's propeller, allowing the pilot to fire rounds from a fixed 8-millimeter Hotchkiss machine gun without bombarding the propeller. (The plates deflected bullets away from the propeller blades.) French ace Roland Garros tested the Morane-Saulnier L in April of 1915 and scored three victories in as many weeks. By month's end, the Germans had managed to capture the airplane (note the German insignia painted on the tail) and they began work on a copy.

Explore Competing Theoriesby Evan Hadingham Red Baron homepage Like the Kennedy assassination, the death of Manfred von Richthofen is clouded by dozens of often conflicting eyewitness accounts and has inspired a mountain of speculative theories. NOVA's "Who Killed the Red Baron?" is based partly on a notable recent investigation of those theories, The Red Baron's Last Flight, by Norman Franks and Alan Bennett. Another important recent book, The Many Deaths of the Red Baron, by Frank McGuire, surveys the literature supporting the competing claims. Below is a brief sampler of the many versions of the events of April 21, 1918, discussed in detail by these two sources. Mortally Wounded in Air Combat? The Royal Air Force (RAF) gave official credit for the Baron's death to No. 209 Squadron's Captain Roy Brown, whose combat report gives only the barest outline of the action: "Went back again and dived on pure red triplane which was firing on Lieut. May. I got a long burst into him and he went down vertical and was observed to crash by Lieut. Mellersh and Lieut. May." In 1927, after gaining access to British Air Ministry files, Floyd Gibbons published a vivid account of Brown's victory in his best-selling popular book, The Red Knight of Germany. That same year, a first-person narrative of the action, "My Fight With Richthofen," was published in Liberty magazine. Although supposedly in Brown's own words, the article was clearly influenced by Gibbons and embroidered by Liberty's copywriters. While these popular accounts of Brown's attack are of doubtful value, his claim is supported by testimony from another 209 Squadron Captain, O. C. LeBoutillier, and from a few key eyewitnesses on the ground. However, most recent analysts conclude that the attack came at least a minute before the Baron's final crash, probably too early to have inflicted the fatal wound. Murdered On the Ground? In 1925, a New York-based magazine called The Progressive published an article titled "Richthofen Was Murdered." The article reported rumors circulating in Germany that Richthofen had landed unscathed and that Canadian soldiers had jumped from their trenches and killed the Baron before he could climb out of his triplane. The rumors may have begun when German pilots from the Baron's "circus" reported witnessing the triplane's relatively smooth crash landing; at first, this fueled hopes that the Baron had been captured alive, and later, the speculation that he had been murdered. However, eyewitness accounts by the first ground troops to reach the crash site make this highly implausible. Chasing Two Sopwith Camels? In accounts collected in the 1930s, at least three eyewitnesses claimed that the Baron was pursuing two Sopwith Camels at the time he was brought down by ground fire. One of the most detailed of these claims was by Sergeant A. G. Franklyn, who was in charge of an Australian antiaircraft battery and claims to have shot down the Baron with his Lewis gun. Subsequent research has suggested that Franklyn probably confused the Red Baron's demise with his battery's downing of a German airplane the day after the Baron's death in a slightly different location. Shot Down by a Two-Seater? On the morning of April 21, 1918, the crew of two RE8 observation planes of the Australian Flying Corps' No. 3 Squadron reported a skirmish with two red-nosed Fokker triplanes. The squadron's commanding officer, Major D. V. J. Blake, submitted his squadron's report with other details implying that one of the attackers was Richthofen and that fire by an RE8 observer had brought the Baron down. However, the attack was at too high an altitude and too early to have been connected with the Baron's death. One explanation is that a pair of triplanes from the Baron's "circus," perhaps including the Baron himself, briefly dived on the two RE8s prior to encountering the Sopwith Camels of RAF No. 209 Squadron. An Unknown Rifleman on the Ground? P. J. Carisella and James W. Ryan's popular book Who Killed the Red Baron?, published in 1969, includes an account by Lieut. R. A. Wood of the 51st Battalion asserting that an unknown gunner from his unit brought down the Baron. "As soon as the planes had passed overhead my platoon opened up with rifle fire, and two sets of [Vickers] machine or Lewis guns on my left opened fire. Richthofen was seen to crash soon after one of these bursts." Another eyewitness interviewed in detail in 1975, Private V. J. Emery of 40th Battalion, supported Wood's claim. Emery believed that an unknown rifleman from Wood's platoon was in a better position to have fired the fatal shot than any of the other gunners in the area. Shot Down by a Machine Gunner on the Ground? NOVA's program focuses on the two best-known claims attributing Richthofen's death to machine gun fire from the ground. These were made by two different Australian antiaircraft crews who were stationed on the Morlancourt Ridge. In 1956, Gunner R. Buie, a Lewis gunner of the 53rd Battery, wrote to Australian newspapers about how he and Gunner W. J. Evans had opened fire on a German plane chasing a British one toward their position. "I started firing at the body of the German pilot directly through my peep sight," Buie wrote. "Fragments flew from the plane and it lessened speed. It came down a few hundred yards away." Most researchers reconstruct