MvR in Schweidnitz

‘On 17 September Manfred telegraphed that he would arrive by air in the afternoon. We waited on the parade ground. At six o'clock the red aeroplane appeared, which is now his private property. In the last glow of a pure September day, it gave the impression that it had emerged from the middle of the sun. Manfred first flew over the town, where he was noticed and greeted with great cheers. The previously empty landing site was filled with a throng of people. The roar of voices drowned out the engine. The aircraft touched down as gently as a butterfly. Despite the barriers, we had trouble getting to our home. Manfred's wound was deeper than I had expected. I noticed with sadness that the hair on his head had thinned. It looked as if he was going bald. Perhaps the hair has only fallen out at this point and will grow back again. - As a child, he had such wonderful curls that shimmered like spun sunlight. Albrecht, Lothar and Bolko travelled here. For the first time since Christmas 1915, we were all together again. I was happy in the peace and security of my family. To my horror, I realised that Manfred's head injury was far from healed. The bone is still exposed. Day after day he goes to a local military hospital to have the bandage changed. He looks bad and is irritable. Until now, he had seemed to me like Jung-Siegfried the invulnerable. His elasticity, the easy manner in which he described his aerial battles, had deceived me a little about the terrible danger of his activities. But one after another of the brilliant young flying heroes had fallen. They had all been experts and of unrivalled bravery. Now disaster had also struck Manfred - he had been wounded. ‘How did that actually happen?’ I asked him. ‘You just hit me,’ was the quick reply. He didn't know where the shot had come from. - But probably from the ground. We walked through the garden and now I wanted to say what I had resolved to say: ‘Stop flying, Manfred.’ ‘Who would fight the war if we all thought like that...? Just the soldier in the trenches?...If those called to lead fail, it will soon be like in Russia.’ ‘But the soldier is relieved from time to time, goes into a resting position, while you fight the most dangerous duels several times a day at an altitude of 5,000 metres.’ Manfred became impatient. ‘Would you like it if I went to safety now and rested on my laurels?’ No - there was nothing to be done here; Manfred would continue to fight until - until - the war was over.’