JaSta 2, Bertincourt, 9. September 1916, 17.45 h; Officer's mess
Hauptmann Boelke and Leutnant Schniedewind enter the mess. The officers rise and stand still.
"Meine Herren!
It makes me very sad, that I have to bring you the news, that half an hour ago, one of our best airmen, Leutnant Detlev von Mahlo, died in combat over Douai. He was sent to Douai airfield, to help fighting the constant attacks, made by French planes. His wingman, Leutnant Schniedewind, will report now."
Lt. Schniedewind: "We had just arrived, when we got badly attacked by six Nieuport 17. There were only Leutnant von Mahlo and me. Feldwebel Metzger had returned to base after some engine problems. I pushed the nose down, followed by four of the French planes. I could see Leutnant von Mahlo fighting the other two planes higher up, and witnessed him shooting both down, but my own fighting led me away from him. I could down one plane, but ran out of ammunition. The French pilots must have been aces. We were now over Douai city, dogfighting at about 500 feet. I was hit several times and thought, that was the end, when Leutnant von Mahlo came down amongst them like a firebird. He drove them apart, but got seriously hit. He tangled with two of them, while I could escape south at tree level. Looking back, I saw him loosing altitude rapidly. His engine must have been out. He tried to make it out of the city, but couldn't reach a field or space to land. He crashed into the trees of an alley; the wreckage cought fire. He didn't come out."
Boelke: "Only four days ago, he was awarded the "Pour le Merite" - an ace with 40 confirmed victories, not counted the 2 today. We knew him as a brave pilot, and we will miss him as a good comrade. Salute!" Officers raise their glasses, drink, and throw the glasses on the floor.
The door opens; in comes an officer in a long grey coat. He salutes and says: "Herr Hauptmann! Leutnant Juergen von Mahlo meldet sich zum Dienst!" A brother? A ghost? Who knows - another Campaign begins.
PS: never go down to fight their fight - let them come up to fight yours.
Hauptmann Boelke and Leutnant Schniedewind enter the mess. The officers rise and stand still.
"Meine Herren!
It makes me very sad, that I have to bring you the news, that half an hour ago, one of our best airmen, Leutnant Detlev von Mahlo, died in combat over Douai. He was sent to Douai airfield, to help fighting the constant attacks, made by French planes. His wingman, Leutnant Schniedewind, will report now."
Lt. Schniedewind: "We had just arrived, when we got badly attacked by six Nieuport 17. There were only Leutnant von Mahlo and me. Feldwebel Metzger had returned to base after some engine problems. I pushed the nose down, followed by four of the French planes. I could see Leutnant von Mahlo fighting the other two planes higher up, and witnessed him shooting both down, but my own fighting led me away from him. I could down one plane, but ran out of ammunition. The French pilots must have been aces. We were now over Douai city, dogfighting at about 500 feet. I was hit several times and thought, that was the end, when Leutnant von Mahlo came down amongst them like a firebird. He drove them apart, but got seriously hit. He tangled with two of them, while I could escape south at tree level. Looking back, I saw him loosing altitude rapidly. His engine must have been out. He tried to make it out of the city, but couldn't reach a field or space to land. He crashed into the trees of an alley; the wreckage cought fire. He didn't come out."
Boelke: "Only four days ago, he was awarded the "Pour le Merite" - an ace with 40 confirmed victories, not counted the 2 today. We knew him as a brave pilot, and we will miss him as a good comrade. Salute!" Officers raise their glasses, drink, and throw the glasses on the floor.
The door opens; in comes an officer in a long grey coat. He salutes and says: "Herr Hauptmann! Leutnant Juergen von Mahlo meldet sich zum Dienst!" A brother? A ghost? Who knows - another Campaign begins.
PS: never go down to fight their fight - let them come up to fight yours.
