Shooting down enemy aircraft was an important achievement in WWI. Success was vital to the infantry, serving to stop frontline strafing, and prevent observation by the enemy. Convinced of the need, every Air Service struggled for maximum combat success. Much effort went into locating the source of a pilot’s air fighting ability. To some it seemed a personal knack–rather like hitting a curve ball–a skill beyond training or even logical description. One either had it or one did not. How were those gifted few to be identified? Was it all a matter of the right genes? An early display of brilliance?
Turning to the most successful of all, Manfred von Richthofen, (the Red Baron) we anticipate quick learning, and the natural combat skills of a born hunter. Instead, we find a mediocre student pilot and a poor shot, unable to hit the target with an airborne machine gun. Lacking any feeling for aerobatics, he opted for sullen denial, disparaging loops as useless stunts.
We sense the man as lacking in important skills, despite the right sort of ancestors, properly military. Given so hapless a start, we uneasily anticipate his end, and a quick end at that. Yet, it was not so.
Richthofen had another side, one that was all-important: the ability to reason and change his mind as circumstances altered. For example, early in the war, speed seemed critical to Richthofen and the Albatros series of fighters supplied that speed. Later in the war, he traded speed away for the extra maneuverability granted him in the form of the Fokker Triplane. His tactics changed accordingly.
He was that rare pilot with a grasp of the relationship between design and tactics. If he could dive away from trouble, diving had virtue as a tactic. However, if his machine had little to offer as a diver, with enemy aircraft easily out-speeding his airplane in descent, then no tactic was more stupid than evasion by diving. In short, tactics did not stand alone. Much had to do with the nature of his machine, as compared to the enemy’s.
Granted the importance of tactics in winning or losing, other factors were also important. How did tactics rank? After much combat experience, Canadian ace Billy Bishop1 supplied a priority rating for tactics, granting it second place, one immediately after shooting skill. As for telling good from bad, he used a prudent rule: “take a minimum of risk and whenever things look at all doubtful or bad, immediately make my escape.”2 The important thing was “to use one’s head.” Guile and stealth were vital; bravado was so much nonsense. In his estimation, flying skill itself deserved third, or last place.
Even as we sense the self-preserving wisdom underlying Bishop’s conclusions, there came a severe criticism of Richthofen for employing that same level of caution; this given by Captain A. Roy Brown, an ace credited by many with the downing of the Red Baron himself. In Brown’s view, Richthofen sought mainly easy victims: “He picked off lame ducks pulling [away] from a fight. He specialized in swooping on slow-motion artillery planes.”3
Whether the accusation was true or not, the tone of condemnation was clear. We sense a demand that acceptable tactics embrace more than the limitations of one’s aircraft and skill– they must pass muster as properly heroic.
To some extent, this burden of selflessness derived from the demands of strategy. The British were convinced that an offensive outlook was crucial to the production of ultimate victory. In practice this meant that every British airplane in good repair was to fight nearby enemy machines, no matter what the circumstances, and without concern for immediate victory. This approach was precisely the opposite of Bishop’s. As a tactic ‘always fight’ amounted to an anti-tactic; one ignoring immediate prospects in the hope of achieving a long-term goal: the exhaustion of the enemy under the blows of an overwhelming number of British, French , Italian and American flyers. Ignored was a bitter truth: to join combat in the wrong circumstances meant only a suicidal sacrifice.
To Richthofen a certain nobility of tactics was important. One must not pretend to be wounded in order to lure an unsuspecting enemy to his doom. At the same time ‘always fight’ was judged to be stupid, for only a fool could ignore the plain lessons and odds of combat. As Richthofen well understood, there are times when it is best to flee rather than fight.
This book is concerned with tactics; especially those tactics used by the Red Baron and his opponents. We open by freshly considering the means of Richthofen’s death. Competing claimants are examined in terms in terms of logic, rather than the usual contradictory eyewitness reports. Ground anti-aircraft fire is examined in terms of hit probability. Richthofen’s crossing of the frontlines on the fatal day, and the most dangerous altitude for doing so are developed. His attacker’s chances are viewed by means of machine gun scatter studies. We conclude by rating the possibility of Richthofen’s death by rifleman as quite possible; certainly as likely as any of the more celebrated possibilities.
The history of aerial tactics is lightly sketched. Guns and gunnery influences leading to machine gun usage as the tool best suited for air combat are given, followed with the highly successful Fokker diving attack procedures. Treated next are the corresponding defensive techniques, leading to cooperation by shrewd two-seater crews – pilot and gunner – in fighting off attack.
Numbers were important in determining the level of assault firepower. Tactics of formations are given, as well as those of formation busters, intent upon reversing the odds and turning large numbers into a disadvantage.
A pilot’s nature and emotions had much to do with making a choice between options. What were the aces like? What traits and backgrounds made for the ability to grapple with a jammed machine gun when in combat? How were tactics tailored to suit personality? A dozen high achievers are examined in terms of tactics and background.
Our goal is to satisfy those who care about the ‘how and why’ of Great War air combat. Our method throughout leans heavily on engineering and aerodynamic techniques, treated in a popular style. Absent are serial numbers, squadron personnel listings and propaganda-laced reports. Offered instead is the logic of those men behind “big fuss” air combat – the elements defining the Red Baron’s air war.
Those readers with a long memory will sense altered thinking about certain issues treated in earlier volumes by this author. For example, the Red Baron’s killer, though still uncertain, is now regarded as unlikely to be Captain Brown, portrayed as the principal suspect in the initial volume Three Wings for the Red Baron. Why the change? Months of study have had their effect and perhaps we know a bit more. Chapter 1 will introduce you to the chancy evidence and conclusions, much of it dependent upon possibilities and probabilities. Hopefully, we have moved closer to the truth, but that is for you to decide. Best wishes for a fascinating, if rocky journey.