The fact that the pilot Manfred von Richthofen, like many extreme sports enthusiasts who modern world become racers, snowboarders and other skydivers, the instinct of self-preservation has been atrophied, there is no doubt. Richthofen was lucky (or unlucky - you decide for yourself after reading) to be born at the moment when his fearless sporty character could serve for the benefit of his homeland. So, Manfred was born on May 2, 1892 on the family estate of the noble Richthofen family in Silesia, near Breslau. The newborn was immediately granted the title of Freiherr, that is, baron. The history of the Richthofen family was not decorated with military exploits, but consisted mainly of agricultural everyday life, diluted with hunting. Manfred's father Albrecht was the first to have the idea of ​​devoting himself to military affairs. True, luck turned away from Richthofen Sr., without even bothering to turn to him: at the very beginning of the service, he caught a cold in his ear, selflessly pulling out cold water a soldier who could not swim. Partial deafness was regarded by the command as unsuitability. Then Albrecht Richthofen became interested in raising children. He regularly took Manfred to hunt or ride a new mare, and as a result, the boy quickly became an excellent rider and a marksman. And since there was nothing special to do on the family estate, Manfred did not get off his horse throughout his childhood and adolescence. Until my father finally took it off himself - to send it to the cadet corps.

In the corps, Manfred did not behave at all as befits a young representative of a noble noble family. Young Richthofen regularly skipped classes and didn’t give a damn about his teachers. But as far as it concerned physical training, football, gymnastics and, naturally, equestrian sports, he gave all his classmates a head start. The appearance of the young baron also left much to be desired and was more gangster than aristocratic. Stocky, with a duck nose, a constantly scratched face and often with broken limbs, Richthofen made a strong impression. And by “strong” we don’t mean “positive.”

Upon completion of the corps, Manfred was immediately enlisted in the prestigious 1st West Prussian Battalion of the Emperor's Uhlan Regiment Alexandra III. The service did not burden the baron, and even the message about the start of the war did not make him feel uncomfortable. On the eve of this news, Manfred and his friends in the regiment “ate oysters, drank champagne and played small games.” And if you think that after the telegram about the beginning of hostilities was opened, the young baron ran around the room, throwing oysters shouting “What a horror!”, You are mistaken. Richthofen, like no one else, was waiting for a war where his violent temper would not only not be condemned, but would also serve for the benefit of his homeland.

At first, Richthofen fought successfully on the Belgian and French fronts. But disappointment awaited him. It turned out that war is not one decisive, bloody duel that smells of gunpowder, heroism and death, but dull, prosaic everyday life, when you are thrown from place to place, without bothering to explain where and why.

It was during this period of endless senseless redeployments that Richthofen often began to throw his head up into the sky and watch with interest the planes soaring in the clouds. Manfred sent requests several times to transfer him to aviation, but the answer never came, which was doubly unpleasant, because it was during this period that for the second time in his life he was taken off his horse and put on duty on the telephone*. The Baron was outraged to the core. Such an unsuitable activity for his temperament! (Apparently, they had not yet come up with the idea of ​​calling someone and keeping silent on the phone.) In addition, Richthofen began to have household chores that were humiliating for a young fighter.

In May 1915, these responsibilities overwhelmed Manfred so much that he sent a telegram to the command: “I went to war not at all to requisition cheese and eggs, but for completely different purposes!” Someone at the top appreciated the young fighter’s sense of humor and ardent desire to serve his homeland. Within days, Richthofen was enlisted in the German Air Force. He was 23 years old then.

“By 1915, the German command abolished the detachments of cavalry border guards, one of which Richthofen was a member of. Of course! Such a border guard can be seen from a hundred meters away and jumps back and forth like a living target!”

On the occasion of his first confirmed victory, Manfred commissioned a silver cup from a Berlin jeweler, engraved with the date of the battle and the type of aircraft he shot down.

