On the forenoon of the 5th of September, under an overcast sky, with low-hanging clouds, we suddenly heard the purring of a motor, and I ran home to see what had happened. I was hardly there when an immense biplane shot into sight close over our heads. I was speechless, and peered dazedly at the apparition. Soon, however, the first explosions rent the air, and I now perceived the round red balls under the planes.
It was a Jap!
I must say that I felt rather queer on beholding my huge enemy colleague floating so near us in the sky. A bright outlook for the future!
Kiao-Chow regarded the advent of the enemy airman as a most disagreeable surprise, for no one had expected that the Japs would be equipped with aircraft.
On the whole, they eventually produced eight aeroplanes, amongst them four gigantic seaplanes, for whose possession I heartily envied the Japs. How often in the ensuing weeks did I gaze longingly at them, as they circled round the town, and wish for one!
The Japs flew well and with extraordinary pluck. It is lucky, however, that their bomb-dropping was not on a par with it, otherwise it would have been a bad look out for us. The Japanese bombs were heavy, of recent construction, and most destructive.
The enemy seaplanes also had a tremendous advantage over us. They were able to take off at a great distance, without consideration of the wind, with as much space for turning out as they could wish for; and when they had ascended with the greatest security to the altitude of 3000 metres they swooped down upon us, and simply jeered at our shrapnels and machine-guns.
One of the chief aims of the enemy was to destroy my hangar. Soon matters became so unpleasant for my aerodrome that one fine day I decided that it was time to stop my enemy colleagues’ little game.
My real shed lay at the northern end of the ground; it made a splendid target, and the Japanese knew its location by heart. I now built unobtrusively a new shed on the opposite side, close to a mountain slope, covering it with clods of earth and grass, so that nothing of it could be noticed from above. We then proceeded with deep cunning and malice to the erection of a bogus aeroplane, with the help of planks, sailing canvas and tin. From above it looked exactly like my Taube. And after that, the moment an enemy aviator was in sight, we played a little comedy.
On some days the doors of my old shed were wide open, and my imitation Taube sprawled in front of it on the beautiful green grass. On others the shed was closed and nothing to be seen. Another day my sham machine sat in a different place, where it could be spotted at once. Now the enemy aviators arrived and dropped bombs and bombs in their endeavours to hit the innocent bird. Whilst this was going on we sat in the real aeroplane, well protected by our roof, holding our sides with laughter as we saw the bombs seeking their bogus victim.