Strange Birds Over Africa - English Translation

Ernst Udet

_______________


Strange Birds over Africa

With 119 images
taken by members of the expedition

and one chart







Velhagen and Klasing, Bielefeld and Leipzig
1932

Copyright 1931 by Velhagen & Klasing, Bielefeld and Leipzig
Original printing in Bielefeld by Velhagen & Klasing






English Translation by Vera Filhaut
Editor, Lana Morgan
2019

P“ ermission Udet, three planes, Kenia, Uganda, Tanganyika and Sudan granted. Director of

civil aviation London.” That was the contents of the cable received from the British Air
Marshall for civil aviation, Sir Safton Branders, who, in a most helpful way had put in a word
for us with the British Colonial office. When he finally received the permission after
overcoming many obstacles on the way, he, himself wired the permission across to us. Who
would have thought that this exemplary and brave Air Marshall of the English Civil Aviation
authority would die only hours later in the horrendous catastrophe of the English airship
R101 and that his life should end so tragically.

We now had the confirmation we needed; our six weeks of preparations for the big leap to
Africa had not been in vain. We, that is: Edy v. Gontard (Paul Curt von Gontard), Willi Zietz
and myself, who have joined force to fly to Africa and to film, and also to catch that bit of
the sun, that is currently lacking here up north.

We want to capture Africa in all its beauty and its natural appeal and to project the
differences between culture and modern technology. In order to be able to show our
impressions in one, we decided to give our manuscript a background story, and thus chose
the title “Strange Birds over Africa” as befitting for what we wanted to achieve.

Von Gontard and Willi Zietz coordinated the expedition and film production. I was
responsible for anything flight-related and its success. Also, on board are Junghans, the
director, and the two cameramen Schneeberger and Bohne. The former also introduced the
multi-genius Buchholz into our team. To fly the second machine, a second pilot, v. Suchocky
was chosen, and my long-term board mechanic Baier was responsible for the service of the
planes. Female members of the expedition were Mrs. von Gontard, Mrs. Felsing and the
actress Miss Yvette Rodin.

For our purposes, only planes with a slow-start and landing speed were suitable, thus, I
chose the English “Moth” with a Genet engine, 85 bhp, and a “Klemm, with a Siemens
engine of 80 bhp, our reserve machine was an airplane of the Bavarian Aviation Works, Type
M23 with Argus engine. The aluminium paint for better preservation of the wood, the

4 An ideal African airport



over dimensional running wheels, installation of oil cooling, and much more ensured that
the planes were suitable for Africa in a short period of time. A sound recording device, two
Debris cameras with movable tripods, four handheld cameras, lighting equipment and
40.000 meter of film are all part of the equipment for this expedition.

To fulfil my photographic desires, I also took 3 Leica, which I have attached to the side and
at the tail of my airplane. Leica cameras have a good reputation for their excellent optics
and their easy use and are in my opinion ideal for use in hunting and expeditions.

Well-equipped, we arrived in Mombasa in November 1930, where Nordhaus, who had
travelled in advance and had taken on the preparations of the camp on Lake Manjara,
picked us up.

We travelled by car via Doi to Arusha, which was the center point of our expedition and only
90 miles away from Lake Manjara, where on the north shore we found a splendidly
equipped camp bordering on to the jungle and at the base of the African gorge. There were
plenty of opportunities to start and land and after burning down the grass and removing the
thistles, we soon had our ideal African airport. Even equipped with landing cross and wind
sock. Within 5 days, using reed and bamboo, with the help of 30 blacks, we build a modern,
free floating hangar, 12 meter in width and 8 meter long. The roof was made from
corrugated iron, so that even in heavy downpours the planes were somewhat protected.

With the arrival of our planes, which had been equipped in Arusha, we also received some
3000 litres of fuel, which was delivered straight to the spot by the Shell organisation.
Deliveries from Arusha to Lake Manjara did not always go to plan, a Shell lorry for instance
once took three days, due to the tracks sodden with rain, and even with chains round the
tyres, there was no way the truck managed to break free on its own accord. It sounds
paradox having to drive with snow chains in Africa, but in the event of a sudden downpour it
is the only way.

