To the Last Man - Jeff Shaara [223]
With his planes still sitting quietly in their hangars, Richthofen continued to bow to the wishes of the High Command, traveling to Berlin once again, and once again, the crowds had followed him. But the city had changed, and even a hero’s welcome could not hide the turmoil that was brewing. The conditions for the German people continued to worsen, a hard stranglehold on all manner of food and supplies, enforced by the British naval blockade. But those who held tightly to their faith in the kaiser received a hard shock with the collapse of the czarist government in Russia. In the streets of the larger German cities, where the suffering of the people was most severe, the success of the Russian Revolution gave a new burst of energy and inspiration to those who saw the war as a cause celebrated only by Kaiser Wilhelm and his cronies. To many, the kaiser was not so different from Czar Nicholas, just another symbol of the arrogance and excess of old Europe, another despotic ruler whose folly had accomplished nothing but the starvation of his own people. The German Bolsheviks were bolder now, workers defying orders not to march, shouting their protests into the faces of frightened soldiers, some of whom were beginning to show sympathy for the workers they were supposed to be arresting. In Berlin, Richthofen had been kept clear of any kind of public unpleasantness, the High Command still taking advantage of his presence as the symbol of the inevitable German victory. The smiles from the crowd were as they had always been, and the photographers continued to annoy him as they always had. But Richthofen soon escaped Berlin as he had escaped Prince Leopold, wanting only to slip free of the clinging tentacles of politics and return to his planes.
In March, with the beginning of the German offensive, there was only one place for Richthofen to be, and with a great battle exploding across the ground below him, he had again led JG-1 in a string of dominating successes. But the celebrating was marred by the crash of his brother, whose triplane had lost a wing while engaged in a difficult fight with a squadron of British scouts. Lothar had survived, but his injuries were severe, and he was confined to a hospital in Dusseldorf for a lengthy stay. JG-1 had lost one of its best pilots, a gap that Richthofen had taken great pains to fill. But the loss was received differently at Schweidnitz. Richthofen knew that his mother would enjoy the peace of mind that at least one of her sons would not be flying again for some time.
WITH THE STUNNING SUCCESS OF THE GERMAN OFFENSIVE, OFFICIAL Berlin could begin to ignore the turmoil erupting outside the government buildings. The loud Bolshevik voices of dissent were drowned out now by cheers, the civilian government rallying around the military commanders who were finally bringing them tangible victory on the battlefield. For the first time since Richthofen had taken command, the civilian officials began to appear at the aerodrome, each one overflowing with the enthusiasm that only success can bring. The orders had come from von Hoeppner’s office, and Richthofen would obey, would offer an open door to the aerodrome and a gracious reception to the civilian officials who had suddenly been allowed to see themselves as a part of Germany’s great military effort. The civilian government was