Buie and Evans' firing position as facing the oncoming triplane, making it unlikely that either could have fired the side-on shot that killed the Baron. Sergeant C. B. Popkin, a Vickers gunner with the 24th Machine Gun Company, was in a more plausible position had he fired, as he claimed, when the Baron gave up chasing May and turned back toward the German lines. According to Popkin's statement recorded soon after the event: "As it came towards me, I opened fire a second time and observed at once that my fire took effect. The machine swerved, attempted to bank and make for the ground, and immediately crashed. The distance from the spot where the plane crashed and my gun was about 600 yards." While Popkin's position seems the best match for the evidence of the Baron's wound, the long range and wide deflection angle required has led some to doubt the plausibility of his claim. Even Popkin himself had doubts; he told the Brisbane Courier in 1964 that "I am fairly certain it was my fire which caused the Baron to crash but it would be impossible to say definitely that I was responsible...As to pinpointing without doubt the man who fired the fatal shot the controversy will never actually be resolved."

Inside the Baron's Mind Red Baron homepage 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. —Peter Tyson 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 Böhme, to join his new fighter unit. Less than three months later, while chasing a British fighter, Boelcke and Böhme's planes collided. Böhme 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")." 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. 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.

Saturday, April 01, 2006 Manfred von Richthofen - The Red Baron (historical commentary) "As this month of April begins on a rainy note here in Montreal, perhaps it would be a good time to reflect back on another April day, April 21st, 1918. It was the last day of the Red Baron's life. He died at age twenty-five, the same type of sudden death he had dealt out to so many young Allied pilots and observers over the Western Front. He was both respected and feared by his enemies, in those last dying days of the age of chivalry. It was still a time of kings and queens, and luckily far removed from the last ring of Hell that the First World War had become on the ground. As men were dying in relative anonymity in the mud thousands of feet below them, the knights of the air lived a life in full public view. Man had only taken to the air fifteen years before, and the basic principles of air warfare were being written each and every day. They flew machines made of fabric and wood, machines that would sometimes break apart on their own in mid-air. The speeds at which they flew and fought were not much more than a cars speed on the highway today. The Fokker Triplane Richthofen died in had a maximum speed of about one hundred and five miles per hour, and cruised at about ninety. It weighed about thirteen hundred pounds, was about eighteen feet long, twenty three feet wide, and less than ten feet high. In battle, they fought close enough to see each others faces. In reading some of Richthofen's combat reports, one is struck by the fact that he is sometimes thirty feet or less away from his victim when he delivers the fatal blow.On some occasions he lands in time to assist in the removal of injured pilots, men he has himself shot, and he takes care of them with compassion and respect. He sometimes goes to their graves, and says a prayer for them. Here is account of his first kill, on the 17th September, 1915 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.A hunter in his youth, Richthofen kept trophies of his kills. He went out and had a small silver cup engraved with the details of each. On that day he died, eighty of them were on display in his room. On it's walls hung pieces of fabric from some of his victims planes that fell behind German lines. When he was at the rudder, and in the air, he was a part of a machine. His Fokker Triplane was notoriously unstable in the air, but in the hands of an expert pilot that weakness became a great strength. It's three wings allowed great lift and mobility, both things that increased a pilot's lifespan if used properly. This is how he spoke of the act of shooting down an enemy pilot. My father discriminates between a sportsman and a butcher. The latter shoots for fun. When I have shot down an Englishman my hunting passion is satisfied for a quarter of an hour. Therefore I do not succeed in shooting two Englishmen in succession. If one of them comes down I have the feeling of complete satisfaction. Only much, much later I have overcome my instinct and have become a butcher.Sometimes, in fact most times, those deaths were horrible. This is another account that might bring about a different view of that commonly used term " shot down in flames. " Once I was on the ground next to a benzine tank. It contained one hundred litres of benzine which exploded and burnt. The heat was so great that I could not bear to be within ten yards of it. One can therefore imagine what it means if a tank containing a large quantity of this devilish liquid explodes a few inches in front of one while the blast from the propeller blows the flame into one's face. I believe a man must lose consciousness at the very first moment. Sometimes miracles do happen. For in stance, I once saw an English aeroplane falling down in flames. The flames burst out only at an altitude of fifteen hundred feet. The whole machine was burning. When we had flown home we were told that one of the occupants of the machine had jumped from an altitude of one hundred and fifty feet. It was the observer. One hundred and fifty feet is the height of a good sized