Some breathtaking stories here lately, guys. Fullofit's low-level fight with the Pups produced some of the best photos I've seen yet. I don't know how you have the presence of mind to grab those shots in the midst of a low-level dogfight. I'm too busy not flying into solid objects to even think of it. And Robert is racking up an impressive score. Then MFair turns his triplane into a biplane and lives to tell the tail. Carrick returns from gallivanting with nurses. Stljeffbb, you are doing great things with your research and story-telling. Love it! And Lederhosen gets the Dragodile out of the garage at last! Hope I haven't forgotten anyone...

Anyway, please welcome Franz Holzhauer, my latest candidate for immortality.

Editor's note

These memoirs recently came to light during the renovation of an old summer home at Schwielowsee, near Berlin. The several notebooks had lain unnoticed for a century in a chest in the attic.

Franz Holzhauer was 18 when the war began, but he had already lived an interesting life. His father Marius had worked as a senior engineer for Siemens in Berlin. As a younger man, Marius Holzhauer had worked on the construction of telegraph lines alongside the German-built Baghdad Railway.[1] Still in his 20s, Marius helped to establish a project office in Bucharest and met and befriended Alfred von Kiderlen-Waechter, the acting German ambassador, who was responsible for negotiation with the Ottomans on the railroad project.[2]

Frau Holzhauer, the former Katerina Schaumeier, remained in Berlin and raised their young family. Daughter Maria and Victoria were followed in May 1896 by the birth of their son, Franz.

The association with Kiderlen-Waechter led to other things. In 1902 Marius Holzhauer was appointed technical attaché to the embassy in London, where he helped the German Telefunken company wage a patent war with Marconi. He studied Britain’s fleet conversion from coal to oil, reporting to the military attachés.

In 1904, the Holzhauers moved to Washington, where Marius studied progress in aviation and advised the German patent office on ways to avoid allowing the Wright Brothers to patent wing-warping technology.[3] Young Marius was fascinated by the thought of flying from his earliest years. In 1910 young Franz travelled to Chicago with his father and spent several weeks bothering workers at the Bates Aero Works while his father negotiated the purchase of a Bates aircraft motor. It was during this summer that Franz flew a glider for the first time, on the strictest of undertakings not to tell his mother.

The Holzhauers moved to Rome in 1911 and returned to Berlin in 1913. From 1911 Franz spent the school year with an uncle and aunt in Berlin, where he attended the Königliche Wilhelms-Gymnasium. With the outbreak of war, Franz attempted to join the infant Fliegertruppen but was turned down and was accepted instead into a Jaeger regiment. He served in the 1914 campaign but saw little action, having been sent to a quiet sector in the Vosges. Finally, in February 1915 he was accepted as a pilot candidate by the Fliegertruppen.

Excelling in training, Franz found himself on the Eastern front from November 1915 until February 1917. His earlier memoirs tell of numbing boredom and disillusionment. In January 1917, following a long period recuperating from a bout of pneumonia, Franz Holzhauer’s request for a posting to a single-seat unit was accepted and after a period of leave he shipped west to the school at Valenciennes.

We pick up his story with his arrival at his first operational fighter squadron, Jasta 17.



The Holzhauer Papers
Part 1: 16-23 April 1917, St-Quentin-le-Petit

The car with its fat, sullen corporal pulled up at a stone farmhouse just outside a little village that nestled in a fold in the surrounding fields. It was 15 April 1917, and here at last I was about to join the real war.

Jasta 17 was based at St-Quentin-le-Petit, in the open land south of the Ardennes, about 40 km north of Reims. I was met by Rittmeister von Brederlow, the Jastaführer. This aristocratic officer welcomed me heartily and questioned me at length about my experiences in the East. He invited me to a gathering in the Kasino, where there was a great party underway. The guest of honour was a French sergeant with a heavily bandaged face. He had been shot down that day by Vizefeldwebel Julius Buckler. Buckler had downed the man’s Spad scout and a Caudron as well – his 3rd and 4th victories! This, it seemed, was a real fighting squadron.

