Famous War-Time Aces

Hawera Star, Volume LIV, 15 June 1935, Page 11

Famous War-Time Aces

V ALOUR in the air was not the prerogative of any one nation who fought in the Great \Yar, writes Captain Norman Mac-

millan in the Daily Mail. Britain, Germany, France, Italy, Austria, Belgium, America all produced men who rose to fame. In almost every case these challenging and successful fighting pilots flew single-seater aeroplanes. In their cockpits they rode to war alone (as did the knights of old upon their chargers) to single out their adversaries, engage in mortal combat, and fight the swiftest-paced duels the world has ever known.

It is ever invidious to create distinctions. And if, in this brief article, to leave untold the tale of the magic worth of Barker, McCudden, Mannock, Schaefer, Voss, Boelcke, Fonk. and Nungesser opens a pathway to dissension among liero-worsliippers, I would .just say that I pick these thoughts of remembrance from the many that fill the sickled lane of the flower of youth. Albert Ball was the youngest of the three aces whose feats I shall describe. As a boy he was keen on photography, chemistry, mechanics and gardening. He gave no special sign of excellence in athletics. But he made things—boats and rafts —with his own hands, and. operated them single-handed. When the war broke out he joined Iho 2nd City Battalion of the Sherwood Foresters. He was promoted sergeant soon after, and was commissioned second lieutenant in October, 1914. In June, 1915, tired of the endless training for ground work he began to take flying lessons on his own initiative, paying for them himself. He was in the Royal Flying Corps by the middle of October, 1915. He went to France in February, 1916, just at the time when fighting in the air was beginning to assume serious proportions. His firstwork was carried out in two-seaters. Ball’s pleasure was found in the joy of flying. His work as a hunter in the air came second to the love of flight itself. But -by the middle of May, 1916, he was mounted in a single-seater aeroplane and had brought down his first enemy. He had started on his fighting career in the air. Sometimes in patrol and sometimes flying by himself, he fought and scrapped his way through the dog-fights by his skill in flying. He brought his enemies down by his ability to shoot. At last, a victor over forty-three aeroplanes, he himself fell on May 7, 1917, before he reached the age of twenty-one. None of his flying partners saw him go. One writes: — “On either side machine guns were spitting death at him. A cloud of German machines were circling about, pecking at him just like great hawks after their prey. A dozen- of their machines were detached to engage us while the others gave the coup de grace to Ball. He disappeared in the midst of a cloud of German machines, and for a time it was impossible tf> distinguish friend from foe.” And Ball went down fighting gamely to the last, killed in action by the guns of Lowther von Richthofen, the brother of the famous Red Baron. At the age of twenty-three, Captain Georges Guynemer was the champion fighting airman of France. One of a family of three, he was an only son. His mother was a niece of Sir Walter Scott. As a boy he was of a delicate and highlystrung constitution, and was still at school when war broke out. That clash of arms prevented -him from entering the banking profession. He endeavoured to enlist, but time after time was rejected on medical grounds. Eventually lie got into the Army as a mechanic in the French Air Service. Fond of things mechanical, and especially of motor cars and motor cycles, he found himself in his element. His keenness soon gained him permission to train as a pilot. He was a born flyer. After a short course of training he got his brevet on April 26, 1915. Six weeks later he brought down his first enemy on the Soissons front. He was then sent to fly a single-seater, and he continued to fight in single-seaters until his death. His mount was usually a Spad. He was

wounded in March, 191 G. but by the close of that year he was the victor of twenty-two tights.

On one occasion lie shot clown three enemy machines in the course of a fight lasting only a few minutes; on another occasion he shot down four enemy aeroplanes in one day. He was the leading fighter of Ihe famous Storks’ Squadron. In spite of a delicate constitution and a vivid imagination—two great handicaps to an air fighter—he became one of the foremost airmen of the world. , Early in the year of his death he felt that he had only six months more to live and that if the war was not over before then he would give his life for France. On September 11. 1917. Guynemcr was shot down and killed, and France mourned a valiant pilot with, fifty-three victories to his name. Tin*, name Richthofen lives in (formally as that of Nelson lives in England. Those of us who fought on the western front in the second half of the war knew his name as well as did his comrades who opposed us. There was something of his spirit that seemed to fill the air as music is carried silently through the ether on Hertzian waves. High above the waving corn that leant and rustled to the summer breeze of Flanders his red aeroplane ranged the skies. Behind his windscreen his keen blue eyes searched the skies for his next bag—often the bursts of the anti-aircraft shells revealed its position. The Red Baron climbed above his foe. When he dived he dived to kill. His shooting was practised and deadly. Baron Manfred von Richthofen was a sportsman, son of a landowning squire, whose family sports wore hunting and shooting and lading. Eleven days short of twenty-six when he fell to the ground in his all-red Fokker triplane, Manfred was the greatest hunter of them all. He looked upon air fighting as a sport. He graduated to the air force from the cavalry, and first became an observer on the Russian front, then a bomber on the western front. His restless spirit longed to handle the controls himself. He met Boelcke and worshipped him. for Boelcke was then the air god of dermany. On his first solo flighl Richthofen crashed oil landing. But persistence was rewarded. He learnt to fly two-seaters. El ill he fought 1o gain entry into the single-seater class, while he piloted his heavy aeroplane above the Russian troops.' Then lie met Boelcke once more. Joyfully he accepted the invitation of the great ace to join his squadron. Under the expert training of his leader, Richthofen learnt his art of killing on the Somme front. His bag began to grow. He presented himself with a silver cup for each new victory. His name was made, Boelcke fell and was killed when his aeroplane crashed into another Herman machine in the middle of a dog-fight. Richthofen took his place in command. He was wounded. A bullet scared his head. He went on leave. That wound left him wondering if his life was quite invincible. His confidence was shaken slightly. But he came back and fought on. His fame spread across the world. He had shot down eighty aeroplanes; killed eighty-seven men in air duels; the toll of his prisoners stood at twenty-two. On April 21, 1918, in a terrific dog-fight he met his death. Guns were firing, machine guns rattling from the ground and in the air. Pursuing a Camel in relentless flight. Richthofen in turn was pursued by another Camel. Captain Roy Brown’s stream of bullets penetrated the Fokker’s cockpit. The Fokker glided down and landed almost intact. In the cockpit, strapped to his seat, sat the Red Baron, dead, with a bullet from Brown’s guns through his head. Among these three great aces of the war there is a difference in the tally of machines brought down, but there is not one hair’s-breadth between them in the bravery of their work. Were they alive to-day they would salute each other with pride and honour. Instead, their souls rest in the Valhalla of the glorious dead.