steeple. Supposing somebody should jump from its top to the ground, what would be his condition? Most men would break their bones in jumping from a first floor window. At any rate, this good fellow jumped from a burning machine at an altitude of one hundred and fifty feet, from a machine which had been burning for over a minute, and nothing happened to him except a simple fracture of the leg. Soon after his adventure he made a statement from which it appears that his nerve had not suffered.On July 6th 1917, the Red Baron came as close to death as one could come in those days, and still live to tell the tale. It was a wound that should have ended his flying career, but Richthofen could not desert the men of the squadron he lead, nor the cause he fought for.In his book, von Richthofen describes how he was about to attack a Vickers "bomber" and had not even taken the safety catch off his gun when the bomber's observer started to fire at a range of 300 m, a distance that von Richthofen considered to be too far away for "real" combat. In his own words, "the best marksman just does not hit the target at this distance". Suddenly there was a blow to his head and he was totally paralysed and blinded. After a great effort he was able to move his limbs again while sensing that his plane was in a dive; still he could not see. When the darkness slowly lifted he first checked his altimeter, which showed 800 m, a drop of 3200 m within a few moments. He reduced his altitude to 50 m and made a rough landing, when he realised he was going to faint again. He was able to get out of the plane and collapsed remembering only that he had fallen on a thistle and had not been able to move from the spot. After a drive of several hours in a motorcar he was taken to a field hospital.The history in his medical file is very similar, noting that he did not lose consciousness in the plane. "His arms fell down, legs moved to the front of the plane. The flying apparatus fell towards the ground. At the same time he had a feeling of total blindness and the engine sound was heard as if from a great distance. After regaining his senses and control over his limbs, he estimated that the time of paralysis lasted for only a minute. He descended to an altitude of 50 m to find an appropriate landing spot until he felt that he could no longer fly the aircraft. Afterwards he could not remember where he had landed. He left the plane and collapsed." His memory of his transportation to the hospital was blurred. Upon arrival von Richthofen immediately told his physician that he had only been able to retain control of the aircraft because he had had the firm conviction that otherwise he would have been a dead man.The initial diagnosis on reaching hospital was "machinegun (projectile) ricocheting from head". The stay in hospital was uneventful after surgery to ascertain that the bullet had not entered the brain.Von Richthofen stayed in the field hospital for 20 days until July 25, 1917 (figure 2). He left because he wanted to take command of his wing again. The skull wound was not closed, and the bare bone was probably visible until his death. He was advised not to fly until the wound in his head had healed completely. There is a special mention of the fact that even the surgeon in charge held this opinion in the medical file. It was also recorded that "without a doubt there had been a severe concussion of the brain and even more probable a cerebral haemorrhage. For this reason sudden changes in air pressure during flight might lead to disturbances of his consciousness". The record ends with the statement that von Richthofen promised not to resume flying before he had been given permission by a physician.A new chapter of The Red Air Fighter was added in the spring of 1918, in which von Richthofen mentioned his depression and melancholy when he thought about the future. He describes a totally different von Richthofen than the one who wrote the first edition of The Red Air Fighter. He feels unwell after each air combat and attributes this feeling to his head injury. After landing he stays in his quarters and does not want to see or to talk to anybody.At the end of January, 1918, when on another visit home, his mother noted the change in her son: she describes him as taciturn, distant, and almost unapproachable. She thought that he had changed because he had seen death too many times. And so, on that last April day of his life, burnt-out and physically weak, he violated his own air warfare rules. He was far behind enemy lines, far too low to the ground, and allowed himself to be caught in a crossfire of machine guns from both the young Canadian pilot behind him (Roy Brown), and an Australian anti-aircraft position as he fixated on the target flying yards in front of him.A discussion still continues to this very day as to who fired that fatal bullet. Like many of his victims, he probably never knew what hit him. A bullet pierced his heart, and the small frail red machine made an almost perfect landing on the ground below. Once the troops on the ground realized who had just been shot down, his plane was picked apart by eager souvenir hunters. The engine from his plane is an exhibit at the British War Museum. His body was lifted gently from it's seat, and he was given a full military funeral by the very same men he had spent most of his military life trying to kill. They treated him as one of their own, and that perhaps tells us how much the world has changed since that April day in 1917. After his burial, his body was moved three times. He finally returned home to Wiesbaden, to the family's burial plot in 1975. There he lies today, a symbol of an almost forgotten time when war was fought with rules, by men of honour. " posted by Montreal Guy 6:45 PM Blog no Canadá.

