Other factors in assigning Jasta 27 victory claims were Göring’s domineering personality and overly aggressive way of pressing for credit. His bad behaviour was not often discussed in Germany up to and including the World War II years and even anecdotal information about him did not begin to circulate publicly until after his death in 1946. Thus, pre-World War I flyer44 Rudolf Nebel’s second-hand account of one instance appeared only in 1972. Nebel and Göring served briefly together in Jasta 5 in 1916 and, as Nebel had many friends in his country’s small community of fighter pilots, he heard stories such as this one:
‘[Göring] was very standoffish toward his [Jasta 27] comrades. He was a good pilot, but was disliked by his men due to his high-handed manner. Often, after obscured aerial combats, there were disputes about who had really shot down this or that machine. If it could not be ascertained incontestably, it was decided by a toss of the dice. Of course, the victor in this game must give up the next one and be the “loser” without using the dice, so that over time everyone had the same chance. Only Göring did not agree with such a solution. In doubtful cases he always maintained that he had shot down the enemy machine and did not understand why he should not participate in every toss of the dice.’45
Nebel’s anecdote could be contested in this instance by the fact that it was over four weeks before Göring received credit for another aerial victory – his fifteenth – during which time Jasta 27 recorded seven victories (and claimed two more) by other pilots.46 Further, Staffel records show that, aside from a five-day furlough in the second week of October, Göring took part in every patrol and obviously had not altered the reports in his favour.
Irrespective of his methods, Göring’s efforts were rewarded on 8 October, when he was proposed for what might be considered the second highest Prussian bravery award, the Knight’s Cross with Swords of the Royal Hohenzollern House Order.47 This award, which was bestowed by the Kaiser’s own royal house, ‘came to be the customary intermediate award for officers between the Iron Cross 1st Class and the Order Pour le Mérite itself’.48 He received it on 20 October 1917.49 Thus, Göring could be reasonably assured that, with continued valorous service and effective leadership, he was on track to receive the higher award and thereby be among the most exclusive élite of German military aviation.
Great Battle Day in October
In the late autumn, hard-won British advances in Flanders slowed down. Then, as a British historian noted, ‘the High Command decided to continue the pointless offensive during the few remaining weeks before the winter, and thereby used up reserves which might have saved the belated experiment of Cambrai [in November] from bankruptcy’.50
Typically, when Göring wrote about his Flanders experiences in the late 1920s, he considered this time of difficulty for both sides as a triumph of German military might and a time of glory for Loerzer’s and his air units:
‘For months the violent battle continued; month after month the fertile ground of Belgium was assaulted and ripped apart by landmines and artillery shells; for months British troops laboured in a tenacious, dogged fury to move forward and to reach their objective. But for all of those months German will and German fortitude … pushed them back. For just as many months the iron wall of German heroism and German sense of duty neither wavered nor faltered. For months the battle in Flanders raged and roared.
‘The enemy was exhausted; his initial advance, with momentum [from the victory at Messines], had been halted and shattered by the stiff-necked defence and splendid attitude of our troops. Day after day, often week after week, the enemy drew his breath, gathered new forces, [and] once again prepared everything in the best possible way in order to overthrow us with an enormous fresh assault. Yet this lasted only one or two days until, at the point of the highest intensified pressure of battle, it collapsed under the fire of our counter-attack. This most dreadful and most grandiose spectacle of all the months of the raging Battle of Flanders was called a Grosskampftag [great battle day].
‘… Victory or destruction was the watchword! And now a story about… the Grosskampftag in October 1917.
‘The stars in the heavens are still sparkling and in the east the new day is dawning feebly. There is booming and thundering throughout the air. A heavy rumbling and a muffled howling sound drifts through the departing night. A violent tremor runs through the ground and shakes the houses to their foundations. There is an almost supernatural clattering of window panes and from time to time one hears the terrible strike of artillery shell and a thundering, deafening noise, as if all hell is let loose. The heavy drumfire of thousands of big guns of all calibres has begun and brings with it an intensifying momentum of death and total destruction. The awful explosions come from direct hits on ammunition dumps where all at once thousands of shells burst.
‘Instinctively, I sit bolt upright in my bed and, as happens so often, am amazed at the enormous gunfire. Then the telephone rings and rings: “Loerzer here! Good morning. You can hear that we are having a Grosskampftag today. Therefore, our mission is to [fly] in waves, as usual.” I answer that in all of this noise no one will sleep any more, but otherwise all that is missing is the obligatory foul weather by which the British great battle days are always distinguished.
‘As quickly as possible, however, I am present with my Staffel at the airfield, where discussions take place. “Auf wiedersehen! Hopefully, we will bring down some Tommies.” As usual … we declare it will be a great day for our Staffel … today will be looked upon as accomplishing something extraordinary. Grosskampf, Grosskampf roar the big guns at the frontlines uninterrupted. Again quickly, a cup of hot coffee and then we pile into the lorry and are off to the flight line. In the east, the first rays of sunlight flicker upwards as we, shivering in our fur-lined flight suits, arrive at the flight line. A light haze billows across the airfield while in the west heavy cloud banks draw near. Bad weather is approaching. Cannons thunder mightily from the frontlines. The infantry attack must come soon and, with it, the enemy air force. Our job begins.