I met a number of the other pilots, and struggled to learn everyone’s name. The Jastaführer’s brother in the adjutant. There is Leutnant der Reserve Günther, Leutnant Alfred Träger, and Leutnant Schuster. Perhaps the most interesting new acquaintance is Vizefeldwebel Jakob Wolff. He is old enough to be my father, or even my father’s older brother! He is a director of the huge Lörser & Wolff cigar company. Imagine! A man with 4000 employees serving as an NCO at the front! This war can bring out the good or the bad, but this is certainly a case of bringing out the good. There are many other names to learn.

The Frenchman, named Papeil, was well plied with champagne. Ltn Träger spoke decent French and served as the translator. Papeil referred to his machine as “ma Lola.” We liked the way it sounded and by dinner there were cries of “Malaula” as we rendered the name. It was to become our battle cry.

On 16 April the French began a major push. We had known for days it was due, and now we hoped to get busy. The morning was clear and I flew an early patrol down to the lines near Reims. We did not cross over and we saw nothing. I was anxious to prove that, unlike true neophytes, I had the ability to spot other machines at a distance, but there truly was nothing to see. My machine was a delight, one of the new Albatros models with the Nieuport-like wings. It handled delicately and precisely, unlike anything else I’d flown. Vzfw Strasser, even though lowest in rank in the patrol, led us. I learned that this kind of thing often happened here. Strasser was good enough to warn me not to overstress the Albatross, because the strength of its main spar was still suspect.

Buckler did it again – he downed his fifth Frenchman, a Nieuport.

I flew a second time that day, another uneventful jaunt well behind the lines. And then the rain came. For the next four days we sat around our huts and read books. Feldwebel Ehms, who shares a hut with me, plays chess very well and we had countless games, all of which he won. I intend to play him every day until I beat him. We have good access to decent brandy and, thanks to Vzfw Wolff, all the cigars we can handle. You can scarcely breathe in our Kasino!

On 22 April the skies cleared and we took off at 5 am for a patrol along the front. Our lovely type 3 Albatrosses have gone back to the factory for work on the wings. In place of my nimble machine I have been assigned a DII type. The visibility is much worse and the thing feels unbearably heavy by comparison. We were about halfway to the lines when the Rittmeister, who led us, waggled his wings and pointed to the east. A cluster of dots was passing our way and we climbed to inspect them. The dots broke formation and came at us: Nieuports! We mixed with them for five or ten minutes and Ltn Günther sent one down in flames. I learned how dangerous this kind of fight can be. Twice in the space of seconds I had to smash the stick forward to avoid a collision with another German. And then suddenly the sky was empty. I flew straight for a moment and waited for the compass to stop spinning. Then, pop-pop-pop! I was being shot at, which did not please me at all. Where he came from I do not know, but a Sopwith two-seater with French markings flashed past me. Fortunately the fellow was not a good shot.

I gave chase, twisting and turning to stay behind and below him and out of the way of his gunner, whom I could see heaving his machine gun from side to side. The French pilot was nervous. He threw his machine around too violently for the poor gunner to have a chance. As we dropped below a thousand metres I got under the French machine and fired from close range. It fell over on one wing and began to spiral earthward, crashing into a field near Saint-Fergeux.


"It fell over on one wing and began to spiral earthward"

The confirmation came quickly and we had a small celebration in the mess, where I was presented with a silver Ehrenbecher. I hope it is the first of many.

On 23 April I was told to lead a patrol down to Reims. I say “lead”, but Ltn Schuster stayed close on my wing and watched carefully over me. I had orders to hand over command if he fired a white flare. Over the lines we spotted a formation of Nieuports and climbed to meet them. The fight was chaotic. Twice I flew head-on at a Frenchman. Buckler had told me never to break off in this situation. Fire constantly and make the other fellow break away first. After the second head-on attack I knew I had good speed and could climb and turn onto the Frenchman’s tail. I had barely begun to turn when there was a loud bang and I saw Ltn Träger’s machine falling away. Collision!