Manfred's impressions of his first flight as an observer were very contradictory. “My helmet fell off, my scarf unraveled, my vest was unbuttoned. Overall, I felt very uncomfortable." Nevertheless, upon arrival on the ground, Richthofen refused to get out of the airplane and waited right in it for a second takeoff. For several months the baron flew as an observer on “large” two-seater aircraft. Manfred failed his first airplane control exam and passed only the second time (but, as they say, without a bribe).

The baron spent several weeks on the Eastern Front, dropping bombs on the Russians. He characterized that short period with a phrase that for some reason is not the slogan of any Russian airline: “The Russians hate pilots and kill anyone who falls into their hands. This is the only danger for pilots in Russia, since there is almost no aviation there.”

A year after the start of his aviation career, Manfred was accepted into the squadron of the most famous German pilot at that time, Oswald Behlke, who was responsible for 18 downed aircraft - a record figure for 1916. In September 1916, Richthofen scored his first confirmed victory and immediately ordered a silver cup from a jeweler in Berlin, engraved with the date of the battle and the type of aircraft he shot down. By the end of 1916, the baron had 15 silver cups, that is, he had 15 victories. For his sixteenth victory, Richthofen was awarded the Order of Merit for the Fatherland. A day earlier, an order had arrived appointing Baron Manfred von Richthofen as commander of the 11th Fighter Squadron. The joy, he recalled, was “boundless.” “It was just a balm for my wounds” is a rather colorful remark, especially considering that Richthofen did not have a single wound at that time.

Having received an entire squadron at his disposal, Richthofen immediately got down to business. The point, as he understood it, was to immediately paint the Fokker bright red. At first, the plan seemed eccentric to others. The engineers hinted to the baron that his plane would be visible from afar and, therefore, more vulnerable. But this did not bother the fearless Richthofen. Moreover, he expected to be recognized. Recognize and fear.

The plan worked: legends began to circulate among enemy pilots about a red plane that appears out of nowhere and brings death. Some said that the devil was piloting the plane, others said that, oh, horror, a woman was at the helm! Such myths amused Richthofen, and he happily communicated with the defeated British in order to extract new information about himself. Once the baron shot down an English two-seater, but since he “humanly felt sorry for the enemy,” he did not let it crash to the ground like a stone, but gave the pilot the opportunity to land in a field. Having landed not far from the British, Richthofen entered into small talk with them - he asked if they had seen his plane before. The British readily replied that they not only saw him, but also nicknamed him “Little Red” so that he would not be afraid.

This code of honor was characteristic of the pilots of the First World War. Many of them, especially at the beginning of the war, did not consider themselves killers: by shooting down an enemy plane, they gave their opponent the opportunity to land and, therefore, survive. After all, the combat vehicle has been destroyed, you can slowly take down the numbers of the destroyed aircraft (a trophy that Richthofen never neglected) and transport the English pilot to captivity or hospital - depending on his condition. It was considered shameful to attend the funeral of a downed enemy pilot if he distinguished himself during air combat, put a wreath or at least a stone on his grave. The Red Baron respected this unwritten flight code and never tired of reminding the fighters of his squadron: “We are athletes, not butchers.”

Richthofen really trained his squadron like a real trainer. He developed a system of signs that he exchanged with his pilots in the air, thanks to which the actions of the 11th squadron were distinguished by incredible coherence, for which it was nicknamed “Richthofen’s Flying Circus”. And the battle tactics itself, developed by the baron, involved working as a team. Most often, the squadron pilots distracted enemy planes while Richthofen himself, usually flying in from the direction of the blinding sun, delivered the decisive blow.

It was considered shameful to attend the funeral of a downed enemy pilot and lay a stone on his grave. If, of course, he proved himself a worthy opponent in battle

The fame of the circus was brought to the 11th squadron not only by the coherence of actions in the air, but also by the bright coloring of the aircraft. The Flying Circus aviation park also included a plane with yellow nose, with green wings and a blue body, and a car that is black on top and pale blue on the bottom. Some squadron pilots painted their fuselages with polka dots or stripes. The coloring of each aircraft always included red, but only the squadron commander's aircraft was still entirely red. Such flamboyance of the squadron demonstrated not only the sense of humor of its commander, but also served quite well. specific goals: thanks to the bright colors in the turmoil of an air battle, it was easier for the squadron pilots to recognize each other’s planes and not accidentally shoot down a comrade.