Especially impressive was the transfer flight to Africa. We touched down in loops of joy at
Lake Manjara, when we saw the first zebras and gnus from above, much to the amazement
of the black welcoming committee, that had mustered up under instructions of our white
guide, Father Siedenkopf. The machines had survived the transport by sea extremely well,
and thus shortly after, we started taking up our intended work, and day-by-day flew over
the magnificent wilderness of Africa. Cameraman Schneeberger sat next to Suchocky, whilst
I myself took over the lead in the air and remained unaccompanied in my “moth”.

To start with, we flew along the African gorge and returned to camp every time. Later, once
we got a bit more experienced with the terrain, we put in stops here and there and set up
camp at various places that we could only reach and supply by air.

5 Why a chief is pondering

A little episode: I am flying acrobatic manoeuvres. It is being filmed. I am looping and rolling.
Then suddenly, the old Masai chief, who was watching over his herds close to our camp, and
who was watching the planes every morning with much curiosity, walked up to von Gontard
and said: “Why are you wasting the life of a young warrior for this, why not use an old one!”

Once I landed he looked at me confused and mumbled “Schauri a mungo” (ghostly magic).

During our first flight over the Serengeti steppe, we were so in awe of the wildlife that we
decided to land straight away. Around two hours after making camp, we saw a group of
Masais running towards us. Their delight being obvious, they stopped around 50 m away
from our planes, and as a sign that they came in peace; they rammed their spears into the
ground.

It isn’t very often that we have met such friendly and intelligent people and it did not take
long for us to become friends. A big delight for them seemed to be the optical lenses of our
hand cameras. We let the chief sit in the pilot seat of our plane and explained the rudder
steering of the plane to him. He liked it so much that he continued to operate the rudder for
almost an hour before he let someone else take his place. The Masai seem to understand
the need for modern technology and therefore we were not at all surprised when they
answered to the question of our white guide De Baer: “Are you not surprised that these
birds fly?” “Oh, but why should I be surprised about it, if you are not.”

During the morning we shared some of our rations with our friends. They thoroughly
enjoyed corned beef, German sausage and cakes. But the chief objected with the comment:
“Do you all really think, that these birdmen from afar have flown over to bring you food?
They have many more days to travel and need these rations more than you do.” After
further conversations we left our black friends behind to start our preparations to finally
move into the Serengeti. An hours flight, equal to a five day trip with a lorry, was the
distance between this part of the Serengeti and our camp. Six times the planes made this
journey and when Suchocky touched down for the seventh time, we were equipped with
rations and fuel for 10 days. We spend the cold nights in our warm sleeping bags under the
tarpaulin that covered our planes and let the morning wind wake us, as it started banging
against the cover. Our camp was around 1800m high up, the climate was at its best here,
and it certainly raised our overall well being and eagerness to work.

There was rarely a flight, where we did not spot any lions. Their preference seemed to be to

stay at the outside of the herds of gnus, and they seem to be watching those continuously.
The were laying in the long grass, often in families of three or five and enjoyed the sunshine.
If a lion had caught its prey, this was often clearly visible from the air, a horde of vultures
would usually gather near the kings breakfast table, usually in their hundreds waiting for a
chance to take a pick.

6 A lion is attacking the human birds

Due to the strong north easterly wind, that is usually blowing across the Serengeti, we were
able to reduce our flying speed considerably. A necessity if one wants to take a good picture
from the air. With the engine on tick over, flying into the wind, only meters of the ground,
we flew past these majestic creatures. Suddenly the peaceful sunbathing was over, and the
whipping of the tail showed a lot of life and sudden tension.