História do Fokker D.VII - Um outro Triplano usado pelo " Red Baron ". The Fokker D.VII is widely regarded as the best German aircraft of the war. Its development was championed by Manfred von Richthofen. In January 1918, Richthofen tested the D.VII in the trials at Adlershof but never had an opportunity to fly it in combat. He was killed just days before it entered service. When introduced, the D.VII was not without problems. On occasion its wing ribs would fracture in a dive and high temperatures sometimes ignited planes armed with phosphorus ammunition or caused their gas tanks to explode. Even so, the D.VII proved to be durable and easy to fly. As noted by one authority, it had "an apparant ability to to make a good pilot out of mediocre material." When equipped with the BMW engine, the D.VII could outclimb any Allied opponent it encountered in combat. Highly maneuverable at all speeds and altitudes, it proved to be more than a match for any of the British or French fighter planes of 1918.

História do FOKKER Dr 1 - Um dos Triplanos pilotados pelo " Barão Vermelho "

HISTORY Few aircraft of the World War I period have received the attention given the Fokker Dr.I triplane. Often linked with the career of the highest scoring ace of that war, Germany's Rittmeister Manfred von Richthofen, the nimble Dr. I earned a reputation as one of the best "dogfighters" of the war. The Fokker Dr. I was ordered into production on July 14, 1917, in response to the success earlier in that year of the British Sopwith Triplane. The first Dr. Is appeared over the Western Front in August, 1917. Pilots were impressed with its maneuverability, and several, including von Richthofen, soon scored victories with the highly maneuverable triplane. Nineteen of Richthofen's last 21 victories were achieved while he was flying the Dr. I. Fokker built 320 Dr. Is. For a brief period production was suspended while the wings were redesigned to prevent in-flight failures (Ouch!). By May 1918 the Dr I was being replaced by the newer and faster Fokker D VII. No known original Fokker Dr. Is have survived.

21 Abril 1918 - 88 º Aniversário da morte em combate de Manfred Von Richthofen - O " Barão Vermelho "

Fokker Dr 1

Manfred Von Richtofen

Triplano FOKKER de Manfred Von Richtofen - O " Barão Vermelho "

"Manfred Albrecht Freiherr Von Richthofen nasceu em 02 de maio de 1892 na cidade alemã de Breslau, hoje pertencente ao território Polonês. Sua família tinha uma tradição militar. Com onze anos entrou para a escola militar de Wahlstatt, passando posteriormente pela Academia Real Militar de Lichterfelde. Não gostava de estudar, mas era um grande atleta, gostava de se exercitar em barras paralelas e jogando futebol. Da ginástica passou a equitação, tornando-se um "RITTMEISTER" (Capitão) do Primeiro Regimento de Uhlands Imperador Alexandre III. Com o início da I Guerra Mundial, as batalhas começaram a ser levadas também para os céus, e emboar Richtofen houvesse entrado para a cavalaria, logo começou a mostrar curiosidade sobre os aviões. Pediu transferencia em maio de 1915 para o Serviço Aéreo e passou a participar de vôos de reconhecimento e bombardeios. Ele próprio dizia sentir um verdadeiro prazer em liquidar um inimigo. Seu primeiro instrutor de vôo foi o piloto Georg Zeumer, que acompanhou atento o primeiro vôo solo do futuro Ás, que acabou terminando em um pouso de manicaca, convertendo seu avião de instrução em sucata. O futuro caçador somente perdeu o pavor de voar exatamente no dia de natal de 1915. Nascia alí o