The Red Baron banned its pilots from patrol flights. “They relax,” he replied to telegrams from the surprised command. Instead, the squadron members, fully dressed and bundled up for the flight above the clouds, sat with binoculars on folding chairs next to their vehicles, ready to take off. As soon as an enemy plane loomed on the horizon, the pilots took to the air. Sometimes alone, sometimes in twos, threes or as a whole team. Moreover, such “gatherings” often took place within the reach of enemy artillery. But Richthofen was not afraid. It seemed impossible to scare him.

In the memoirs of the pilot Ernst Udet, who was later named second in the number of victories after his commander, the Red Baron appears as a demanding but fair man. Richthofen could in every possible way support the one who lived up to his hopes, and the one who was not able to do this, “expelled him without batting an eye.” Perhaps that is why in Richthofen’s squadron every pilot was national hero. Moreover, Manfred did not tolerate indifference. For him, flying was a necessary part of life, and he demanded the same attitude from his subordinates. And anyone who did not show enthusiasm in the sky “had to leave the group on the same day.”

Richthofen introduced changes to the life of his team. Typically, flying units set up a camp 30–40 kilometers from the front line and built themselves almost full-fledged houses and barns. Therefore, when they were ordered to move and move, it took a day or two. And the “Flying Circus” could assemble in a couple of hours, since Manfred came up with special mobile tents made of corrugated iron for his squadron. Actually, that’s why another nickname of the 11th squadron sounded like “Richthofen’s Traveling Circus”. In addition, he never stopped more than twenty kilometers from the front line and flew in any weather. The baron's pilots and he himself took to the air five times a day, while the pilots of other units only had enough for a maximum of three times.

Not a single area of ​​the life of his squadron escaped Manfred’s attention, including such an important one as food. According to the memoirs of the same Udet, the commander used his own glory for the benefit of his team. For example, he sent an adjutant to the rear to replenish supplies, and first supplied him with his own photographs with the caption “In memory of my respected comrade in arms...” (then the required name was added). These photographs were extremely valuable among suppliers, thanks to which “Richthofen’s group never ran out of supplies of sausages and ham”*.

“The military life of World War I pilots would be the envy of a first-class passenger on modern Qatar Airways.” The list of minimum needs for pilots included a starchy white tablecloth for meals, crystal glasses for juice and wine, and fine china.”

Ace of aces

It was a rare German soldier who did not have at least one postcard of the Red Baron. Particularly popular was the one where the baron is depicted with a cross for bravery, which Kaiser Wilhelm II personally awarded him. It seemed that Richthofen was the only hero of this protracted positional war, the full meaninglessness of which became indecently obvious in 1917.

But as for relationships with women, little is known about this area of ​​the baron’s life. Although, it would seem, Gott himself ordered such a great pilot to use his fame and be known as a womanizer. But, apparently, Richthofen spent too little time on the ground, since in his entire short life he was only seen once in a relationship with a woman**, which developed under deplorable circumstances for the pilot.

“But he was caught having a relationship with dogs! The Red Baron had a hound named Moritz, to whom he devoted an entire chapter of his memoirs and which he called “the most wonderful creature of all God’s creatures.” Blind!”

Richthofen exchanged his own photographs for provisions, thanks to which the supply of sausages and ham in his squadron never ran out

In July 1917, the Red Baron was seriously wounded during a battle with a two-seater English plane. One of the bullets grazed his head, but despite the serious wound, he managed to land his triplane in neutral territory. Manfred, who had already lost consciousness, was taken out of the crashed plane by German orderlies who arrived in time. It took several operations to remove all the bone fragments from the pilot's head. At first, doctors were afraid that Richthofen, who had partially lost his sight, would never restore it. Among the orderlies caring for the hero was a half-German, half-Belgian nurse, Kate Otersdorf. Very soon she and the baron became practically inseparable. The only photograph has survived in which Richthofen and Otersdorf are together, but it is known that the nurse regularly came to the baron “for dressings” until his last flight.