After the first two flyovers, we got more “daring”, and now, just six metres above the
ground we approached the pack from one side. I could hardly believe my eyes, when the
largest of them all suddenly took a giant leap and tried to attack my “moth”. Right at this
very moment I had my control stick between my legs, hands on my camera, to take a shot,
but then I thought it best to send a warning signal to Suchocky to alert him of the danger. I
turned around, only to watch the Klemm, approximately three metres off the ground,
heading for the pack. Within a second the yellow body jumped up in the air smashing
against the left side of the wing. The silver bird showed a huge black gaping hole, the torn
cloth flapping in the wind.

At the same time, whilst the massive lion that also took a hit is rolling on the ground, the
Klemm touched the ground with the tip of it’s wing. But before I could even think about the
worst of all outcomes, the “Klemm” has set herself straight again, and flying close to the
ground is heading back to camp. It was a great joy to be able to hand my friend a stiff drink
after such an escapade! The lion had damaged the front and back struts as well as the
torsion flaps. We found remnants of lion hair and on the underside, we could see definite
scratch marks. Just as well that the animal did not find any hold on the smooth surface,
otherwise the fate of the human bird would have been sealed.

The damage was soon dealt with and the next morning we were once again flying in unison
above the Serengeti. This time I had planned to land right next to a group of lions and
Schneeberger was to film the whole matter from his plane. I touched down my “moth”
around 30 metres away from the pack and surprised by my daring move, the big cats first
stared at me and then suddenly begun to hunt me down. There was only one way, full
throttle and go. Afterwards Suchocky and Schneeberger said that there was less than the
length of the machine distance between myself and the lions. Thus, the three of us decided
to avoid manoeuvres like this for the future. But I would like to mention, that it was mainly
the lionesses that showed the most daring behaviour. Quite often, flying over them, I could
see that it was the lioness that growled, where as the lion himself showed the more laid
back approach of keeping out of the way.

The giraffes were most amusing. One got the impression that curiosity took over, rather
than the need to run away. Because the head of the giraffe always remains horizontal to the
ground, a galloping giraffe looks almost as if it is floating in slow motion. Despite those
looks, these animals pick up enormous speed. I had it down to 65-75 km/h.

7 The angered Rhinoceros

The giraffe must be the most peaceful and harmless animal of the African wilderness. She
also gives the impression of an old tell-tale. She often stands around on the same spot,
staring in the distance, watching something that has caught her interest, but at the same
time, gives me the impression that she regrets her own existence and does not want to
disturb anybody.

By contrast, the rhinoceros are very different animals, with little brain, that have only their
strength to pride themselves with. The first rhino we flew over was a formidable bull, who
seemed to be very much angered by our appearance. He shot out like a canon ball, always
at an angle, and once we had flown over him, stopped and looked at us with his sad but
cunning eyes. It almost seemed as if he was upset not having set his horn upon us. After
repeating this several times, the colossus retreated most upset back into the bushes.
Suchocky and Siedentopf however had a more unpleasant experience. Suchocky, who went
to touch down, in front of him at the very last minute spotted a rhino, and whilst trying to
avoid the animal crashed into a termite hill. The whole matter ended in disaster, the
machine destroyed. Luckily, Suchocky and Father Siedenkopf escaped by the skin of their
teeth.

I landed right next to the crash site, trying to help the two unconscious men, not before
having fired a few warning shots at the angrily stamping rhino, that was next to the crashed
plane. I managed to lift the machine, that had flipped on its back, using my bush knife to cut
through the debris. Suchocky, who had flipped around twice, was not quite where I
expected him to be. Siedenkopf, I could only just make out his hand, and fearing the worst,
suddenly started swearing and thus proved, that an old Lettow-Vorbeck veteran was not
prepared to give up life that easily. Even though the whole episode put a damper on the joy
of his first flight, he turned out to be a good sport and albeit stiff and aching turned up for
dinner that night. Suchocky, whom I had taken back in my “moth” together with Siedenkopf,
however had been injured the most. We cared for him in camp for the best part of a
fortnight before we were able to transfer him to the hospital in Arusha. His brave “Klemm”
has moved to the eternal hunting grounds and, to this day, its remnants most probably to
still lie between the thorns and euphorbias at the foot of the Esimingor mountain.

