Heil Richthofen

The Rebirth

In the years since the war, the Red Baron felt at peace. Manfred von Richthofen felt glad that the war was over. Of course, he missed the thrill of flying, being in the air, free as a bird, but it didn't quite feel the same anymore. The final year of the war had broken him. So many of his good friends had gone into the air and never came back. It was a time where technology triumphed over skill, and all of a sudden, flying had lost its glory. At least to him.

Manfred had spent most of the year of 1918 in and out of the hospital, recovering from a head wound he had received in mid-July. It was a hard time, and he had longed to be back up in the air. He had hated the worst of all to receive reports of his comrades fallen in battle, and knowing that he was not there to help them, to prevent their deaths. Finally, in early October, he was given the okay to go back up in the air. For him, the squadron had been different. Many of his men, many of his good friends, were simply not there. The fact that he had not been able to save them haunted him. He was relieved when the war finally ended. He was tired. Troubled. For him, the only thing left to do was to return home and rest.

It was now 1929. Manfred had felt like he'd grown over the years. The war had opened his eyes, and he never wanted to experience another one again. Just the thought of it brought back the disturbing memories. He lived alone in the countryside, and he was happy. His years of solitude healed him, and he felt like he had in the early days of the war, quiet and peaceful. Only a choice few were permitted to visit him, and anyone else was viewed unfavorably by him.

Today was a different experience. Manfred had gone out to get the newspaper when he saw a peculiar sight: a lone man, walking up the road. He'd never seen this man before, and already felt disturbed by his mere presence in the area. The man came closer, and Manfred made a move to leave, when he saw the man raise his hand and wave, as if he was a long-lost friend. "Hello!" The man called out.

Manfred refused to move. "Who are you, and what is your business here?"

The man smiled warmly. "Ah, the mystical Rote Kampfflieger!"

Manfred frowned. "Those days are far behind me, mein Herr. Please identify yourself."

"I am Peter Faumer, I represent the new national socialist party."

Manfred raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "And this should concern me how?"

"Our party is dedicated to restoring Germany to its former glory." Faumer explained. "We've been gaining a big influence among the German people lately, and we are looking for new members. We were hoping you would join us. Why, Herr Udet and Herr Goring have joined. I understand they are old friends of yours?"

"Udet and Goring..." Manfred became very quiet. He remembered them. His mind trailed off to when he had received the news of all the death. He began to become nervous and unsettled, and his soft blue eyes reflected this.

"Would you like to join?" Faumer asked, breaking him out of his trance.

"No." Manfred said, rather quickly.

Faumer seemed disappointed. "I understand. I am sorry I have troubled you."

"No, no. It's fine." Manfred sighed.

"Good day, herr Richthofen." Faumer made a polite bow and walked back from the way he came.

Manfred watched Faumer leave and turned back to his home, shaking his head. He sat down in a chair in front of the fireplace and let out a deep sigh. Unfolding the newspaper, he found that the front page showed news of the National Socialist party, which Faumer had come from. He could tell that there was something horrible about these men. They were surrounded by flags, showing a swastika tilted on its axis, as if in motion. These flags looked authoritative and angry. Manfred could feel a certain evil in them. He could tell that there was nothing "socialist" about these men. They were a special breed of dictators, wanting only power above all else. And there was no better place to take power than in a broken, bitter country. He could see right through them. His only question, why couldn't anyone else?