My machine was still responsive. It had been a glancing blow to the underside of the tail. I was unsure of the damage so I broke off and headed for the forward field at St- Remy-le-Petit, near Rethel. After a safe landing I was driven back to our field, where I was delighted to learn that Träger had been able to bring his damaged machine down safely. Rittmeister von Brederlow convened an inquiry into the collision and assured me it had been unavoidable, although he held Träger back for some loving words!

Then in the afternoon we were back over the lines, escorting two DFWs to bomb French reserve positions. But we ran into a great swarm of Nieuports who attacked us aggressively. I somehow acquired two of them all to myself and was grateful for my DII, as I would likely have torn the wings off a DIII. A bullet grazed my side and I spun out of the fight. The Mercedes packed it in and I put down in a cratered field near Guignicourt. Several Bavarian soldiers helped me out of the machine and I repaid them with some of Wolff’s cigars which I carried in a leather case. Then took me to a Feldlazarett .
I am told I shall be out of action for four days.

Historical Notes:

[1] The Baghdad Railway project was undertaken between 1888 and the beginning of the war. Marius Holzmann likely worked on the telegraph during the phase of construction from Eskişehir to Konya, which was concluded in 1903.

[2] Alfred von Kiderlen-Waechter became Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs and had a major role in Germany's provocative approach to the 1911 Agadir Crisis in Morocco.

[3] The Wrights were notorious for trying to patent every aspect of aircraft construction. They failed spectacularly, and their defensiveness likely kept them out of the forefront of aviation development.

Raine

You really need to work on a book. Your work is that good! You inspire us all with your research.

Helmut von Hammer
Jasta 4, JG 1.
Marcke, Flamders.

Aug 22, 1917.


They returned my D-V to Jasta 11 amd I drew a D-III OAW from the stores. I made test hops during the A.M. then was Schwarmfuhrer for the afternoon flight of 6 machines. Over the lines, we caught 5 e/a flight of Sopwiths. My flight got 2 of them,but no gong for me. I got off 150 rds then a gun jammed , Line up one a sitter only to have the other gun jam. Nothing to do but RTB.

Just my 2 cents. I agree with Mr. Wiggins, Raine has talent at writing.

Looks like I'm late to the party. Banjoman, I'm the last one to give advice on storytelling since I can barely put two words together. I get what your problem is. Coming up with stories for the same pilot over and over for so long can be difficult. (Get a new pilot!)
Seriously, all the suggestions you've been given are great and I'd like to add some more. Change your perspective. Don't write about your pilot. Write about your wingman, or other member of your flight, incorporating your pilot into the story. Perhaps even write from the perspective of an observer in one of the two-seaters your flight is escorting. Write how he shat his pants watching the mayhem unfold in front of him, while your flight swept the sky of the attacking scouts. You could even write from the perspective of the enemy your pilot dog-fought with. (Is that even a word?) Check what events were happening at the time of your mission in your squad and incorporate into your narrative - that's going into Raine's territory. Don't settle on just your pilot's story, if you know what I mean.

Raine, another triumph! I'm amazed at the details, people and events you are able to connect together through research. When do you get the time to fly?

Raine, I would like a signed copy if you please. Seriously, as the others have said, you are that good my friend.

Edgar Everheart
It happens again! Leading a 3 man patrol of enemy lines from Monchy to Lens when I spot Huns crossing the lines about a mile ahead. We stalk them getting between them and the sun but they spot us and turn to engaged. I give short bursts to the first three in head on passes, damaging the second one as puffs of smoke came from his engine. The fourth one I was on in a second and sent him spinning earthward but a glance behind me let me know I was the hunted. I turned into him and we circled until I was on his tail. I foolishly followed him down and observed him crash near Athies. Climbing out I was met with a barrage of Archie and felt something hit me in the buttocks. I smelled petrol and the thin vapour trail confirmed I was low behind the lines and loosing fuel. Cripes! Twice in a row. Luckily I was able to climb to 4000' before the engine went dud and I glided to the safety of our lines.

