‘On the telephoned orders of the Kommandeur der Flieger 6, Jasta 27 is to depart as circumstances require on a special request by the Kommandeur der Flieger 4 in the sector of the 4th Army, particularly in the Wytschaete Salient. In accordance with Heeresgruppe [Army Group of Bavarian Crown Prince] Rupprecht I c order 18562 of 2 June 1917, Jagdstaffeln 30 and 27 are to shift the point of emphasis of their combat activity exclusively to the Wytschaete Salient.’¹⁰

The following evening, Göring did not score, but at about 6:50 p.m., Offizierstellvertreter Klein attacked and was credited with shooting down a Royal Naval Air Service Sopwith Triplane.¹¹

On Tuesday, 5 June, Göring led a late morning flight, after which he reported:

‘Combat with two Sopwith single-seaters [over Wytschaete¹²]. I pressed one down all the way to the trenches, where it suddenly disappeared from before my eyes. The last I saw of him he was weaving back and forth, tumbling like a falling card. British single-seaters coming from above to assist were no longer able to help the Sopwith.’¹³

Apparently, the British pilot’s manoeuvres fooled Göring and the aeroplane returned to its own aerodrome, as the Royal Flying Corps combat casualty list contains no mention of a destroyed or damaged Sopwith single-seater arising from this encounter. Likewise, there was no German confirmation of a kill by Jasta 27 on this day.¹⁴

While leading an evening flight of four aeroplanes over the same area on Friday, 8 June, Göring shot down a British Nieuport single-seat fighter and received credit for his eighth aerial victory.¹⁵ That aerial battle is discussed in detail on page 107-109.

The next afternoon, Göring and five comrades encountered British aircraft, two of which they attacked. Göring reported that ‘the opponent was driven off’, yet, in his own combat report, he claimed to have hit a B.E.2 reconnaissance plane east of Roulers at about 5:00 p.m. He said he was stopped from finishing off the two-seater when the empty portion of his ammunition belt came loose and jammed one of his machine guns. He made ‘an intermediate landing at Abeele … [to] Jagdstaffel 26 to refill … ammunition’.¹⁶ He was not credited with shooting down the B.E.2.

Based on verbal orders from its army corps aviation commanders, on Saturday, 16 June, Jasta 27 prepared to move fifty kilometres northward from Bersée, France in the 6th Armee Sector to Iseghem, Belgium in the 4th Armee Sector. Leutnant der Reserve Karl Riehm, the Staffel adjutant, organised transportation and other arrangements while Staffelführer Göring led seven of the unit’s Albatroses along the frontlines from Lens to Roulers and then to their new airfield. No aerial combats were reported and, upon reaching Iseghem, they were greeted by members of Jasta 26, still under the command of Göring’s closest friend, Oberleutnant Bruno Loerzer.¹⁷

There were no flight operations on Friday, 22 June, but Jasta 27 was identified in the 4th Army weekly report as being attached to Gruppe Jeperen [Ypres],¹⁸ marking a shift in operational emphasis (within a very tight air defence boundary) from Wytschaete to Ypres, just over five kilometres to the north.

In the course of Jasta 27’s afternoon patrol, between Ypres and Wytschaete, on Sunday, 24 June, Göring and three other pilots spotted isolated British aircraft within their own lines. Apparently the aeroplanes were protecting a British tethered observation balloon, one of several such craft in use to help range the guns of British artillery units. Göring and his men approached the frontlines, were greeted by red warning rounds of presumably phosphorous ammunition and did not proceed further.¹⁹ That reticence was an odd reaction by the usually aggressive Staffelführer Göring and his not crossing the lines allowed British forces to hit German ground gunners in his sector. As one Allied source reported that day: ‘Artillery of the [British] Second Army successfully dealt with nineteen hostile batteries, damaging ten gun pits and causing thirteen explosions.’²⁰

Finally, continued rain on 30 June no doubt led to the cancellation of Jasta 27’s flight operations for that day and the next. The Staffel did not report flying again until 2 July. While there is no evidence that Hermann Göring experienced a single day like that in his description above, he did have a hard-fought and successful engagement of a different nature on the morning of Friday, 8 June.

