Everything in the air that is beneath me, especially if it is a one seater . . . is lost, for it cannot shoot to the rear.

Fighter pilots rove in the area allotted to them in any way they like, and when they spot an enemy they attack and shoot them down.... Everything else is rubbish.

In the heat of the Russian summer a sleeping car is the most horrible instrument of martyrdom imaginable.

One can become enthusiastic over anything. For a time I was delighted with bomb throwing. It gave me a tremendous pleasure to bomb those fellows from above.

The quality of the box matters little. Success depends upon the man who sits in it.

As a little boy of eleven I entered the Cadet Corps. I was not particularly eager to become a Cadet, but my father wished it. So my wishes were not consulted.

Of course, with the increasing number of aeroplanes one gains increased opportunities for shooting down one's enemies, but at the same time, the possibility of being shot down one's self increases.