During his forced downtime on earth, Richthofen dictated his memoirs, which we never tire of quoting. The idea of ​​writing memoirs came not to the baron himself, but to those who sat in the press and information (that is, propaganda) department of the German Air Force. It was assumed that the heroic memoirs of the living legend of German aviation would raise the morale of soldiers tired of the protracted military operations. Therefore, paragraphs of patriotic rant were squeezed into the original text dictated by the baron, replete with sentences like “The offensive spirit is very strong in us Germans” or “A man defending his country should never utter the words “I am afraid” or “I am just a soldier fulfilling his duty." When Manfred was given the first revised version of his memoirs, he spoke unflatteringly of it, saying that the text “reeks of misplaced arrogance.”

But, unlike those who write articles for MAXIM magazine, the Red Baron had no time to deal with the editor. He longed to take to the air again and even refused leave and quiet ground service. Manfred soon resumed flying.

Some researchers consider the cause of Richthofen’s fatal mistake to be “military neurosis,” in which maneuvers are thought out to the smallest detail, and simple rules are forgotten

On the evening of April 20, at the Flying Circus they had fun and raised glasses of champagne, exchanged for the next batch of postcards with a photo of the squadron commander, Baron Manfred von Richthofen, who won his eightieth victory that day. According to the memoirs of Ernst Udet, Richthofen that evening reasoned out loud that he would quit flying, but only after his hundredth victory - for good measure. The celebration did not last long: the squadron needed to rest before the flights. The Red Baron himself especially needed rest, since he had been suffering from frequent headaches since his injury.

The next morning, April 21, 1918, the aircraft of the 11th Squadron, standing peacefully near the camp, were shrouded in a dense layer of fog. By 10.30 am, the fog began to clear, and a signal was immediately received: British planes appeared over the front line for the purpose of aerial photography and adjusting artillery fire. Richthofen ordered his pilots to get into their cars. Having risen into the air, the planes flew towards the front line, where the British opponents were already circling.

Almost immediately, Richthofen began pursuing a biplane flown by a young Canadian pilot, Wilfrid May. This was one of the Canadian's first flights, and perhaps he did not even understand who he had the honor of escaping from. But Captain Roy Brown, also a Canadian, and in the past also May’s school friend, understood. Brown rushed to the defense of an inexperienced friend, whom even before taking off he recommended not to engage in battle, but to fly on the sidelines, and began to pursue the red Fokker triplane.

And then Richthofen made a grave mistake, which he himself tried to protect novice pilots from: he descended so that he came within range of fire from the ground. It is still unknown how the most experienced pilot, the ace of aces, could screw up like that. Some military researchers believe that Richthofen's injury was to blame, the consequences of which affected his concentration. Others see the reason in “military neurosis,” which manifests itself in the fact that the most complex maneuvers are thought out to the smallest detail, and the elementary rules are forgotten.

To kill Manfred von Richthofen, one bullet was enough, which damaged the lungs and touched the heart. The debate about who exactly inflicted the fatal wound continues until today. Latest version This is: The Red Baron was shot from the ground with an anti-aircraft machine gun by Australian Sergeant Cedric Popkin of the 24th Machine Gun Company.

The Red Baron did not die immediately - he managed to land the plane. The soldiers who were watching the battle immediately rushed towards him. One of them claimed that the baron was still alive and even managed to say the last word: “Kaputt.” The legendary red triplane was sawed up into souvenirs by Australian soldiers within two hours.

The funeral of Manfred von Richthofen - the Red Baron - took place the next day, April 22, in the cemetery of the French village of Bertanley. They were distinguished by all the possible pomp that can only be had when you bury one of your most sworn enemies. The pallbearers were six Allied airmen, all with the rank of captain, while the rest of the units present at the funeral saluted the dead hero. During the service, wreaths were received from neighboring garrisons, tied with a ribbon with the inscription “To our great enemy.” The Red Baron did not live ten days before his 26th birthday.