Göring’s Eighth Victory

He wrote about that day when his recollection of events was sharper, for an anthology of German wartime aviation reminiscences that appeared in 1920:

‘It was on 8 June 1917. The unnatural heat of early summer … still weighed oppressively over the countryside. The sun stood brightly in the sky, yet it was just six o’clock [in the morning] and therefore still somewhat cool. I wanted to make the most of it. A few minutes later the entire Jagdstaffel flew closely together under my leadership towards the northwest. I went by our actual Front to the left, because we had been assigned to fly in support of the 4th Army in Flanders. There, the battle in the Wytschaete Salient had flared up and with it the beginning of the great British offensive in Flanders, which amid violent battles would continue on into the winter.

‘Bathed in a torrent of sunshine, Lille lay before us. There was clear visibility as far as we could see; there was heavy haze only in the south near Arras. It was a glorious feeling to fly through the radiant morning, full of eager expectation about what the next hours would bring. Behind me followed a group formation of ten aeroplanes of my Staffel. I’d been their leader for just a few days and had not yet tested the pilots sufficiently. So it was all the more urgent to make sure that the enemy would not come up from behind and pounce on them and slaughter them before I could speed back to help them, as they were all still new as fighter pilots. Yet I was in good spirits and full of fervour to train this good material into a dashing, battle-ready Staffel.

‘We were up to about 4,000 metres when we flew over the Lys river and had thereby reached our hunting ground, which lay about sixty kilometres away from our airfield. Below on the battlefield there was a wild battle going on; very heavy mortar and barrage fire was falling onto already battered positions. But I did not have time to observe this enormous battle; I had to search for the enemy and hit him. I did not have to wait long: above us appeared a Nieuport formation of twelve units. They were hard to see, these small, silver-grey fighting machines; cleverly, they sat [with the sun behind them] and from there dived onto us. The … battle began. My formation split up too early and could no longer fight in a unified way. I was as wary as a lynx whenever one of my men was in danger and dashed over to him to give him room to manoeuvre. Then I had to go after this one and then that opponent to support those being harried. But my pilots struck back well and threw the opponent back behind his own lines.

‘During this engagement all the action drops down lower. I had just taken a deep breather from the wild mêlée when suddenly I see an opponent above me. Carefully, he stalks me from out of the sun in order to surprise me and shoot me down from behind. I realise his intention, let him approach and know that it will come to a decisive battle. He has the tactically better position and I have the stronger machine and a favourable wind. The duel can begin. Now he believes that he has seized a favourable moment and comes down on me like a hawk. That is what I am waiting for; I push my machine down a bit to pick up momentum, pull it around in a flash and powerfully rise up towards him, at the same time opening fire with both machine guns. Instead of his catching me from behind and surprising me, I hit him from the front and parry his thrust, surprising him. He has gone from the attacker to the attacked. My burst of fire is on the mark, for immediately he goes into a spin to get away from it … and now I am on his heels and forcing him down with my machine-gun fire. A frenzied mêlée begins. Around to the right, around to the left, loops, turns, pulling the machine up high and at the same time letting it side-slip again. Every feint and trick is used in an attempt to get behind the other, to get above him to get on the inside of a turn in order to bring to bear a burst of fire right on the target. Often we rush so closely by each other that [we] believe we are going to crash into each other.

‘The Englishman flies splendidly, skilfully and smartly; I see him clearly, sitting in his machine. The battle is furious, exciting and strenuous, neither of us wants to give up, each hopes resolutely for victory. I skid into a turn and my opponent has already spotted his advantage and in a rage pounds away at me with his weapons. Several hits strike my aeroplane close behind me. Again I bring my machine up as straight as a candle and fire at the Englishman. He has also taken some hits. In a nosedive he roars by me and tries to make good his escape from me. I put my bird on its nose and chase after him. He begins anew to twist wildly in order to get away from my fire. Now we are at no more than 2,000 metres’ altitude. Once again he furiously takes up the battle and tries to attack me. Now I have only a few bullets, they must be expended carefully. The decision must come quickly, for I have become sick of the idiotic turning. Yet he defends himself desperately. I must exert myself to the utmost. With my last bit of resolution I throw myself at him and at extremely close range I drive my shots into his machine. He goes tumbling down, his engine is off; he is shot to pieces.