I now had to try and cope with the rest of workload by myself, and together with

Schneeberger headed to Babati, where we were due to take pictures with the Ufiume
tribespeople. Babati is one of the most delightful places I came to know in East Africa,
halfway between Arusha and Dodoma. Laying around 1500 m above sea level, the
surrounding area is varied, the climate healthy and almost European. The Ufiume
tribespeople presented themselves well grown and graceful and their dances are a delight
to those who take joy in beauty.

8 The “moth”, a storm and six glasses of Martell

A further attraction for us was the Figtree Hotel, built by Lord Lovelace for tourists traveling
by car. Four little stone houses, with reed covered roofs and two beds each, would offer
comfort to any tired traveller, once they had taken a nightcap or two in the excellently
stocked up bar. Below this institution an airport, small but totally adequate. Two hours after
our landing it looked as if it was going to rain and Schneeberger and I ran over to the “moth”
to close flaps and windows and to cover her with a tarpaulin. The heavens had turned black-
blue, and the first big drops started hitting us and what happened then, happened in a jiffy.

Lightning after lightning, the wind picked up and a black wall headed towards us. Before we
could even crawl away from under the tarpaulin, we were tossed up in the air together with
the plane and tarpaulin alike. A real African tornado, with the heavens open, had surprised
us and put an end to all our plans. The little airport had almost turned into a lake by the
time I landed next to Schneeberger, who looked like a drowned rat. Freezing cold and
shivering we stood to look at the damage. The “moth” now stood 30m from where we had
put her, tarpaulin and all. The “first impression” we got seeing all the debris, was
devastating. In despair, we returned to the hotel and only after the sixth glass of Martell our
wet souls slowly revived. An hour later, the sun started shining as if nothing ever happened
and we were able to assess the damage. Both right wings were bent, so was the canapé and
the attenuation surface was damaged too; the whole thing looked more like a foldable
dinghy than an aeroplane. There ways only two ways to go about it: abandon the machine
or re-build it. I decided on the latter. Turn around, march, march, back to battle! Ten hours
in a car equals 45 mins flying time! Baier was fetched from camp, he had to be ready with all
his gear in 15 minutes, then off to Arusha, got stuck in the mud, carburettor and tyre
changes followed hand in hand, so that the estimate of a 10-hour drive was well
underestimated. Apparently there were two German carpenters in Arusha, who I wanted to
enrol to repair the machine in Babati. Arriving late at night, I went searching for the two,
and they willingly agreed to help out a fellow German and climbed into our vehicle with
their saws and pots of glue the next morning. What these two master craftsmen Glaser and
Bleich achieved together with Baier in the next 10 days, certainly adds to the reputation of
German craftsmanship abroad. On the eleventh day, there she was, our “moth”, still slightly
bend, covered in red cello patches, almost looking like a butterfly, but ready to go. The
backup machine had also been made ready and we were able to continue our work.

The next set of work for the flying machines was scheduled near the crater of the Old
Doenjo Lengai, also called “melting pot of the gods”. For this we had to land between the
craters, which would test the stability of both machines.

9 Acrobatic in Nairobi - Following the compass!

It was also here, where we took excellent shots of migrating cranes and storks flying past.
No tree, no bush, just lava, sometimes broken up with little bundles of grass. This area is
lacking water, more than any in east Africa and they say that even the rainy season does not
have an impact here. The night here was spent under the clear skies, most beautiful and
almost magic.