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Michael was born on January 3, 1969 in a city in Germany. From a young age, it became clear that the boy had an irresistible craving for competitions and cars. Already at the age of four, the daring Shumi was rushing around the yard on a map made by his father from an ordinary lawn mower. A year later, seeing his son’s passion, he designed for Michael a real kart with a motorcycle engine. Schumacher won his first cup on it. He became the smallest participant in the competition among juniors, but even then few would have thought that the boy would grow into a serious racer - the future Iron Prince.

Michael attributed his passion for racing to the enthusiasm of his father, who encouraged and helped him in every possible way in competitions. Otherwise, the boy’s everyday life was no different from the rhythm of life of his friends and classmates. He was fond of judo, loved to play football with friends, and after school he was going to study to become a mechanic; it seemed that his future path had already been mapped out and there was no place for unexpected turns. But at the age of 11, the incredibly successful young champion was faced with a choice - to go to judo competitions or go to karting races. Michael chose judo and ended up only third. It was then that he realized that he had chosen the wrong road.

Michael's family was very poor, so his parents really didn't have enough money to pay for such an expensive activity, but the world is not without good people. Jurgen Dilk, a friend of their family, helped young Schumacher. It was he who bought the guy a brand new shiny kart. This man continued to actively help Michael.

And as often happens, life gave the talented driver a chance: by chance, Schumacher got into Formula 1. Thus began the legendary rise of the world-famous racer’s career. At the very beginning, he was even assigned as co-pilot with the famous three-time world champion Nelson Piquet. But this did not affect Michael in any way, because for him there were no authorities or idols, but there was an irresistible desire to become the best and win regardless of anything. He was confident in himself and his abilities, and that means a lot. Plus the desire to be first - and now Schumacher is fifth, and the legendary Pique is far behind.

In 1996, after signing a contract with Ferrari, he became the team's leading driver. In addition, the aggressive and pedantic racer influenced her good influence, as a result, team members became neater and more detail-oriented.

1999 was a very difficult year for Schumacher - he had a terrible accident, literally flying into a wall of tires at high speed. As a result, the car crashed badly, and the driver himself was significantly injured. But after two operations, Michael, not used to giving up so easily, returned to big sport and training continued. Schumacher became world champion seven times, won a huge number of titles and medals, and became the idol and dream of many boys.

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Rittmeister (captain) Manfred von Richthofen - the famous Red Baron, the best ace and, without a doubt, the most famous pilot of the First World War. From the summer of 1917 he commanded the 1st Fighter Squadron (JG I), better known as the "Richthofen Circus", and died on a combat mission on April 21, 1918. Who shot down the Red Baron?

On April 21 at 10:30 am, the Fokker triplanes of the Jasta 11 fighter squadron took off from the Kapi airfield - a total of 10 aircraft in two flights, one of which was piloted by Richthofen himself. Over the Somme they met Albatrosses from Jasta 5 (the number is unknown, but hardly more than a dozen vehicles), and from the other side of the front three five Camels from 209 Sqn RAF approached the same place. In addition, there were several more German scouts and a pair of R.E.8s from 3 Sqn AFC in the area.

All the aircraft listed above took part in a long, but not particularly productive battle for both sides. After half an hour of maneuvering and shooting, the opponents dispersed and returned to their bases. Time passed, all the Fokkers landed one after another, but the red plane never returned to the airfield.

After debriefing and interviews with forward artillery observers, it was determined that the captain had chased one or two Camels, managed to shoot down one of them, but then made an emergency landing, presumably due to engine failure or damage from ground fire. The Germans decided that Richthofen had been captured, and were so sure of this that when news of the Allied funeral for the pilot reached them two days later, they assumed that the baron was simply shot after landing, avenging the deaths of many British pilots. However, this version was soon forgotten, and the death of the JG I commander from anti-aircraft (machine gun) fire began to be considered the most likely.