The wound was not serious and I will not loose any flight time. I claimed the second Albatros. Got to be more careful!

MFair, better get yourself a comfy pillow under your butt for the next few missions!

24 April, 1917 Halluin, Morning
Jasta 18

The HQ decided that the best use of the aircraft this morning will be to patrol the home aerodrome. Everyone thought this was the best idea HQ had for some time. Some even joked that if they get hungry during the mission, they can simply dive for a snack. Aldi did not get much sleep last night and was not in the mood for jokes. During the briefing Grieffenhagen reminded everyone to treat this like any other mission. The enemy was still up there regardless of what airfield they were circling over.
Aldi brought his flight up to altitude with learned efficiency only experience could afford. There was a cloud cover forming since the early hours. It will probably culminate with downpour later in the afternoon. Aldi's thoughts were interrupted by the dark puffs pockmarking tops of the clouds.



The enemy was heading north-west. The direction could easily be guessed by following the Flak. Schwarzkopf aimed for an area in front of the enemy formation to cut them off, opened up the throttle and entered a shallow dive. The enemy came fully into view and filled his windscreen. It was a flight of N12's without escort. If there was one, it was very well hidden, or already had abandoned the two-seaters and were well on their way back to base. No matter, the formation was coming into range. Aldi checked if everyone was in position. Von Bülow and Strähle on one side, Grieffenhagen and Klein on the other. Aldi opened fire on the rearmost machine. It began to smoke.



Everyone else picked their target and the slaughter commenced. Aldi made another pass. His target begun to burn.



He saw Strähle behind another Nieuport. Klein had another one smoking. Aldi swung around to finish the job but there was no need. The enemy was engulfed in flames and pouring black smoke from the rear.



The machine went into a steep dive and begun to tumble out of control. Aldi looked around to see multiple machines on fire or smoking heavily.



The formation had been decimated. There was perhaps one plane still trying to get away, doggedly followed by two Albatrosen. Aldi decided this was quite enough to consider this mission a success. He gave signal to form up and descended to the conveniently located aerodrome just below. He only had a few hours to rest before he'd have to go up again in the afternoon. Grieffenhagen already had picked the flight to go up and bust a balloon. Little did he suspect the outcome of that fateful sortie.

Great read as usual Fullofit, and some really good ideas about breaking my writer's block. Ahren has been flying now for almost two years and I have never seen a Nieuport12. I actually find that sort of amazing, wonder what are the odds of that happening.

Wow, just W-O-W to all of these posts:



@ Fullofit...I still marvel and wonder how you get those excellent shots. Do you have video capture with multiple views? And of course, fine stories (great anticipation), and Käte!

@ Raine.....excellent, just excellent writing! I wonder if you are not a history professor!

@ Lederhosen...good to see you! Fine pics as well with the morning (or evening) sun....and that dragodile, awesome!

@ Mfair.....yeah, I've shredded a lower wing on a Tripe on more than one occasion (in test flights and whatnot)...good stuff, and don't go west, lol!

@ Banjoman....what everyone else said about writing! You are doing great, just let it flow!

@ carrick58...short and sweet! Good stuff!

@ Robert_Wiggins....always enjoy your videos....I cannot fly like you do with the zoom all the way up in the cockpit....good stuff!

...know that I will not always be able to gush like this (ha ha I have a screaming three-year-old right now that I am tending to with one arm as I type with the other hand), but I will be watching. Real life is about to smack down on me hard (as it always does this time of year), but I will get some flying in and check in at least 30 times a day

Regards,

Jeff

Antön Otersdorf
Jasta 32
April 1917
Morchingen Aerodrome
Alsace Front

22 April 1917. One mission today...assigned to balloon defense.



Two flights for a total of eight aeroplanes arrived near the scheduled place, and there were at least four Nieuports that I noticed. We scored one right away.