Often we had to hurry, repeatedly the build up of clouds and downpours which brought
traffic to a halt, indicated the beginning of the rainy season and that would inevitably be the
end of our undertaking. For that very reason, and because we did not want to return home
with only half of the work done, we now divided ourselves into several groups. Zietz was
getting ready in Nairobi to take on the Kongo, where he and Nordhaus would catch
elephants, rhinos and hippos on film. Junghans and Bohne went into the region of Kondoa-
Irangi, Gontard and Schneeberger and the others headed for Nairobi where they prepared
an expedition for Kenia. Whilst the “moth”, after the sustained wounds and thus not
suitable to be flown back to Europe, was loaded up in Arusha, I flew the B.F.W. to Nairobi. I
had installed an auxiliary tank, which increased her reach to 700 km, that should be enough
to easily reach the various Shell fuel stations on the way back. Following an invite to the
Nairobi Aero Club, I once again displayed some aerobatics, to thank the English for their
hospitality in Nairobi.

Upon the beginning of the rainy season, myself, with Schneeberger on board, started

heading back to Europe in the B.F.W. The first leg should lead us via Kisumu to Jinja. Just
using a compass for navigation, we flew over the 3000 m high Mau gorge, which was
followed by a circa 70 km wide jungle belt. The damp, rotten smell coming from the jungle
made us glad to see the gulf of Kavirondo by Lake Victoria in the distance. With fuelled up at
Kisumu, which has a formidable airport and a few minutes later we were back in the air,
following the north shore of the lake, heading towards the equator. After around 40 km we
left villages and huts behind us, swamps, islands and the jungle indicated the we were
leaving the densely settled Kenia behind us and were heading towards the still relatively
untouched Uganda.

Just as we were admiring the beauty and wilderness that nature offered us, and
Schneeberger reaching for the camera wanting to ban this beauty on film for eternity, we
were suddenly shaken up by heavy vibrations coming from the fuselage of the plane. I
turned around, only to see Schneeberger wrapping both arms around the fuel tank and
pushing it to the floor. The strap holding the tank, had torn, thus the tank now dangling
freely and its vibrations projecting through the whole plane. This could have caused the fuel
pipe to rupture, had Schneeberger not had the strength to hold the tank in place until we
arrived in Jinja. An emergency landing in this beautiful, but also dangerous terrain would
have been equivalent to

10 Imprisoned by the baking heat

“Hats off and pray”. The trees of the jungle, that reached directly up to the shores of the
lake, where over 80 m high in parts, which would have made it impossible to land the craft
or glide through the trees. But even if it would have been possible, the jungle carried on for
another 80 km to the north, so after evaluating the situation, I instinctively steered her
towards the lake. But here I discovered hundreds of crocodiles laying in wait in the shallow
water and on the shores, which would have quite happily shown an interest in getting to
know the human bird from Uleya (Europe). So, we were relieved when we finally saw Jinja
on the horizon and the formidable Ibis hotel, situated directly on the lake, where we were
superbly catered for.

With the help of a Ford representative we manged to obtain the necessary parts to
strengthen the installation of said fuel tank and also inspected the engine, especially since
the next leg of the journey would cover the distance of several hundred miles over lakes and
swamps, along the Blue Nile to Juba in Sudan. Upon touch down, a humid, unbearable heat
awaited us, and at first we had no other aim than to seek shelter in the modern town hall,
operated by the Sudan Railway and Steamship company. Here we had to undergo customs
control, a first on our way back from Africa. After paying duty for the hand held cameras and
the films, we carried on, heading towards Malakal. Shortly after we had flown over
numerous herds of elephants near Lado and Bor on the River Nile, the oncoming wind
changed and with an almighty back wind pushing us we started to fly over the dreaded Sud
at speed. As fate would have it, a broken fuel line leading to the main tank forced us to land
in exactly this stretch. Luckily we manged to find an old track we could to use for landing,
traffic is only possible for a few months a year in this unforgiving terrain. This track is the
only way to find planes forced to land in emergencies. The staff of the Shell organisation in
Juba had made us aware of this track before we took off, in case help was required.

Communication with Shell worked well, and after three days we heard the engine of
Cambell Blacks “pub moth” that announced liberation out of this baking heat. It was
Cambell Black, after leaving us with water and cigarettes, who once back in Juba informed
the Royal Airforce by cable about our whereabouts. And that very same evening, Lieutenant
Jones landed right next to us in a large two seater military machine, bringing us much
needed help and fuel. In true military fashion and comradery, the head of the civil aviation
authority, wing commander Sholte Douglas of Khartoum had sent two planes to Sudan
looking for us.