The Allies were also interested in knowing who shot down German ace. They even conducted a small investigation, albeit without unnecessary fanaticism (for example, they did not perform an autopsy of the body, limiting themselves to a superficial examination). Based on its results, the commander of Flight “A” of the 209th Squadron, Captain Arthur Roy Brown, was declared the winner, for whom this success was the tenth and last. Some members of the commission had a "dissenting opinion", but it was ignored, not least for political reasons: the German ace should be shot down by a British fighter pilot, and not by an unknown machine gunner from the ground.

Captain Brown in front of his Camel, serial No. B7270, in which he took part in the battle on April 21

Over the past decades, historians have collected all possible information about the events of that day. The Camels of 209 Squadron entered the battle at 10:45 (German time an hour later). One of the new recruits, 2nd Lt. Wilfred May, disobeyed orders to “stay out of the fray” and went on the attack. He fired first at one Fokker, then at the other, after which, with his weapon failing, he found himself in the center of the battle. Remembering another instruction: “go west in case of danger,” May did so, but caught the eye of Richthofen.

Fokker Dr.I with serial number Dr425/17, in which Richthofen took his last flight

When lines of bursts passed near the Camel, the Briton turned around and was horrified to see a red triplane behind him. Wilfred later recalled that he was saved only thanks to his own inability to fly: he worked the rudders randomly, and the maneuvers of the machine were unpredictable both for himself and for the enemy. During the battle, both aircraft fled to the northwest at low altitude. Captain Brown came to the wingman's aid. Having put the plane into a dive, he quickly caught up with the enemy, but due to too high speed, to avoid a collision, was forced to go up after a short burst. After this, Richthofen pursued May for at least one and a half kilometers (40 seconds), continuing to fire. Then the Fokker began a turn to climb, but, having lost speed, fell onto its wing and crashed into the ground near the Picardy village of Vaux-sur-Somme.

In the interval between Brown's attack and the fall of the red triplane, three anti-aircraft machine guns fired at it. First, the Vickers of Sergeant Cedric Popkin from the 24th Australian machine gun company fired at it, then the airplane fell into the effective fire zone of two Lewises covering the 53rd battery of the 14th Australian field artillery regiment (the machine gunners were privates Robert Buie and William Evans). Security was immediately posted at the crash site of the German plane, but as soon as the name of the deceased pilot became known, the car was literally torn to pieces by souvenir hunters. The ace's body was examined at least three times, and all the doctors agreed that Richthofen was hit by a single bullet, fired from the back and side and passing right through.

The wreckage of Richthofen's Fokker at the airfield of the 3rd Squadron of the Australian Air Corps in Bertangle (http://www.awm.gov.au)

Based on the location of the inlet and outlet holes, it was possible to approximately determine the angle of impact of the bullet: 37° from behind and 12° from below (a straight line passing from right to left in the horizontal plane was taken as the starting point). Depending on whether the pilot was sitting upright or looking back, pressed against the back of the seat or leaning forward, the shot could be fired in a sector from 11° forward to 58° back and from 12° down to the horizon. It turned out that the fatal bullet could have arrived both from the ground and from the air. True, if the bullet ricocheted off a bone, then all these calculations become meaningless.

“Camel” by Arthur Brown and “Fokker” by Manfred von Richthofen (drawing by Mikhail Bykov)

In Canada, a museum houses a pilot's seat believed to have been taken from Richthofen's plane. There are no holes on it, except for mounting ones. If it really is from a red triplane, then we can draw a conclusion not in favor of Brown: he shot after him, which means there must be a hole in the back of the seat. Currently, most historians are inclined to believe that the most successful fighter pilot of the First World War was shot down by fire from the ground.

On the evening of April 22, Manfred von Richthofen was buried with full military honors in the cemetery of the town of Bertangle, 7 km north of Amiens. The British press published an obituary:

“Manfred von Richthofen is dead. He was a brave man, an aristocrat and a real fighter. May he rest in peace."