Sadly, my machine suddenly, at exactly the wrong moment, would not go full speed! I'm not sure exactly what happened, but after wallowing around the air for a while and managing a few bursts,



I flew into a cloud and headed home.



My wingman, Klaus Hengstberger was killed as his aeroplane was destroyed after I landed while he was fighting the Nieuports (I gave the return to base signal...not sure if he noticed it), and Kurt Beeken also went missing, presumed killed.



A dark day for our Jasta.

------------------

Regards,

Jeff

Surely do not what to distract from the topic but as some praise the high quality of Raine's posts I just wanted to show an example of what story a capable and dedicated person can pull out of a game, in this case:
"Small Ship, Big War - The Voyages of the Hibiki" by Cuttlefish
http://www.matrixgames.com/forums/tm.asp?m=1363103
Sooner or later you look forward to read about the various characters that Cuttlefish invented, and back then it was of course the excitement of what the next post would bring.

I would say if Raine follows a unit through the war, telling stories of the pilots that come and go, from various perspectives like the ground crews, civilians near the airfield, etc. it surely would end as a story worth to be printed.

Jeff, nothing that sophisticated. (I don't even know what that means!) I'm afraid it is much less complex than that: Escape to pause, F1 to go to external view, move the view around with the numpad keys and press "K", go back to cockpit view, press Escape again, fly.


24 April, 1917 Halluin Aerodrome, Afternoon
Jasta 18

Aldi jumped out of the cockpit moments after setting his Albatros down on the field. Despite the movement constricting flight suit he ran toward the red and blue Albatros with a dark stripe across the fuselage already parked on the side. His friend Ltn Walter von Bülow-Bothkamp was inspecting a few holes in the tail section of the fuselage of his mount. His usually bright expression was replaced by heavy lines of concern on his face. Rain was soaking both pilots. He turned to Aldi when he approached: "Did you see what happened?"
"I lost him in the clouds. Last I saw, he was following the Fees into the clouds, then we got separated and after the fight he wasn't there to form up. I thought his engine was giving him trouble again and he turned back."
Von Bülow was just about to respond when a staff car pulled up and out of it jumped Ltn Strähle with his face pale as a ghost. The rain covered him in an instant.
"I've been to the hospital." Paul announced.
"And?" Both Aldi and Walter were in desperate need of information about their C.O. who had just been shot down.
"And now I'm back." Paul thought it was obvious.
"Yes, I can see that, but what about Herr Oberleutnant?" Von Bülow tried to be patient.
Strähle had finally understood, "He's still in the hospital. I left him there." He was starting to feel uncomfortable with all the questioning.
"AND?" Von Bülow's patience was quickly running out.
"He will be there for a while. The Fees did a number on him and he was shot in the leg and lower jaw. The medic did all he could. He told me himself!" Paul exclaimed in one breath trying to keep Walter calm.
"How could this have happened?" Von Bülow was struggling to understand it all.
"Simply put," Strähle offered an explanation "the bullet leaves the muzzle of the gun at very high speed, which along with the mass of the projectile causes ..."
Von Bülow begun to walk away at a rapid pace.
Aldi looked at Paul trying to salvage the situation.
"Let's start from the beginning." He offered, "Can you tell me what happened during the mission?"
"Sure," Paul agreed "but I thought you were there too."
"Let's pretend I have not. Leave no detail about Grieffenhagen."
"OK, this afternoon we were sent to destroy enemy observation balloon south of Menen. Hauptmann Schwarzkopf was leading Schwarm Zwei." Strähle winked at Aldi. "Von Bülow, Grieffenhagen and I completed the formation. We were three kilometers away from our target, when we noticed a formation of Fees flying low below us. With the balloon all but forgotten, the entire Schwarm turned its attention to the British two-seaters.