The fourth night of our unplanned stay was spent with the inhospitable Lau-tribe. These
would only help in exchange for hard cash and then only very little.

11 The outrageous son of the chief – Learning a lesson in
Sudan

Especially the son of the chief was a master con-man. Somewhere close to us must have
been some cattle, for he kept returning to us in the dark with half a litre of milk in a jug but
would not part with it for less than 5 shilling. A brass cigarette case made in Vienna was
rejected by him, he thought it to be a forgery, same as some cheap Glass Perl necklaces we
had carried with us for the purpose of bartering. At first our friend must have thought that
we had landed here out of choice, but when he finally found out that we were unable to
leave, his demands grew cheekier and cheekier. But he was soon stopped in his tracks with
the arrival of a rescue plane, and his behaviour changed into being the most submissive.

The terrible heat in this area had worsened Schneebergers condition considerably. Since

leaving Juba he had suffered from fever attacks. On top of that, we were short of drinking
water, as we were only able to filter small amounts of the muddy water ground water. So,
we breathed a big sigh of relief when we were able to leave the area after four days and
finally reached Malakal after an hour and a half flight, where our friends from the Royal
Airforce received us with a chilled Bavarian beer in hand. North from Malakal onwards all
green disappears from the landscape and no animals are in sight. Sand, palm trees and
rocky mountain ranges did not liven up the picture underneath our planes. In Khartoum I
finally got the chance to express my thanks to the chivalrous English pilots. The evening with
wing commander Sholte Douglas and his darling wife will never be forgotten, especially
since we found out that we had served on the same section of the front in the 1917 – 1918
conflict. The duties of the English pilots in Khartoum are demanding and I don’t envy them.
Only the very best can cope with the climate and the demanding work and I strongly believe
that the lessons learned in Sudan will always be beneficial, even though it cannot be
compared to many years of flying in Europe. Comradery and mutual consideration are
everything here.

In Atbara we experienced a further token of such English comradery when we noticed that
we had broken one of our valve springs. I tried my luck in the local workshops of the Sudan
Railway Company, and lone behold, within half an hour I left with a handful of quickly
manufactured springs and my engine was duly fixed. For our next stretch of the journey
across 600 km of desert towards Wadi Halfa, we decided to take a spare fuel can, just in
case and especially since that very morning a very strong wind started blowing up the sand.
Half way into our journey we flew over a sandstorm that reached up to a height of around
1200m and took all view away. Shortly after however, the wind stopped and we were able
to reach Wada Halfa under favourable conditions. The view of the very few palm trees this
little harbour town had to offer seemed almost a treat after the long stretch of desert.

12 Return to normality

We were put up over night on a house boat of the Sudan Shipping Company, that was
looked after formidably, just like all the townhalls and other stations this company owned.
In the evening, when we let the engines run, we noticed much to our dismay, that the front
engine mount was leaking, most probably due to overuse or the fine desert sand we had
flown through. This caused a knocking noise, when running idle, which we put down to the
bearing running dry. But after consulting our handbook and finding out that our four
cylinder engine was hung in six different places, we had to agree with the two mechanics
from Imperial Airways, that five working engine mounts should suffice for the last stretch of
the journey, especially when one considers that this exquisite, robust engine had never
really let us down.

As we passed Assuan, Luxor and Assiut below us and set eyes on the pyramids of Giza, Egypt
appearing in the midday sun, we realized that our adventure, the hunts and the carefree
times were long behind us and upon landing in Kairo we would return to the grey
normalities of day-to-day life.

13 Chart

The bottom chart shows Lake Victoria at the top and Tanganyika territory, former east
Africa (British Mandate)






Geographic Image
(German edition)

Geographic Section, Velhagen & Klasing, Leipzig


118 IMAGES
(German edition)