grande terror dos aliados, principalmente dos Ingleses, com sua rara frieza o arquétipo do piloto militar ideal. Ele destacou-se por sua agressividade e, em pouco tempo, já derrubara 16 aviões franceses e ingleses, o que lhe rendeu a medalha de "honra ao mérito", maior condecoração militar do Império Alemão, e o posto de capitão de esquadra. Tratava seus adversários como animais selvagens e, às vezes, derrubava até dois ou três caças por dia. Richthofen obteve sua primeira vitória aérea oficialmente confirmada em 17 de setembro de 1916, abatendo uma aeronave inglesa. No ar, escolhia cuidadosamente sua presa, separando-a do grupo e jogando com as regras de seu grande instrutor, a "Dicta Boelcke". Tais táticas fizeram do novato manicaca um grande e temível caçador. Em 12 de janeiro de 1917, aos 24 anos de idade, já com 16 vitórias e como o maior ás alemão vivo, recebeu a Órdem " Pour Le Mérite" e o comando do Jasta XI, com base em Douai, França. Como líder e nada modesto em relação ao seu posto de Ás, diferenciou seu avião para que pudesse ser reconhecido pelos seus companheiros e pelos inimigos, evitando de ser abatido pelos próprios alemães, fato que muito ocorreu na Primeira Guerra. Pintou sua aeronave toda de vermelho, em homenagem a cor do estandarte de seu antigo regimento de cavalaria. Por esse fato recebeu o nome mundialmente conhecido de "Barão Vermelho". Foi seguido pelos outros pilotos do Jasta XI, que pintaram suas aeronaves com cores variadas, sendo o Jasta XI sendo posteriormente chamado de "O Circo Richthofen" ou "O Circo Voador". Na Primeira Guerra, os laços entre os aviadores superavam as barreiras da guerra. Entre eles prevaleciam as regras do cavaleirismo. Um grande exemplo deste cavaleirismo ocorreu com Richthofen. Na sua 61ª vitória, pousou em busca do avião abatido para pegar um pedaço para sua coleção, e encontrou o piloto inimigo, que foi levado para o Jasta XI e dedicou tratamento de convidado de honra.No dia 21 de abril de 1918, pouco antes de completar 26 anos de idade e seguinte ao de sua 80ª vitória, o grande ás cometeu o maior erro da sua vida. Durante uma batalha que envolvia 25 aeronaves alemãs e 15 aeronaves da RAF (Royal Air Force), Richthofen iniciou sua perseguição a baixa altitude a um Sopwith Camel pilotado pelo Segundo-Tenente Wilfred R. May, que estava ferido e mergulhou em direção ao Vale de Somme, França, para fugir. Neste mesmo local estavam as posições australianas, que descarregaram milhares de balas em sua direção. Um piloto canadense, Roy Brown, viu a investida do Barão Vermelho e iniciou uma caçada em defesa de seu companheiro May. Quando acreditou estar em posição de ataque, disparou uma rajada de 40 tiros. Não se sabe ao certo quem foi o autor do tiro que tirou a vida deste grande ás alemão, mas existiram depoimentos de que um soldado australiano, o Atirador 3801 Robert Buie, teria sido um dos autores deste tiro. Outro possível autor do tiro seria o soldado Cedric Popkin, que manejava uma metralhadora no local quando May passou no vôo rasante. Popkin disparou rajadas na direção de Richthofen, vendo-o colidir mais adiante.O corpo de Richthofen foi recolhido por soldados ingleses e sepultado com honras militares na França. Uma aeronave aliada soltou o bilhete em território alemão transmitindo o fato. Sete anos mais tarde, o cadáver foi exumado a pedido da família e sepultado, em Berlim, novamente com honras militares e grande participação popular em 18 de novembro de 1925. Réplicas do triplano Fokker estão expostas na maioria dos museus de tecnologia e aviação do mundo. Manfred von Richthofen virou nome de esquadras, quartéis, praças e ruas. Veteranos de guerra - não só da Alemanha - o admiram até hoje." in http://edairways.sites.uol.com.br/richtofen.htm 21 abril 2006

