In early August 1918, JG I changed airfields in an area west of St. Quentin. The Geschwader went from Ennemain, south of the old roman road, just over ten kilometres northeast to Bernes. At the end of the month they made a longer move, still to the northeast, to Busigny and Escaufort. These towns were not the sites of great battles, but merely way stations in the slow but steady retreat of the once powerful Richthofen Jagdgeschwader. Amid this activity, Göring had to devote ground and air personnel to scouting new locations and overseeing logistics in unsettled times.

Following JG I’s latest relocation, on 2 September Göring was summoned to 2nd Army headquarters for a high level discussion. When he returned two days later, it was clear he had won bureaucratic victories in the struggle for resources for the Geschwader. As proof of his success, just after his return, 4 September, the JG I staff was joined by a new medical officer, Dr. Fisser, who set up first-aid stations at the airfields of the remnants of the Geschwader’s four Jagdstaffeln.⁶ Fisser’s arrival was a small but important step in rebuilding the Geschwader.

JG I’s score of aerial victories rose slowly in September, but casualties remained steady, as overwhelming numbers of British and French aircraft relentlessly attacked German aeroplanes. On the 5th of that month, for instance, Jasta 4 lost twenty-two-year-old Leutnant Joachim von Winterfeld, whose aeroplane caught fire during an evening air combat with S.E.5a fighters of 60 Squadron, RAF. The victor in three aerial combats, Winterfeld jumped out of his aeroplane in one of the new parachutes issued to fighter pilots. His chute had been badly damaged, however, and did not fully deploy; he was found in a critical condition and taken to the first-aid station at Lieu St. Amand, where he died a few hours later.⁷

Off to a New Sector

At mid-month, the Geschwader was transferred yet again, this time to an area Göring knew well from his early air combat days: Metz, east of Verdun. On 16 September, Göring climbed into his white Fokker D.VII and, with his Staffel leaders and technical officers behind him, he headed from Busigny and Escaufort eastward to an airfield at Frescaty, just outside Metz.⁸ He was informed that a large American force (the U.S. First Army⁹) was leading an Allied offensive to reduce the salient at St. Mihiel. Now, the reconstituted Jagdgeschwader I was joined with JG II (Jastas 12, 13, 15 and 19) to engage American airmen, who were superior in number – but not experience – to their German opponents.

The reportedly hapless Americans were widely discussed some days later, when, on the evening of Saturday, 23 September, Göring and many of his pilots were invited to JG II’s officers’ mess¹⁰ at Stenay, north of Metz. There they heard ‘wonderful things about the splendid days [the JG II pilots] experienced in the skies over Metz … [and that] the American pilots had not the slightest bit of experience in aerial combat …’¹¹

Göring’s JG II counterpart, Oberleutnant Oskar Freiherr von Boenigk, and some of his top people raved about the combat opportunities available among the largely unseasoned American airmen. If the JG I pilots had not already read it, that evening they became familiar with an army communiqué of three days earlier that proclaimed:

‘Above the battlefield between the Meuse and Moselle [rivers], in the time from 12 to 18 September, Jagdgeschwader II under the leadership of Oberleutnant Frhr. von Boenigk shot down eighty-one enemy aeroplanes and, at the same time, lost only two [of its airmen] in combat.’¹²

Sixty-eight American fighters and bombers were recorded as lost during this period¹³ – the opening of the St. Mihiel offensive – which, of course, Göring had no way of knowing. He knew only that the numbers were high, which is what he wanted JG I to attain and he would do whatever was necessary to achieve that goal. He would not have to wait long to attract attention, as the Richthofen Jagdgeschwader soon became known to its adversaries. An American Expeditionary Force bulletin at this time informed U.S. air units about the illustrious newcomer to the sector and its resources:

‘From latest information, [JGI] was reported to be equipped with Fokker biplanes. Losses in machines seem to be made good immediately with the best machines obtainable. This [air wing] seems to have taken part wherever the Germans or Allies started an offensive, and its transfer to the Conflans area would …indicate that this sector is now regarded as an active one by the [Germans].’¹⁴

Adventures with Udet

Newly promoted Oberleutnant der Reserve Ernst Udet returned from leave and rejoined JG I on Monday, 25 September. Late the following afternoon, he shot down two British Airco D.H.9 two-seat bombers southeast of Metz. They were confirmed as his sixty-first and sixty-second aerial victories.¹⁵ And there was little likelihood that they would not be confirmed, as the Geschwader-Kommandeur participated in the flight and was among seven witnesses whose statements were appended to Udet’s combat report and victory claim. Göring wrote: ‘I observed at about 5:15 p.m. how the red [Fokker D.VII] of Oblt. Udet caused one D.H.9 to break up in the air and the second to go down in flames southeast of Metz.’¹⁶

