Yesterday I attended the Dawn Patrol Rendezvous World War I Fly-In at the Air Force Museum in Dayton. This is a biannual event featuring full and seven-eighths size replicas of World War I combat aircraft. The pilots spent about an hour and a half in the air, during part of which they engaged in mock dogfights and precision flying maneuvers. Since I have been fascinated with World War I fighter pilots since I was a small child (my favorite song when I was six was "Snoopy and the Red Baron), this was an event that I couldn't pass up.
While I have been fascinated with World War I fighter pilots in general since I was a small child, there is one in particular who has always captivated my imagination. Baron Manfred von Richthofen was without question the greatest fighter pilot of World War I, and is the most famous fighter pilot in history. He was credited with eighty kills (and was responsible for several uncredited kills) before being killed himself on the morning of April 21, 1918 during a low altitude dogfight over Allied lines, falling victim either to Australian ground fire or Captain Roy Brown, a Canadian flying for the British Royal Air Force. Manfred was the eldest son of a father who had had his own distinguished military career cut short as a consequence of deafness brought about by his heroic efforts to save several soldiers from drowning in the Oder River and who had decided even before Manfred was born that his first son would pursue a military career. Manfred finished cadet school and joined the cavalry in 1911, three years before the outbreak of the war. He had been a star athlete while in school. He entered the war as a twenty-two year old cavalry scout in 1914, but transferred to the Flying Service in May of 1915, after barbed wire and machine guns had rendered mounted cavalry obsolete.
Manfred had been a national champion hunter prior to the war, an avocation influenced by his uncle, a noted big-game hunter in Africa and Asia. Richthofen had grown fond of trophies and ribbons, and soon became known for his custom of ordering a small silver cup engraved with his new kill total, type of aircraft shot down, date, and number of crewmen aboard the enemy plane after each of his aerial victories. He would also land near or drive to the wreckage of each of his kills and procure a souvenir, often a strip of canvass displaying the enemy aircraft's serial number, which he would then have shipped home to be stored in his room. In order to increase his fame by drawing attention to himself and to ensure that he received credit for his kills, von Richthofen painted his entire aircraft bright red, thus earning the moniker "The Red Baron". Von Richthofen was honored by being the only pilot in the Flying Service allowed to paint his entire aircraft red. Over the course of a single month, in April of 1917, the "Red Baron" scored twenty-two kills.
Germany feared the damage to the nation's morale should it's greatest fighter pilot and one of it's greatest national heroes be killed in action, and Richthofen was encouraged to retire on several occasions, a proposition which he steadfastly refused to consider, stating that as long as the average German foot soldier had no say in whether or to remain in the war he would continue to fly.
The aircraft pictured above is a full-scale replica of a Fokker Dr.I triplane, which flew at the show yesterday. This is the type of aircraft with which von Richthofen is generally associated with and which he flew from October of 1917 until his death six months later and in which he scored twenty of his kills. Below are a couple of pictures of some of the other aircraft that flew at the show. All of my pictures are from the Air Force Museum website (I lost my camera).
The show also had displays depicting other aspects of World War I military life, not all of them aviation related. One of the most interesting such displays for me, given that my maternal grandfather was an infantryman on the Western Front, was one pertaining to the gear carried by the typical World War I American infantryman. The average infantryman only weighed in at the surprisingly low weight of a little over a hundred and forty pounds but their gear tipped the scales at sixty-five pounds. They did make an attempt to ease the soldiers’ burden when possible. For example, in order to reduce weight and conserve space each soldier carried only half of a tent. You had a partner who carried the other half. When fully assembled these tents were only about the size of the smallest of the pup tents that children use today to camp out in the back yard. If your buddy got killed that day you had to find another soldier who also needed a new partner. Their uniforms were made of rough wool. This certainly isn't the most comfortable material in the world, but it is warm and it dries in a couple of hours when you hang it out in the sun, a critical factor given what the conditions were like in terms of both combat and everyday living on the Western Front. This was also about the time that canned foods were becoming popular and canneries were being established in the United States, so soldiers typically carried regular sized cans of corned beef and other canned foods. Canned tomatoes were extremely popular with the doughboys. Another of the most popular canned items was raw pumpkin!
The show also included an antique car show featuring automobiles of pre-1920 vintage. One interesting fact that I was not aware of prior to attending this show is that in the early years of the automotive industry in all American models the driver's seat was located on the right-hand side, as is the case with the Cadillac pictured above. After getting home and doing some research on the Internet I learned that while driving on the right-hand side has been the rule of the American road dating at least back to the time of the Revolutionary War, during horse and buggy days the driver sat on the right hand side so as to have a better view of the edge of the road so as not to run into a roadside ditch. However, once much faster moving automobiles made their appearance, it was deemed more prudent that the driver should be seated on the left in order to more effectively gauge the distance between his or her car and traffic moving in the opposite direction, thereby reducing the chances of a head-on collision. Moving the driver's seat from the right to the left was also in keeping with the concepts of chivalry in force at that time, as it allowed the front seat passenger to exit directly onto the sidewalk in times of wet or wintry weather, whereas if the driver's seat remained on the right side of the car the passenger would have to walk completely around the car to reach the sidewalk after exiting the car (at this time it was assumed that the driver most likely would be the male head of household while the passenger would in all likelihood be his wife or child). The following is an excerpt from a 1908 Ford catalog extolling the virtues of the switch.
"The control is located on the left side, the logical place, for the following reasons: Traveling along the right side of the road the steering wheel on the right side of the car made it necessary to get out on the street side and walk around the car. This is awkward and especially inconvenient if there is a lady to be considered. The control on the left allows you to step out of the car on to the curbing without having had to turn the car around.
In the matter of steering with the control on the right the driver is farthest away from the vehicle he is passing, going in opposite direction; with it on the left side he is able to see even the wheels of the other car and easily avoids danger.
With the wheel at the left, the hand levers are operated with the left hand leaving the right hand to do the more delicate work of steering the car."
It seems that all American manufacturers had made the switch prior to 1920.
