For my family, my heroes:
Manfred von Richthofen (the Red Baron) was a hero to his German comrades-at-arms. But the ace has crossed over from history and lives in another “battle,” one that’s captured the hearts and imaginations of young and old alike: Snoopy Versus the Red Baron.
Snoopy, that extroverted, loveable beagle fancies himself
as a hero, as well—a flying ace—with ears flapping beneath him as he flashes a
fearless grin and flies skillfully and with ease over rooftops and clouds, far
above enemy lines, aware of nothing but the engine’s roar and the company of
his own thoughts.
Snoopy was my hero, lying on top of that dog house,
shooting down the cares of life, depending on no one … except a certain young
boy who seemed quite opposite in character—not heroic at all. Charlie Brown was
struggling to become a man while dodging “bullets” that seemed to threaten his
very existence. Snoopy was a satisfying distraction from life’s
less-than-pleasant circumstances. Charlie Brown was able to entice him down with
“sustenance,” and together they enjoyed adventures and learned lessons. After
all, isn’t that what it’s all about? Adventure, sustenance, lessons?
I could easily relate to Charlie Brown (I still can), but
I longed to “be” Snoopy. Snoopy had attitude—all the right “stuff”—the stuff
that heroes were made of. And, of course he was cute, too.
In contrast, there was nothing cute about the real ace,
Manfred Von Richthofen. Handsome, perhaps, with a look of confident
determination, von Richthofen was both friend and foe, the ace of aces. To
countrymen, he was “der Rote Baron”; to the French, “le Diable Rouge” ; and, to the English, the “Red Baron.” He was born in
Germany, in 1892, into a family of soldiers, a family who loved horseback
riding and whose favourite pastime was game-shooting. He became a marksman at
an early age and a cadet by age 11. It seemed natural, then, in World War I,
when he joined the cavalry as part of Germany’s reconnaissance.
In 1915,
the Baron joined the Flying Service and, in that same year, made his first solo
flight. The rest is history: von Richthofen painted his Albatros D III, red,
flagging his allegiance to German countrymen and, ironically, to his enemies,
as well.
April 1917 was called “Bloody April” after the Baron
downed 22 British aircraft. In all, he was credited with 80 victories. Then,
just one year later, on April 21, 1918, the ace was defeated, leaving the skies
forever, to live on in the hearts of those who fought with him, those who
recognized raw, red courage and those who could only imagine flying high above
enemy lines, untouched, defeating every enemy who came into view. To those, he
was a hero.
Perhaps that’s what heroes do: They lift us up from where
we are, from a world fraught with cares and defeat, even if only for a while,
for a temporary reprieve and a taste of victory. Just enough victory, perhaps,
for us to become a hero in someone else’s eyes, to walk alongside them and give
them hope.
This
story is about heroes. It’s about Manfred von Richthofen, World War 1 flying
ace—hero to his countrymen—and about a beagle who dreamed about being a hero
and then became one.
And, it’s about what we learn from heroes.
“It’s about knowing who you are, Charlie Brown. It’s
about living above the enemy … about living with courage.” At least, that’s
what I imagine Snoopy would say, if he could talk. Heroes tend to fly higher
than the rest of us (it’s so much easier to see from “up there”).
But wait, my story’s not quite finished; you see,
sometimes heroes are found in the most unlikely places and initially might not
even look like heroes. Von Richthofen was a hero to those for whom he fought.
Snoopy
is still that adorable beagle, and it’s pretty darn hard not to love him and
harder still not to see him as a hero. Charlie Brown is a hero, as well. He’s
the boy who never gives up, who just keeps going back to that pitcher’s mound,
again and again. “Perseverance in the face of adversity. Now that’s heroic,
Charlie Brown.”
It’s
important to recognize the heroes in our lives, the ones who cheer us on, then
celebrate with us when we succeed, the ones who help us overcome defeat, the
ones who help us get up and going again when we’re defeated.
This story is for the heroes in my life, especially for
my husband Wade; and for our children, Amber and Owen.
You are my
heroes.