It was most important for us to ascertain what was happening in the open country, as since the 27th of September we had been completely shut off behind our barbed wire. We were, above all, anxious to find out where the enemy kept his siege artillery and, as we had been disappointed in the reliability of our observation balloon, nothing remained but an occasional smart reconnaissance and—my aeroplane!
The days of August sped by in ceaseless labour. Kiao-Chow and its approaches became unrecognizable, and defensive positions for artillery were opened. To our sorrow the delightful little wood, which had been planted with so much care, the pride of Kiao-Chow, was felled by our axes to clear the zone of fire. How sad to destroy at one blow the loving work of “Kultur”!
The 23rd of August, the day on which the Japanese ultimatum expired, broke at last, and it is comprehensible that no answer was vouchsafed to the yellow Jap. The password was: “Go for them!” And this was our dearest wish.
I remember that, on the following morning, as I looked out from my balcony over the wide blue sea I noticed at a distance of some nautical miles several black shadows which slowly moved to and fro. I was even able to distinguish torpedo-boat destroyers through my telescope. Patzig, who came at a run to join my observations, also convinced himself of this. Of course—was it not the 24th? So the gang was blockading us! And the Japanese had actually dared to attack the German Empire!
The fight of a yellow race, abetted by a handful of Englishmen, against one German regiment on a war footing had begun.
Immediately on the expiration of the ultimatum a troop of one thousand men moved into the extreme outposts of the territory, in order to protect it as well as the roads of approach. This little detachment admirably fulfilled its task. It had to defend a tract of land which was 30 kilometres wide, and then another one of 10 kilometres, with quite insufficient artillery. A thousand men had to replace two army corps! They fought stubbornly and courageously, sometimes only able to oppose flying patrols to enemy battalions, retreating step by step before the fearful odds. Only on the 28th of September were they pushed back behind the principal retrenchments, which now definitely closed upon us until the end of the combat.
During the early days of the siege I must say that aeroplanes as well as aircraft generally were held in small esteem by the responsible authorities of the Kiao-Chow garrison. This, one must admit, was only natural, considering our luckless exhibitions. However, a swift change soon took place. One day I again flew over the south coast of the Shantung peninsula, on the look out for enemy ships or landing troops. The coast appeared deserted, and there was nothing to be seen. Much relieved that we were safe from that side at least, I flew home. Quite accidentally I went to Government House in the evening to see a comrade there. There I encountered by chance the head of the General Staff, who was in a tearing hurry as he had left an important conference at the Governor’s in order to fetch a book.
He called out to me as he was passing: “Well, Plüschow, did you fly again?”