Author: Matt Blitz / Source: Today I Found Out
It was a century ago when famed World War I German fighter pilot Manfred von Richthofen was fatally shot out of the sky. Yet, his nickname – “Red Baron” – remains part of American vernacular. Charles Schulz’s comic strip character Snoopy famously took on the Red Baron in his imaginary air battles aboard his doghouse, often yelling “Curse you, Red Baron!
” Movies and songs feature the German war hero. Even a Minnesota-based food company co-opted his name and image to sell frozen pizza. So, who was the Red Baron? And why do we celebrate him, even though he was an enemy of the Allied Forces who, beyond some number of unconfirmed kills, shot down a confirmed 80 Allied planes during World War I?Born on May 2, 1892, Manfred von Albrecht Freiherr von Richthofen was the son of a career army officer in a prominent Prussian family. During the first decade of his life, he lived comfortably as an aristocrat, playing sports and hunting. But at age 11, his father forced him and his brother to enroll in the Cadet Institute at Wahlstatt. Richthofen’s 1917 autobiography reveals that he wasn’t too happy about this. “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.”
He goes on,
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.
Beyond this, he also was apparently fond of pulling “risky tricks” like risking life and limb by climbing the town’s famous steeple. As you might imagine, Richthofen soon separated himself as fearless and bold, a reputation he’d maintain for the rest of his life.
Shortly before his 18th birthday, he was commissioned as an officer in a German cavalry unit.
On June 28, 1914, a Bosnian-born Slav nationalist named Gavrilo Princip, protesting the integration of his country into the Austro-Hungarian Empire, assassinated the heir to the throne, Archduke Franz Ferdinand. Contrary to popular belief, nobody really cared much about the actual assassination (not even the Emperor himself who wasn’t shy about his opinion that it was a good thing that this particular heir had been killed), but it was a great excuse to wage a quick land-grab war, and as a result the world got one of the most deadly conflicts in history.
As a 22 years old cavalryman, Richthofen was sent off to both the eastern and western fronts where he served mostly as a messenger. It soon became clear that, in this age of trench warfare and advanced weaponry, cavalrymen were no longer terribly useful and provided an easy target for the enemy. So, Richthofen got off the horse and was mostly used to find telephone operators and to help the army with supply transfers.
He was not happy with this and asked to be moved to the German Air Service. In his autobiography, he wrote that he sent a polite letter to the Commanding General making this request but “evil tongues report that I told him: ‘My dear Excellency! I have not gone to war in order to collect cheese and eggs, but for another purpose.’”
Whatever he actually said, Richthofen’s request was granted.
After a stint as an observer on flights, Richthofen was promoted to pilot. However, his first solo flight didn’t go well. In a great life lesson for all of us, this man whose name would soon become synonymous with “Flying Ace” crashed.
One fine evening my teacher, Zeumer, told me: “Now go and fly by yourself.” I must say I felt like replying “I am afraid” But this is a word which should never be used by a man who defends his country. Therefore, whether I liked it or not, I had to make the best of it and get into my machine.
Zeumer explained to me once more every movement in theory. I scarcely listened to his explanations for I was firmly convinced that I should forget half of what he was telling me.
I started the machine. The aeroplane went at the prescribed speed and I could not help noticing that I was actually flying. After all I did not feel timorous but rather elated. I did not care for anything. I should not have been frightened no matter what happened. With contempt of death I made a large curve to the left…Now came the most difficult thing, the landing. I remembered exactly what movements I had to make. I acted mechanically and the machine moved quite differently from what I had expected. I lost my balance, made some wrong movements, stood on my head and I succeeded in converting my aeroplane into a battered school ‘bus. I was very sad… and had to suffer from other people’s jokes.
Flying went much better for him after that. Like when he was younger, Richthofen earned a reputation for pulling risky maneuvers – like flying into a thunderstorm against the orders of his commanders. His boldness again caught the attention of his superiors. In 1916, Germany’s top flying ace at the time, Oswald Boelcke, handpicked Richthofen for the new air fighter squadron he was putting together- Jasta 2.
Richthofen was a cocky pupil but didn’t disappoint. In September 1916, he got his first confirmed kill when he shot down a British plane over the French countryside. Wrote Richthofen later about this event, “I was animated by a single thought: ‘The man in front of me must come down, whatever happens.’… I give a short series of shots 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 the propeller of the enemy machine had stopped turning. I had shot his engine to pieces.”
From then on, his confidence and reputation only grew. Upon the death of his mentor Boelcke (due to an accidental mid-air collision with a fellow German plane), Richthofen took on the mantle of Germany’s top flying ace.
While racking up kills, Richthofen acquired some rather morbid traditions. For example, for every plane he shot down, he had a Berlin jeweler make him a small silver cup. However, after 60 of these, the jeweler was forced…
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