Shortly after crash-landing

A lieutenant in an air-observation post about a mile away had seen Richthofen's fall through his telescope and rushed to the spot under the two circling scouts. When he and a corporal reached Richthofen, they found him unconscious. After opening his collar and taking off the soaked helmet, they applied a field dressing to the wound. Woodbridge's bullet had left a four-inch crease in Richthofen's head, furrowing deeply enough so that, after the blood was washed off, his skull was plainly visible. So were several bone splinters. While the enlisted man ran for a field telephone, more soldiers arrived. Richthofen regained consciousness and was offered cognac. He declined it in favor of water. By the time an ambulance came, the Red Battle Flier was deathly white, running a high temperature, and feeling successively hot and cold. When the ambulance reached Menin, the site of the nearest aid station, he asked where he was. The medical officer, junior in rank and knowing who he was, told him. Richthofen then insisted on being taken to the hospital in Courtrai, having weighed the superior medical facilities there against the time lost.  The doctor shrugged compliance, and the ambulance was off again.