Calendário Histórico Abatido o "Barão Vermelho" - 21 abril 1918 Manfred von Richthofen com a Medalha de Honra ao Mérito A 21 de abril de 1918, foi morto o barão Manfred von Richthofen. Nascido a 2 de maio de 1892, na hoje Polônia, o "Barão Vermelho" foi o principal piloto alemão na Primeira Guerra Mundial, derrubando 80 aviões inimigos. Sua fama chegou a extrapolar as fronteiras alemãs. Nos Estados Unidos, Canadá, Grã-Bretanha e Austrália, ele tornou-se conhecido como The Red Baron (O Barão Vermelho). A companhia aérea Lufthansa ainda hoje aproveita a popularidade do Barão Vermelho em suas campanhas publicitárias no mercado norte-americano. O próprio Richthofen contou sua carreira de piloto de avião de caça num livro publicado em 1917. A primeira edição do Der rote Kampfflieger vendeu mais de 250 mil exemplares num ano e foi reeditado várias vezes. Escrita em estilo altamente arrogante, a biografia ajudou a criar o mito de um grande herói de guerra. A mãe de Richthofen descreveu a morte do piloto como o martírio de um jovem cheio de ideais e heroísmo. Como muitos dos filhos da nobreza da época, Richthofen ingressou no corpo de cadetes imperiais aos dez anos. Posteriormente, tornou-se oficial de cavalaria. A carreira de oficial permitiu-lhe continuar praticando sua maior paixão - a caça. Prazer em matar Com o início da Primeira Guerra Mundial, o exército alemão intensificou suas atividades de reconhecimento nos territórios inimigos. Richthofen pediu transferência para a recém-criada força aérea. Logo passou a participar de vôos de reconhecimento e bombardeios. Ele próprio dizia sentir um verdadeiro prazer em liqüidar um inimigo. Na primavera européia de 1916, o tenente Richthofen passou a receber a formação de piloto de caça. Ele destacou-se por sua agressividade e, em pouco tempo, já derrubara 16 aviões franceses e ingleses, o que lhe rendeu a Medalha de Honra ao Mérito, maior condecoração militar do Império Alemão, e o posto de capitão de esquadra. Tratava seus adversários como animais selvagens e, às vezes, derrubava até dois ou três caças por dia. Avião pequeno e ágil Richthofen foi também um dos primeiros a pilotar um triplano Fokker, que estreou nas frentes de batalha no outono de 1916. Era um avião de caça pequeno, a agilidade e a velocidade de decolagem eram sua principal arma. Em manobras, era impossível colocá-lo em mira, mas, se seguisse um rumo fixo, tornava-se alvo fácil. Isto foi o que provavelmente acabou com Richthofen. No dia 21 de abril de 1918, pouco antes de completar 26 anos, foi atingido pelas costas pelo piloto canadense Roy Brown, enquanto perseguia sua vítima de número 81. Seu corpo foi enterrado com honras militares. Sete anos mais tarde, o cadáver foi exumado a pedido da família e sepultado, em Berlim, novamente com honras militares e grande participação popular. A força aérea alemã perdeu 7,7 mil pilotos na Primeira Guerra Mundial. Réplicas do triplano Fokker (que Richthoffen havia mandado pintar em vermelho para provocar seus adversários) estão expostas na maioria dos museus de tecnologia e aviação do mundo. Manfred von Richthofen virou nome de esquadras, quartéis, praças e ruas. Veteranos de guerra - não só da Alemanha - o admiram até hoje. Werner Schwipps / gh 21Abril2006

A Primeira Guerra Mundial - Enquadramento Histórico.