Why the public forgot about the great racer Michael Schumacher two years later, what the children of the seven-time world champion are doing, and what made the wife of the “Red Baron” smile for the first time after the tragedy, discusses Maxim Ognenny, deputy editor-in-chief of R-Sport.

Just over two years ago, a fatal incident on ski resort Meribel in the French Alps, the most famous Formula 1 racing driver of our time, seven-time world champion, German Michael Schumacher, said goodbye to his multimillion-dollar army of fans in absentia, falling into a coma and ending up in for a long time confined to a hospital bed.

The athlete's devoted fans, and simply people who are not indifferent to sports, watched the news with bated breath in the first days and months after the incident to hear encouraging data about Michael's condition. All the world's largest funds mass media dedicated their materials to the great racer, praying for Schumacher’s health, and the public on the World Wide Web in their comments expressed the maximum noble empathy for the family and friends of the German athlete.

After the first year of treatment, it became clear that in the coming months, and possibly years, the “Red Baron” would not appear in public.

Media reports began to appear less frequently. News about the fundamental reluctance of the German’s wife Corinna to provide any information about the racer’s health alternated with the opinions of yellow press sources about the timing of recovery. Reporters learned “sensational” facts from the life of the great athlete’s family: the wife is selling Schumacher’s personal plane, the racer’s son is injured in one of the races, unknown persons are stealing a computer personal doctor Michael.

Day by day, the number of people willing to speak out on the topic of Schumacher’s health or speculate on how the people around him and the racer’s relatives should behave was rapidly decreasing. Large television channels and publications, realizing that the “most delicious foam” in the form of the number of views and reader responses had already been collected, practically forgot about the famous athlete.

Of course, such restraint can be perceived as a tribute to the family of the great racer. Even at the very beginning of the difficult path of struggle for the racer’s life, many wrote about the reluctance of Michael’s son Mick to appear at social events, and Schumacher’s wife was accused of being too closed. And, of course, you can nod to all these considerations and agree that it is better to leave the unhappy family alone. But would such behavior be correct?

Year after year, watching life-and-death battles during dangerous turns on race tracks around the world, holding your breath moments before the finish of the Great Schumacher, not holding back tears during the driver’s farewell to the big sport, all this time no one in our side of the screen, I didn’t even think about the cost of this struggle for an ordinary German boy who first got behind the wheel at the age of 4.

And over the next 43 years, the boy, gradually growing up and becoming a real man, receiving his first injuries and winning his first awards, simply devoted himself to the sport and his fans. He gave his health, strength, emotions to people, most of whom he does not know. He was a source of delight for people most of whom would never see. He deliberately went for it, without thinking about himself.

And now, when “The Red Baron” can no longer bring the same emotions as before, we, putting on the masks of the righteous, turn away from the man whose whole life goal was only to prolong our pleasure. From speed, struggle, triumph and victories.

This is not a laudatory ode to the great German racing driver, whose fate inexplicably preserved the athlete’s health throughout numerous races and races, and killed this health during a banal ski trip. No. These are reflections on our human respect to the grief of your neighbor. The problem of compassion. This is what prevents us from truly supporting and believing in speedy recovery father of two Michael Schumacher.

Now Schumacher does not think about his fans, he is not upset because large number previously loyal fans forgot about him. We basically don’t know and won’t find out what the seven-time world champion is thinking about now. But it's safe to say that he would have been delighted to know that his son Mick had climbed to the top step of the podium in his third race in the Formula 4 Championship.

And we would undoubtedly see the famous smile on Michael’s face if we told that Schumacher’s daughter Gina-Maria last August took part in the European Equestrian Championship, which took place in the racer’s homeland, Germany. Whatever you say, it was at these competitions that the wife of the “Red Baron” was seen laughing. Perhaps in her children she sees her husband, a real fighter for life and simply a brave man - Michael Schumacher.