‘Just above the ground he starts his engine once again and tries to land, but the landing goes badly, [and] his machine is smashed to bits. He himself is hurled out, but remains uninjured. The victory is finally mine and the Englishman is taken prisoner … But my strength is at an end, my knees shake, my pulse is pounding, my entire body is soaking wet because I had to work so hard during the battle. It was a tough struggle.

‘The gruelling battle had lasted ten minutes. The Englishman was an evenly matched opponent. A few minutes later I landed near my friend Loerzer [commander of Jasta 26 at Iseghem] in order to recuperate and to fortify myself with a hearty breakfast. The telephone reported from the frontlines that my opponent was taken prisoner. He was an experienced fighter pilot, who had already shot down five German aeroplanes. I was able to speak with him and … we both made flattering comments about this difficult battle. In the afternoon I returned to my airfield. Thank goodness, I said to myself, it is better that Mister Slee²¹ is on my victory list as the eighth²² instead of my being on his as Number Six!’²³

Göring’s opponent was Australian-born Second-Lieutenant Frank D. Slee of 1 Squadron, RFC, who flew one of four Nieuport 23 fighters that departed at 5:25 that morning on a two-hour offensive patrol (O.P.) from Poelcapelle to Passchendaele to Wervicq. According to an RFC report:

‘Between Poelcapelle and Becelaere, at 14,000 to 18,000 feet, six H.A. [hostile aeroplanes] were engaged by patrol. Lt Hazell drove one down in a series of rolls – Decisive. Confirmed by 2/Lt Fullard. He also drove one down vertical – Indecisive. 2/Lt Fullard sent one down in flames – Decisive. One of the H.A. was painted black fuselage with white band and red crosses on band.

‘2/Lt Fullard saw a Nieuport going down vertical with an Albatross [sic] on its tail.

‘2/Lt Nuding made a forced landing … owing to [his] engine being hit by a bullet – machine turned over on landing. Pilot unhurt.

‘2/Lt Slee fell behind enemy lines.’²⁴

Despite the RFC claims, there were no matching German fighter casualties that day.²⁵ However, another view of Slee’s encounter with Göring was made public in 2003, when the Australian pilot’s son, John, released part of his father’s wartime memoir. That text revealed that, despite Göring’s contention that Slee was an RFC ace, the Australian was on his first mission over the lines when the Jasta 27 Albatroses struck. Slee wrote that his flight commander, Lieutenant Tom Falcon Hazell, instructed him: ‘Don't join in any scraps this trip. Just pull out to the side and watch, then rejoin us.’²⁶

Apparently, the twenty-three-year-old Nieuport pilot could not resist going after Göring’s aeroplane, which was below him and seemed to be an ideal target. Slee dived on it and opened fire. Later he wrote: ‘I will swear I hit his machine. I could see my tracer bullets.’²⁷ But as Slee pursued his intended victim eastward, into German territory, he was attacked by two other Albatroses and, eventually, his Nieuport’s engine was knocked out and Slee had to head for the ground. He found a flat meadow and landed, after which he was captured before he could set fire to his aeroplane.

When he was in German custody, Slee was visited by three German pilots, with whom he ‘had a broken conversation in schoolboy French’. After reading an account of the fight in a 1950 Göring biography by Willi Frischauer, the Australian learned who his opponent had been.

Slee’s French-built Nieuport 23 fighter was the fifth aeroplane that Göring shot down while flying the Albatros D.III (serial number 2049/16)²⁸ that he had brought with him from Jasta 26. Despite Slee’s best efforts to destroy or disable that Albatros, it was none the worse for wear and Göring went on to use it five weeks later, when he scored his ninth confirmed aerial victory.