A Primeira Guerra Mundial A Primeira GuerraMundial (também conhecida como Grande Guerra, Guerra das Guerras ou ainda como a Guerra para Acabar com Todas as Guerras) foi uma guerra ocorrida entre 1914 e 1918, e que envolveu principalmente os países europeus. Mas também houve conflitos no Oriente Médio, Ásia e África. Na guerra foi introduzida a utilização pela primeira vez de: Aviões de combateFoi utilizada pela primeira vez o avião para o bombardeio em massa, reconhecimento/espionagem e combate aéreo. Tanques de guerra Gases tóxicos Granadas Também ocorreram durante este conflito os primeiros genocídios do século XX. Nenhum conflito anterior mobilizou tantos soldados; nunca antes o número de baixas foi tão grande numa guerra. Muitas dessas mortes ocorreram pela ineficiência de alguns comandantes em se adaptar, e evoluir com o novo material e tácticas utilizadas, e por muito tempo se utilizou da velha estratégia: quanto mais homens, mais vitórias. A Primeira Guerra Mundial foi também uma guerra de mudança, o último abalo à antiga ordem européia, abrindo caminho para a nova ordem. Dinastias como a dos Habsburgos, Romanov e Hohenzollern, que vinham dominando politicamente a Europa e cujo poder tinha raízes nas Cruzadas, todas caíram durante os quatro anos de guerra. Muitos dos eventos e fenômenos que dominaram o século XX têm origem nesse conflito - incluindo a implementação do comunismo na Rússia, a Segunda Guerra Mundial e até mesmo a Guerra Fria. Esta guerra viria a terminar com o Tratado de Versalhes, assinado entre as nações da Aliança Tríplice Entente e Tríplice Aliança. A causa da guerra foi a crise Balcânica. A Sérvia queria incorporar estados da Áustria-Hungria como a Bósnia-Hezergovina. A primeira Guerra iniciou com o assassinato do Arqueduque austríaco Francisco Ferdinando por um nacionalista sérvio. (ver causas da I guerra mundial para mais informações). Panorama Sócio-cultural A Primeira Guerra Mundial rompeu definitivamente com a antiga ordem mundial, marcando a derrubada do absolutismo monárquico na Europa. Serviu como evento catalisador para a Revolução Russa, revolução essa que inspirou outras em países tão diferentes como China e Cuba, e que serviu também como base para a Guerra Fria, conflito entre a União Soviética e os EUA. A derrota da Alemanha na guerra e o fracasso em resolver assuntos pendentes no período pós-guerra, alguns dos quais haviam sido causas da Primeira Guerra, acabaram criando condições para a ascensão do Nazismo e para a Segunda Guerra Mundial em 1939. Mais significativo ainda, essa guerra lançou as bases de um tipo de confronto moderno baseado em tecnologia, e que envolve tanto soldados como civis em situações de horror nunca vistas. Sob esse aspecto, todas as pessoas, de todas as classes sociais, tiveram de encarar as faces da guerra. A guerra deixava de ser uma batalha "civilizada" em que os homens se preparavam e mostravam suas melhores habilidades em algum campo de batalha distante. A Primeira Guerra Mundial mostrou uma nova idéia de guerra em que se admitia o uso de métodos desesperados e por vezes condenáveis para ganhar vantagem sobre o oponente, mesmo às custas de pessoas inocentes. A essa nova ideia de guerra veio, ainda durante o conflito, a chamar-se guerra total em consequência de os confrontos militares não se confinarem exclusivamente à frente de batalha, mas, pelo contrário, envolverem populações civis fora das áreas usuais de confronto. Na realidade, aviões alemães chegaram a bombardear Paris, e Londres foi bombardeada por dirigíveis e, também, por aeroplanos. Nações participantes Brasil e a Grande Guerra No dia 5 de abril de 1917 o vapor brasileiro "Paraná", que navegava de acordo com as exigências feitas a países neutros, foi torpedeado por um submarino alemão. No dia 11 de abril o Brasil rompe relações diplomáticas com o bloco germânico, e, em 20 de maio, o navio "Tijuca" foi torpedeado perto da costa francesa. Nos meses seguintes, o governo Brasileiro confisca 42 navios alemães que estavam em portos brasileiros, como uma indemnização de guerra. No dia 23 de outubro de 1917 o cargueiro nacional "Macau", um dos navios arrestados, foi torpedeado por um submarino alemão, perto da costa da Espanha, e seu comandante feito prisioneiro. Com a pressão popular contra a Alemanha, no dia 26 de outubro de 1917 o país declara guerra à aliança germânica. Começou então uma intensa agitação nacionalista, comícios louvam a «gloriosa atitude brasileira de apoiar os Aliados». Monteiro