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Red Baron II
Historical Overview
By: Dark Vortex (Quan Jin)
darkvortex0012000@yahoo.com
Version 1.0
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This guide may be found on the following sites:

[http://www.gamefaqs.com]--------------------------------------------[GameFAQs]
[http://www.gamespot.com]--------------------------------------------[GameSpot]
[http://faqs.ign.com]------------------------------------------------[IGN FAQs]
[http://www.neoseeker.com]------------------------------------------[Neoseeker]
[http://www.dlh.net]--------------------------------------[Dirty Little Helper]
[http://www.cheats.de]----------------------------------------------[Cheats.de]
[http://www.supercheats.com]--------------------------------------[SuperCheats]

This guide is copyright 2003-2004(c)Quan Jin

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----[ Table of Contents ]------------------------------------------------------
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1. Introduction...............................................[1000]
2. Overview...................................................[2000]
3. Version History............................................[3000]
4. Legal Disclaimers..........................................[4000]
5. Credits and Closing........................................[5000]

To find a section quickly, press Ctrl-F and type in either the name
of the section along with its content number (ie. 1., 2., 3., etc.)
OR you can use the codes on the far right. Simply type in the
brackets with the code number to get a jump.

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----[ 1. Introduction ]------------------------------------------------ [1000]
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This is a Historical Overview. This means I'm basically giving you a history
lesson. I might've included this in my Strategy Guide for Red Baron II but I
thought it would take up too much room. After all, it's a doozy to read.

You may not find this guide that interesting. However, this guide is for those
looking for references that they can't find in the game itself.

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----[ 2. Overview ]---------------------------------------------------- [2000]
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This historical overview was taken directly from the PDF file manual. This is
for those particular players who didn't get the PDF file manual included with
their game.

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A. April 21, 1918 : Amiens Front
================================

When the pilots of JG-1 crawled out of their bunks in the early morning hours
of April 21, 1918, they found their aerodrome at Cappy shrouded in thick, gray
fog. The blanket of mist clung to the ground, making any flying impossible.
Delighted by the break, the pilots gather near their planes to await the events
of the day.

They needed the break. Since March 21st, the men had been in action nearly
every day, fighting with a desperation born from the knowledge that this last,
great German offensive would determine the course of the war. They knew that
their nation had gambled everything -- resources, men, equipment, aircraft, and
money -- on this final effort. At first, it had succeeded. Below the wings of
JG-1s Fokkers and Albatros fighters, the infantry had poured through a broken
British line. German reinforcements flooded to the breakthroughs, pushing the
Tommies back nearly 40 miles. In a war that measured success in yards, 40 miles
seemed a ringing victory. But as JG-1 discovered, it proved to be a hollow
success. Now, a month later, the British had turned to fight, stopping the
advance cold before any real strategic success could be achieved.

All that was left to do was fight on with sheer momentum. Already, gossip
around the mess tables at night told stories of friendly infantry units
breaking and routing; of fighter squadrons running out of gas, rubber, and
oil; of discontent in the ranks. In some cases, the red specter of Socialism
seemed to play a part, boding ill for the future in light of Russia's
Revolution the previous fall. Clearly, four years of stagnant, bloody, trench
warfare had just plain worn out the German army, and now its men were being
asked to do too much.

That was also true of the Air Service, and of JG-1 in particular. For the last
month, they'd been flying four or five times a day. The men were exhausted,
their lives measured in mere days as the inferno over the trenches claimed
pilot after pilot.

For the ground crew, times were nearly as trying. They worked through the days
and nights in a never ending battle to keep the planes airborne. With stocks
of spare parts low, and replacement aircraft a wishful dream, the geschwader's
fighting strength slowly drained away. Just to keep their remaining planes in
fighting shape, parties of mechanics would scour the front for wrecks, from
which they cannibalized all the rubber parts and brass fittings they could
find.

Two things kept these men going: their love of Germany and their love for their
leader, the legendary Manfred von Richthofen.

He was the type of man others instinctively followed. He lead by example, by
devotion to duty, and by sheer force of will. After four years of combat --
first with the cavalry on the Eastern Front, then as a fighter pilot in the
West -- Rochthofen was burned out. Nevertheless, he carried out his duty with
grim determination that inspired all around him. His insistence to stay at the
front endeared him to his men almost as much as it frustrated and worried the
German high command. Richthofen, General Hindenburg once remarked, was worth
at least one full division. He was the soul of the fighter force, the
inspiration to all in the Air Service after three years of battling the
British of Germany's best fighters. Alive, he was a great propaganda asset, a
symbolism of everything the German fighting men stood for in this long and
dreary war. To the core, he was a combat pilot, a hunter of the sky. And that
is why he never let up.

Not even after he nearly died did he give much thought to taking some desk
job far from the front, though his superiors urged him to do just that. Nearly
a year before, in July, 1917, he had been in a wild dogfight with Naval Ten
Squadron and some FE2s from a local RFC unit. During the fight, one of the Fee
gunners had shot Richthofen in the head. Nearly out of his mind with pain, and
practically blinded by blood gushing over his eyes, Germany's ace of aces
spiraled down to the trenches below and crash-landed within friendly lines.
Some soldiers pulled him from the wreckage and carried him to a field hospital,
where his wounds were dressed. After a spell at home where he was sent to
recover, he returned to action once again that fall.

Despite his leave, he never really recovered from his wound. Now, months later,
he looked gaunt and hollow. He suffered from terrible headaches that at times
threatened to confine him to bed. Yet, he doggedly pressed on, shooting down
an ever increasing number of allied aircraft, until by April 21, his total
stood at 80 kills.