One day after that fight, Göring took Udet with him on a short two-seater plane ride to visit the home defence Kampfeinsitzerstaffeln [single-seat combat sections] 1a and 1b, which were in the process of being combined to form Jagdstaffel 90.¹⁷ Göring had wide latitude in selecting men for JG I and, with luck, might find some likely prospects among these flyers. Udet was familiar with this method of recruitment, as Manfred von Richthofen had ‘discovered’ him in charge of Jasta 37 when a new leader was needed for a more prestigious unit in the Red Baron’s famous Jagdgeschwader.¹⁸

Oberleutnant Rudolf Nebel, Jasta 90’s prospective commanding officer, was also familiar with that method – and, when he heard that Göring was coming for a visit, he enlisted one of his most trusted comrades to help ward off this ‘grosse Kanone’ [big gun]. Nebel had served briefly in Jasta 5 with Göring in 1916 and he knew how formidable the Kommandeur could be. As Nebel later described the situation:

‘[I was] in the office of my Jagdstaffel when a message came that, shortly, Göring and the most successful [living German] fighter pilot of the First World War, Ernst Udet, would land at my airfield. I instructed my Werkmeister [senior non-commissioned officer] to keep a watchful eye, no matter what happened. Both comrades, who were Oberleutnants, as I was, had scarcely landed when Göring immediately snapped at the unshrinking Werkmeister: “Have a car brought around right away!”

‘Duty bound, the terrified Werkmeister begged the [Kommandeur’s] pardon, but he had to seek the approval of Oberleutnant Nebel in the office.

‘Göring responded: “I order you to have a car brought around right away!”

‘The Werkmeister was feeling smaller and smaller, but [he was] steadfast and stood by his instructions.

‘Göring became ever more enraged: “Then I will court-martial you!”

‘The Werkmeister, who was stuck in the middle, countered: “Whether you or Oberleutnant Nebel court-martials me, it is all the same.”

‘The car did not come and Göring and Udet marched by foot to the city six kilometres away. They made the trip back [to retrieve their aeroplane] in a car they hired in the city.

‘One time later at a nice gathering in … Berlin, I asked Udet what he thought about that incident at the time and he said, grinning: “You know Hermann. If he wants to do something, he will do it, and so we simply walked.”¹⁹

Chivalry or Chimera?

Nearly all wars have produced stories of horrible acts perpetrated by ordinary people caught up in the unholy passion of battle, but there have also been reports of individual actions so exemplary as to be considered chivalric. One such incident was recounted in the early 1930s by Niels Paulli Krause, a Dane who earned high decorations for flying with a French two-seater escadrille [squadron] during most of World War I.²⁰ Later, he told of a hotly-contested aerial combat in which he became the beneficiary of a grand gesture by Hermann Göring.

In his biography, Erich Gritzbach used Krause’s 1930s-era account to demonstrate ‘the esteem in which [Göring] was held by his enemies’.²¹

According to the Dane:

‘One day I was alone on a long mission with my machine and I had taken some photographs when in the distance I could make out a German aeroplane returning from the French lines. As we had to cross paths, I was eager to know who this lone wolf might be. My opponent had also seen me and was heading toward me. We probed a little, circling each another at a great distance. I really had little desire for this circular angling while I was on the way home, but my opponent abruptly began the fight and forced me to respond. We flew around one another, coming ever closer, without finding a clear target. Then suddenly the German machine made a tight turn, almost into a loop, and in an instant its machine gun was trained on me.

‘It all happened so suddenly that I was totally unable to respond. All that ran through my head was that [the pilot] must be some great opponent. Then once again the enemy aeroplane made such an incredible and for that time almost impossible manoeuvre that I knew my opponent was …Göring.

‘Every great flyer has … special tactics. Thus, only Göring could fly like that. As for me, I fought like I had never fought before … And yet I clearly recognised that my opponent was better than I. This was no mere cat-and-mouse game, but a battle with a flying genius against whom it was impossible for me to prevail. I do not know how long we circled each other and strained our bracing wires. Linen tatters in my wings showed that I had been hit many times. But the decisive shot had not yet struck.

‘Then, in the midst of … [my gaining the advantage], my machine gun jammed. I pounded with my fists against the red-hot gun breech, to no avail. I tugged at the ammunition belt, to no avail. My only thought was: “It is all over!” My opponent seemed perplexed that, suddenly, I was no longer shooting at him. He circled around me, noticed me hammering away at the machine gun and understood that I was no longer able to fight. Then suddenly … he flew quite close to me, put his hand to his flying helmet in a military salute, and turned toward the German lines …’²²