‘The air defence officer, who has a good view from his post a few kilometres behind our lines, informs us by telephone that enemy flyers at low altitude will open fire on our positions. Immediately afterwards our artillery units call for aerial protection, as British artillery coordination flyers are directing their batteries against ours. And yet a third call for help comes by radio telegraph; it is from our two-seater patrols, requesting assistance against enemy fighter aircraft, which are hindering them from carrying out their missions.
‘Again and again the telephone rings and brings new calls for help up at the battle lines. Now the moment has come for us to attack, to gain aerial superiority and sweep … the enemy out of the air space over our hard-fighting troops. Strong action appears to be requested and, accordingly, I immediately order the entire Staffel to take off, as always split into two flights in order to remain flexible and yet work together.
‘From all the reports flowing in I try to form the clearest picture possible of the air and ground situations. After that I will take action. I ask the neighbouring sectors to inform me quickly which Jasta forces have been deployed in their areas. Then we take off. Everything proceeds smoothly and, after a few minutes, I gather my Staffel around me. Close together, twelve Albatroses storm against the hotly contested frontlines with firm wills to be victorious. A not too disdainful battle force of twenty-four machine guns.
‘The closer we come to the frontlines, the worse the weather becomes. Over the lines … the clouds are unbroken down to 1,000 metres. Intense activity prevails. Great numbers of German and British flyers swirl about on all sides. In between them are bursts of shells and the shrapnel of defensive batteries on both sides. Wherever we encounter the enemy, we attack him. In furious dogfights he is pushed back behind his own lines or forced down. Repeatedly, we push forward into enemy territory in order to clear the airspace for our aerial reconnaissance crews.
‘Meanwhile, the battle below rages on. The ground is splattered and ripped apart by shells battering down on it, masses of earth and stone spray high into the air, in between one sees the long trails of poison gas fumes moving over the ground. Mighty jets of flame shoot up and out from the exploding ammunition dumps. A gigantic wall of smoke, gas, iron and chunks of earth identifies the battle line; in their shelters the British divisions form up for the attack, accompanied by enormous battle tanks. Our infantry grapples with them. The obstacles and barbed wire entanglements lay torn apart and demolished. No trench or dug-out offers protection, as they are filled with rubble. Yet, our own [troops] tenaciously defend themselves in individual shell craters. Murderous machine-gun fire … hits the attackers from hidden nests and earthen mounds and permits them to move forward only slowly. But soon they will be thrown back by a fresh counter-offensive led by our reserve troops. With the cold steel of bayonets there are man-to-man duels; hand grenades are hurled; the flame-throwers issue forth black dense smoke and annihilation.
‘And above this horrible mass killing are the aerial machine guns of airmen, who grapple for supremacy in furious engagements. Again and again new forces from both sides arrive and at times over 100 aeroplanes can be seen above the … ground fighting. It is a mad Witches’ Sabbath in the skies. There, some go rushing down in steep dives; here, others pull up their machines so that they shoot their bullets upward like arrows. In frantic haste some turn tightly around others, eagerly taking great pains to get the opponent in his field of fire. Others rear up, tumble over or lightning quick go into a spin; still others succeed by going inverted or attempt to get away from the opponent in grotesque, desperate turns. Down below, the big guns roar and thunder, the shells burst and crack; up above, the engines, strained to the limit, thunder and rage, and the machine guns clatter and fume. Aeroplanes break apart, machines enveloped in flames and smoke plunge straight down and, far below show the results of total destruction in the air …
‘Storming rain soaks the ground, fills the craters and trenches, and hinders the attacker. It lashes the pilot sharply in the face and obscures his vision, making aiming his weapon almost impossible. In addition to all the other dangers, now there is that of ramming into each other in the rain and misty clouds. Now one can only see the other aeroplanes as shadows..... a crash fragment suddenly appears for a few seconds and just as quickly disappears in the black clouds. Flying in the storm and rain, fog and mist is almost supernatural. One comes back to the airfield half-dead, exhausted and worn down by inhuman exertion and nerve-racking agitation. There are only a few hours of rest, and then the awful battle goes on anew. No weather is able to restrain us fighter pilots.
‘We want to do our part in defence of the mighty battle, the Grosskampf in Flanders.’51
Göring‘s Fifteenth Victory
Göring did not date the events in the preceding text, but, given the intensity of the fighting, it probably took place about the time he was victorious in an air fight on the afternoon of Sunday, 21 October 1917. According to the Jasta 27 war diary summary, at 3:45 p.m., Göring and five other pilots – joined by aircraft from Jastas 4 and 26 – saw five ‘Sopwiths’ attacking an LVG two-seat reconnaissance aeroplane and went to the aid of the German aircraft. In the course of the fight, Jasta 27’s Leutnant der Reserve Fritz Berkemeyer shot down a ‘Sopwith’ over Rumbeke, a few kilometres southeast of Roulers, and Göring sent one down near Bondues, just north of Lille.52 The British aircraft were misidentified; they were, in fact, two S.E.5s of 84 Squadron, RFC, which fell in combat while attacking a ‘red and yellow two-seater’ over Roulers.53 A third S.E.5 from the same squadron was credited to Oberleutnant Kurt von Döring of Jasta 4 as his ninth victory.54 Berkemeyer’s victim was confirmed as his fourth and Göring’s as his fifteenth.55
It is reasonably certain that Göring brought down Australian Second-Lieutenant Arthur E. Hempel,56 who was captured uninjured and sent to a prisoner of war camp in Germany.