The film is a crumpled mishmash of fragments of life and fantasies on the topic We are dragged through a life that is far from being the longest Manfred Albrecht Freiherr von Richthofen, the best pilot of the First World War, Red Baron, whose name has long ago become a household name and remains on our lips to this day but what are they showing us? The film is damn reminiscent in places Lafayette Squadron" So much so that it makes me sick to my stomach This does not mean that I have a bad opinion of creation Tony Bill no, Squadron is a good film for everyone, but worthy, however, “ Red Baron"also a very worthy movie, if you forget that we are talking about the legendary pilot!

Seriously, a ton of war dramas have been filmed and I can’t imagine why they filmed another story about common man and how the war changes it No, it is clear that it would be impossible to bypass this aspect, but why focus so much on it while ignoring the main component - the unique skills of the pilot. Tell me, would it be interesting to watch a film about, say, a great boxer, where hardly any attention would be paid directly to boxing? 1/10 screen time? Or, let's say about some great racer where there would be no racing?

But it is precisely the theme of high-class flights that is not covered in the film. Seriously speaking, I counted three scenes, the most intense of which was at the beginning, weaker in the middle and dull in the finale, when two ace brothers play a staring contest against the backdrop of smoky streaks in the sky to music designed to create suspense. Well, then the finale funeral service, where everyone is in harmony ( including the baron himself ) see off someone who has not yet been shot down Richthofen on the last journey to mournful music… Horror.

But, okay, let’s say I was expecting one thing, and the director wanted to show something else. In the end, these are my problems, so let's talk about what worried me Nikolai Müllerschön.

The theme of military drama and tragic life stories against the backdrop of global confrontations is not new. Offhand, I can hardly remember at least a dozen films about war, where the authors would not touch on this, but would show exactly the war. Usually the focus point is still on one hero and his evolution in extremely extreme conditions.

What does “The Red Baron” depict to us?

Firstly , certainly not a hackneyed topic of the First World War and a separate caste of pilots that was just emerging at that time. The topic is interesting and prolific. But the implementation, to put it mildly, was not pleasing ( more on that later).

Secondly , the story of the growing up of a very young baron, who is maturing just before our eyes.

Thirdly , a rather mediocre love story.

Now let's get back to implementation.

I don’t know about anyone, but personally I was very annoyed by the authors’ jumping around in dates and some kind of fitfully incomprehensible fragmentation of the narration Honestly, I have seen many examples when, in 100 minutes, authors managed to clearly tell stories that were much longer in time and they didn’t have to arrange leapfrogs on dates, between which there is simply no difference.

By God, I absolutely do not understand why the breakdown is the way it is done in the film. In these, relatively speaking, chapters there is no serious meaning and no really significant events. It seems that the director simply took a book with the Baron’s biography and, after flipping through it, randomly selected several pieces from which he then put together a narrative.

From time to time it becomes boring to watch what is happening and is saved only by the adequate acting and generally pleasant implementation of the technical part. Yes, there is something to praise this film for the actors did an excellent job with their roles, although the pilots were not up to par in terms of legendary superstition, but otherwise it’s quite good The large-scale part does not lag behind, although the computer graphics are still distinguishable, but these are trifles.

In these rushing about the war, they could not preserve and love line. It’s absolutely not clear why Kate ( Lena Headey) time after time finds himself in close proximity to Manfred ( Matthias Schweighöfer) and how at least some feeling appears between them. The scene when the downed Baron wakes up in the hospital and finds at his bed exactly the nurse he would like to see there By the way, if we really look into it, I still don’t understand where Kate worked She’s poking around with the wounded on the line looks even more contrived. front, then works in a front-line tent hospital, then suddenly finds himself in a normal military hospital… Of course, I understand that war is not conducive to settling down, but it’s still somehow strange.

Again, according to Wikipedia information, then Red Baron I haven’t flown on a single flight without receiving a kiss from my beloved for good luck ( this is about the question of superstition ), but for some reason this moment was not even touched upon in the film.

Is this movie worth watching? If you like dramas and even, in a certain sense, tragedies, films about war, historical films, it’s definitely worth it, if only because the theme and time frame are not hackneyed, but it’s clearly not worth waiting for some kind of revelation.