Lobato critica esse nacionalismo, pois, de acordo com ele, isso estava desviando a atenção do país em relação a seus problemas internos. A participação militar do Brasil no solo europeu foi pequena, resumindo-se a algumas ações de pilotos da força aérea, treinados na Europa, e apoio médico, além do fornecimento de alimentos e matérias-primas. A Marinha recebeu a incumbência de patrulhar o Atlântico, evitando a ação dos submarinos inimigos. Portugal na Grande Guerra Monumento aos mortos da Primeira Guerra Mundial em Coimbra, Portugal Ver artigo principal: Portugal na Primeira Guerra Mundial. Portugal participou no primeiro conflito mundial ao lado dos Aliados, o que estava de acordo com as orientações da República ainda recentemente instaurada. Em Março de 1916, apesar das tentativas da Inglaterra para que Portugal não se envolvesse no conflito, o antigo aliado português decidiu pedir ao estado português o apresamento de todos os navios germânicos na costa lusitana. Esta atitude justificou a declaração oficial de guerra de Portugal em relação à Alemanha e aos seus aliados, a 9 de Março de 1916 (apesar dos combates em África desde 1914). Em 1917, as primeiras tropas portuguesas, do Corpo Expedicionário Português, seguiam para a guerra na Europa, em direcção à Flandres. Portugal envolveu-se, depois, em combates em França. Neste esforço de guerra, chegaram a estar mobilizados quase 200 mil homens. As perdas atingiram quase 10 mil mortos e milhares de feridos, além de custos económicos e sociais gravemente superiores à capacidade nacional. Os objectivos que levaram os responsáveis políticos portugueses a entrar na guerra sairam gorados na sua totalidade. A unidade nacional não seria conseguida por este meio e a instabilidade política acentuar-se-ia até à queda do regime democrático em 1926. [editar] Frentes de combate Frente ocidental (principal frente): esta frente estendia-se o Mar do Norte até à Suíça. Nela combateram alemães que invadindo a Bélgica entraram em território Francês, tendo apenas parado na Batalha de Manne. Frente Leste: desde o mar Báltico até ao mar negro. Nesta frente as forças alemãs combatiam com as forças russas — que tinha um exército muito mal preparado quer fisicamente e militarmente. Estes desertavam porque eram na sua grande maioria contra o conflito. Frente Balcânica: desde o mar Adriático até ao Império Turco. A qual combatiam as forças austro-húngaras, sérvias, romanescas e búlgaras. Tecnologia Tanque de guerra britânico capturado pelos Alemães durante a Primeira Guerra Mundial. A Primeira Guerra Mundial foi uma mistura de tecnologia do século XX com tácticas do século XIX. Muitos dos combates durante a guerra envolveram a guerra das trincheiras, onde milhares de soldados por vezes morriam só para ganhar um metro de terra. Muitas das batalhas mais sangrentas da história ocorreram durante a Primeira Guerra Mundial. Tais batalhas incluiam Ypres, Vimy Ridge, Marne, Cambrai, Somme, Verdun, e de Gallipoli. A artilharia foi a responsável pelo maior número de baixas durante a guerra. A guerra química e o bombardeamento aéreo foram utilizados pela primeira vez em massa na Primeira Guerra Mundial. Ambos tinham sido tornados ilegais após a Convenção Hague de 1907. Os aviões foram utilizados pela primeira vez com fins militares durante a Primeira Guerra Mundial. Inicialmente a sua utilização consistia principalmente em missões de reconhecimento, embora tenha depois se expandido para ataque ar-terra e actividades ar-ar, como caças. Foram desenvolvidos bombardeiros estratégicos principalmente pelos alemães e pelos britânicos, já tendo os alemães utilizado Zeppelins para bombardeamento aéreo. Bombardeiros na Primeira Guerra Mundial(info) Vídeo de um bombardeamento aliado sob linhas Alemãs. Tanques de guerra na Primeira Guerra Mundial(info) Tanques primitivos ajudam os Aliados a avançarem em Langres, França. (1918) Ligações externas First World War.com, Multimédia sobre a Guerra A guerra para acabar com todas as guerras no site da BBC "The Heritage of the Great War", com muitas fotográfias GenealogyBuff.com - Dados sobre as baixas do Exército Américano O Exército Britânico na Guerra Primeira Guerra Mundial, guerras e batalhas Enciclopédia sobre a Primeira Guerra Mundial Primeira Guerra Mundial. Causas da Primeira Guerra Mundial Portugal na Primeira Guerra Mundial Tríplice Aliança Tríplice Entente Batalha do Lys História da Alemanha Segunda Guerra Mundial Origem: Wikipédia, a enciclopédia livre.