As the sun rose over Cappy that spring morning, Richthofen appeared at the
flight line to check on his pilots. He was in fine spirits, by all accounts,
since the day before he had claimed his 80th victim. As he toured the scene,
he tripped over a stretcher laid out on the ground. When he looked back to see
what he'd fallen over, he saw Leutnant Wenzl, a young tiger who had just
transferred into geschwader from Jasta 31 at the end of March. Playfully, the
Rittmeister tipped over the stretcher, spilling Wenzl into the mud.

Laughing at their leader's prank, the other pilots plotted revenge. Later that
morning, they kidnapped the Rittmeister's dog, Moritz, and tied a wheel chock
to his tail. Moritz had already seen much of the war, and, in fact, was missing
part of an ear. Some months before, the Great Dane was chasing Richthofen's
Fokker Triplane as it began its takeoff roll. The dog got too close and
collided with the propeller blades, which chopped off a good portion of his
ear.

So it was on the morning of April 21st, Moritz, the half-eared dog came
whining to his master, a wheel chock dragging at his hind legs. The Rittmeister
took the gag in stride, laughing at the sight as he knelt down to free Moritz
from the chock.

Little did anyone know that this would be the last time the Rittmeister's
laughter would ring in their ear.

With late morning came a break in the weather. A strong wind scattered the fog,
and as blue skies appeared over Cappy, the mood at the aerodrome became serious
and businesslike. They'd be going into battle soon, and the men knew the odds,
as usual, would be heavily stacked against them.

The call came shortly after 10:30. A German observation point reported enemy
aircraft heading for JG-1's patrol area. The news sent the pilots scurrying for
their planes. In minutes, two ketten -- flights -- were airborne. Richthofen
led them off in his blood-red Fokker Dr. I.

The men left behind at Cappy anxiously awaited the return of the geschwader's
aircraft, going about their duty as they strained to hear the warm sound of
engines approaching the airfield.

Finally, in the early afternoon, they straggled in. The ground crew watched
the Fokkers swing around the aerodrome, their quirky Oberusel engines coughing
and burping as the pilots hit their "blip button" to slow their planes down
to landing speed.

But one aircraft was missing. The blood-red that belonged to the Rittmeister
was nowhere to be seen.

Through the afternoon they waited for news, despair threatening to overcome
this once happy band of German's elite aviators. As the sun went down that
afternoon, dread filled their hearts. He had fallen behind British lines, and
now all they could do was hope he had been taken prisoner.

When word did come of their leader's fate, it was not what they had all feared.
Their Rittmeister, the great Manfred von Richthofen, was dead.

British guns destroyed the heart and soul of the German fighter force that
April day, and with it, so died Germany's last hopes of winning the air
war.

And yet, something else happened that day, something that none of those present
at Cappy Aerodrome could ever have imagined. With the death of Manfred von
Richthofen, a legend was born -- one that would endure long after they were but
dust in a soldier's grave -- the legend of the Red Baron.

===============================
B. Chapter 1 : Europe In Flames
===============================

One wrong turn changed the course of history. On June 28, 1914, Austrian
Archduke Franz Ferdinand in the Bosnian city of Sarajevo intent on attending
army maneuvers in that recently annexed province of the Austro-Hungarian
Empire. The results of that visit set in motion a chain of events that lead
to the bloodiest war in world history. Long after the players that day were
dead and buried, the effects of their actions resounded for decades, affecting
the course of both Europe and the United States for generations to come.

It began at the train station in Sarajevo, where the Archduke, his wife, and
his entourage climbed into several open-topped touring carts to begin the short
drive to City Hall, where they would meet Sarajevo's mayor.

Unknown to them, assassins lurked along their planned routes. As the Archduke's
car trundled down the street, one of the killers jumped forward to throw a
bomb. By chance, the bomb missed, bouncing off the car then landing in the
street. It exploded next to the car directly behind the Archduke's, wounding
several of his good friends and staff members. The injured men were rushed to
the hospital while Ferdinand, furious at what had just happened, continued to
City Hall.

Once he arrived there, he greeted the Mayor icily. "So, you welcome your guests
here with bombs?" he asked angrily. The Mayor brushed aside the remark and
welcomed his Austrian dignitary to his city, assuring the Archduke that the
would-be assassin had been caught. The meeting ended with Ferdinand announcing
he wished to visit his two wounded officers in the hospital. This required a
change in plans, which almost, but not quite, saved the Austrian's life.

That day, a number of pro-Serbian assassins had staked out the Archduke's route
throughout the city. If the first assassin failed, there were backups to
him -- and backups to those backups. The Austrian's route through the city
had been well known, and it was dotted with gun wielding, bomb toting fanatics.
Trained by the Serbian terrorist organization known as the Black Hand, their
goal was to secure Bosnian independence from Austria.

Now, though, circumstances foiled their plot. The Archduke would not be
traveling on his pre-selected route to the army maneuvers. Instead, he insisted
on going to the hospital. He should've missed all the other assassins waiting
for him.

Enter Franz Urban, the Archduke's person chauffeur. Urban had never driven in
Sarajevo before and did not know exactly how to get to the hospital. He tried
his best, though, working through the maze of narrow streets, trying to follow
his maps and instructions. In the end, he got lost.

Somewhere along the way, he made a right turn into a single-lane alley that
was so narrow he could not turn the car around. He went only a few dozen yards
down the alley before he realized his mistake. He slowed the car down, getting
ready to turn it around. Then he saw he would have to back up to the main
street he had left. He touched the brakes just as a shabbily dressed young man
crossed in front of the car a dozen or so feet ahead. Franz watched the man --
a boy really -- look up and see the car.