He strolls through the streets of Schweidnitz; taking in the fresh air; basking in the warm sunlight pouring down onto his face—as if the Lord himself were blessing him. The crowd of fanatics now left him alone. He's already done the whole act, his signatures are being sold off in the streets at this moment. Though curious eyes did still watch him from a distance. But, of course! They know better than to disturb "Der Rote Kampfflieger". Back in January, he was awarded the Blue Max. A war hero like him needs his peace and quiet.

He's walking in your direction. He goes up the stone, arch bridge, pausing to look down at the pond where fishes squabble about, as if sensing his presence, they point up, swish their tails, seemingly dancing in the water—a show for the hero! You sneak glances at him. He doesn't seem to register your presence at all.