class="smcap">P., April 25, 1915

To-morrow I leave here; I have been transferred to the —— Flying Squadron, which is just being established. To-morrow I go to Berlin to report at the inspection of aviators.

P., May 16, 1915

Safely back in P. The trip was made in comparatively quick time.

P., May 17, 1915

We had to leave here this afternoon, after we had hardly arrived. I am very glad. New scenery and something doing.

D., May 22, 1915

I had hoped to have plenty to do here, but the weather cancelled our plans. We had plenty of time to establish ourselves, assemble our machines and tune them up with a few flights.

The city is entirely unharmed and the greater part of the inhabitants are still here. The city gives an impression similar to Zerbst—a modern section with cottages and an old section with older houses: the city hall, remains of the old city wall, and so-forth. The inhabitants are prosperous. All the stores, hotels, coffee-houses and cafés are open. Every day two of my friends (Immelmann and Lieutenant P.) and I go to one of these coffee-houses.

D., May 25, 1915

By chance, I witnessed a great military spectacle. As I did not have to fly in the afternoon, I went to the artillery observer’s post with our Captain. About four o’clock we reached V.; from here we had another half hour’s walk ahead of us. From a distance we could see there was heavy firing going on. The Major, in the company’s bomb-proof, told us that the artillery would hardly have time now to avail themselves of airplanes to find the range for them. The French were just at the time trying to get revenge for an attack we made the day before, and the artillery was very busy. From there we went to the observer’s post and were very lucky. Our batteries were just firing at the enemy’s, our airplanes finding the range for them. Suddenly the non-commissioned officer at the double-periscope yelled over to us that the French were bringing up reinforcements through the communicating trenches. The Lieutenant of Artillery ran over to the field artillery and showed them the beautiful target. Soon after that a few of our shrapnel burst over these positions. Bang! And the enemy was gone. Suddenly a ball of red fire appeared in the first French trench. This meant—shells fall ahead of trenches; place shots further back. Just then, over a front of one and a half kilometers, a whole brigade of Frenchmen rose from the trenches, shoulder to shoulder, a thing I had never seen before. We have to admire them for their courage. In front, the officers about four or five steps in the lead; behind them, in a dense line, the men, partly negroes, whom we could recognize by their baggy trousers. The whole line moved on a run. For the first four hundred meters (in all they had seven hundred meters to cover) we let them come without firing. Then we let them have our first shrapnel. As the artillery knew the exact range, the first shots were effective. Then came the heavier shells. We now opened a murderous fire; it was so loud that we could not hear each other at two paces. Again and again our shells struck the dense masses and tore huge gaps in them, but, in spite of this, the attack continued. The gaps were always quickly closed. Now our infantry took a hand. Our men stood up in the trenches, exposed from the hips up, and fired like madmen. After three or four minutes the attack slackened in spots; that is, parts of the line advanced, others could not. After a quarter of an hour the French on our left wing, which I could see, reached our trenches, shot and stabbed from above, and finally jumped in. Now we could plainly see the hand-to-hand combat: heads bobbing back and forth, guns clubbed (they seemed to be only trying to hit, not kill), glistening bayonets, and a general commotion. On the right wing, things progressed slower, almost at a standstill. In the middle a group jumped forward now and then, and into them the artillery fired with telling effect. We could see men running wildly about, they could not escape our artillery fire. The whole slope was strewn with bodies. After about a quarter of an hour the Frenchmen started to retreat. First one, then two, then three, came out of our trenches, looked all around, and started for their own trenches. In the meantime more troops came up from the rear. But after the first few started to run more came out of the trenches, until finally all were out and retreating. Our men also got out to be able to fire at the retreating enemy to better advantage. Again and again the French officers tried to close up their ranks, rally their men, and lead them anew to the attack.

But in vain, for more and more sought safety in flight. Many dropped—I think more than in the advance. In the center, the French had advanced to within fifty meters of us, and could get no closer. As the retreat started on the left, some in the center also lost heart, and fled like frightened chickens. But almost all were killed. I saw six running away when a shell exploded near them. The smoke disappeared; there were only four left. A second shell, and only one was left. He was probably hit by the infantry. The following proves how completely we repelled their attack: Four Frenchmen rose, waved their arms and ran toward our trench. Two of them carried a severely wounded comrade. Suddenly they dropped their burden and ran faster toward us. Probably their comrades had fired on them. Hardly were these four in our trenches when fifty more of them got up, waved their caps and ran toward us. But the Frenchmen didn’t like this, and in a second four well-placed shells burst between them and us; probably they were afraid that there would be a general surrender on the part of their men. The retreat was now general. At 6:15 the main battle was over. Afterward we could see here and there a few Frenchmen running or crawling to their trench.

I was very glad I had the opportunity to see this. From above, we aviators don’t see such things.

PILOT OF A BATTLEPLANE

D., June 24, 1915

Yesterday the Crown Prince of Bavaria, our chief, inspected our camp. Here we have gathered samples of about everything that our knowledge of aviation has developed: Two airplane squadrons and one battleplane division. Both airplane squadrons are equipped with the usual biplanes, only we have an improvement: the wireless, by means of which we direct the fire of our artillery. The battleplane squadron is here because there is a lot to do at present on this front (the West). Among them there are some unique machines, for example: a great battleplane with two motors: for three passengers, and equipped with a bomb-dropping apparatus—it is a huge apparatus. Outside of this, there are other battleplanes with machine guns. They are a little larger than the usual run. Then there are some small Fokker monoplanes, also with machine guns. So we have everything the heart can desire. The squadron has only made one flight, but since then the French haven’t been over here. I guess