The leader," here Paul winked at Aldi again "closed in on the last pusher in line and opened fire.



Von Bülow was next. He picked one on the extreme right of the formation and proceeded to make minced meat out of it.



Oberleutnant Grieffenhagen and I were bringing up the rear and waiting for the strugglers. One of the machines dropped out of formation and that was when Grieffenhagen went after it.



The Fee gunner was ready for him and sent a volley into his engine. The Albatros wobbled and smoke started to pour out. He gave signal and I followed him over the lines to make sure everything was alright. We landed behind our reserve lines near some tenders parked along the road. It was lucky they were there, otherwise we'd have to walk."
"I'm pretty sure Grieffenhagen landed there on purpose." Aldi couldn't help himself.
"In any case," Paul continued "we were taken to the nearby field hospital and the rest you know." Strähle concluded his report.
"That's great Paul. Thanks! Let's go find Walter." They both stepped from under the wing of Walter's plane where they were standing and into the rain.
"Hope the rain stops before tomorrow." Paul announced "I'm sick of water in my shoe."
The next morning orders came in. Von Bülow would be the new Staffelführer until Grieffenhagen can recover and return from hospital.
(Note: this is modelled in the sim. Grieffenhagen is taken off the roster. Well done OBD!)

Banjoman, I nearly missed that one. You are correct. N12's seem to be rather rare. One of those was Aldi's first unconfirmed kill nearly 4 months ago. He probably encountered these maybe twice in between.

@ Fullofit...thanks for the info!

----------------------------

Antön Otersdorf
Jasta 32
April 1917
Morchingen Aerodrome
Alsace Front

23 April 1917. One mission today...an escort of two bombers to Xaffervillers.



The instructions we were given stated that the bombers would be over our aerodrome, however, it was a while before we caught up to them as they were already headed to the front. As we arrived over the enemy aerodrome, I sighted at least four Nieuports....guess they weren't happy we were bombing them!



I flew under our bombers to draw the fire of the Nieuports. Suddenly, I found myself alone with the bombers, and then going to the aid of my squadmates. Long story short, I was soon alone with just one of the enemy, and I put a lot of bursts into him (enduring a gun jam), to the point that his engine stopped and he was smoking. But then, I looked up and there they were...SIX enemy aeroplanes!



And I was alone...not a good situation to say the least. Discretion was certainly the better part of valor, and I flew very low, enduring many hits and making a harrowing flight through the ruins of Luneville...but I made it back to base! I had to keep the stick to the left to balance my aeroplane, and a blasted convoy was driving by our aerodrome, but my landing went well. However, the field was very lonely, with only Arnd Benzler's plane still on the field. We did lose yet another pilot, Eberhard Stoll, and Franz Tabaka was wounded in his plane crash. However, I did make a claim, although it is not likely to be accepted because I had no squadmates with me.



-------------------------

(Writer's Note....bah, it was probably a N24 that I bagged....claim says N23, oh well!)

Regards,

Jeff

Just some fine reports fellows!

nice reports

Helmut von Hammer
Jasta 4, JG 1.
Marcke, Flamders.

Aug 23 1917.

The Jasta had a maintenance stand down ( The Fuel Transports never showed up ) so worked on and painted my D-III . The C.O said " Too Much Red " so I might have to touch it up. As we worked on the machine the riggers mentioned Boxing and remained me of my 1st match. I lost in the 3rd round, but I remember what my opposition said:
https://giphy.com/gifs/mic-ronda-rousey-athlete-biopic-ZYSSM5cUBuAaA/fullscreen

Carrick, was jello involved in that fight?

Fullofit and Jeff, You two are killing me with that low level stuff. I like a bit more air under the machine myself! Beautiful screen shots and vids Gents!

Carrick, Yep, swallow the coffee, put the cup down. Open up your post. Bust out laughing. That's the drill! Too funny Hoss.

MFair: LOL. No Jello, but I did have hopes for Oil.