"My flying machine, an Albatros D.III, was simply shot down and is behind those trees,"

WW2 Documentary "My flying machine, an Albatros D.III, was simply shot down and is behind those trees," the stocky figure, clad in a thick, green German Uhlan uniform said, as he remained beside the arrangement of white tents and pointed over the field. "I'm an officer in the Prussian Army, battling for the Austro-Hungarian Powers."

"I've been nourished," he kept, waving toward the sideless tent that more likely than not served as a consolidated kitchen and mess, "and they're dealing with me. I'm sitting tight for a truck to take me back to my squadron."

A triple of World War I biplanes, including the Sopwith Camel, the Albatros D Va, and the Fokker D.VII, were bunched at the south end of this compound and encompassed by storages bearing early flying machine maker names, for example, "Imperial Aircraft Factory Farnborough," "Louis Bleriot," and "A. V. Roe and Company, Ltd.," glimmering underneath the dark blue in which a couple swollen cloud islands glided on this mid-September, occasionally rotating day. Its warm temperatures, questionably sticking to summer, intermittently surrendered their grasp to the fall, with the incidental nibble of fresh air that had as of now burnt a couple scattered trees with its first fire a quiet, untainted day, maybe, yet one on which World War I's contention would seethe in its skies before it was over.

Had the Austro-Hungarians succeeded in catching two foe air ship, one could just ponder? On the off chance that they had, they had done as such with little resistance, since they showed up in perfect condition.

In any case, a second look uncovered this was not an associated settlement some place in Europe, but rather Cole Palen's Old Rhinbeck Aerodrome in New York's Hudson Valley. It was 2012 and the "Armed force officer" was Scott Greb, an individual from the World War I Austro-Hungarian Reenacting Group, which spoke to the genuine K.u.K. Infantry Regiment Number 63 Freiherr von Pitreich.

Shaped in Innsbruck, Austria, in 1860 after the exchange of forces from two existing infantry regiments, it enrolled troops from the Siebenburgen territory of then-Southern Hungary, and its regimental "Inhaber," designated in 1903, was the Freiher von Pitrech after whom it had been named, who himself had held this position for the term of the regiment's presence. Amid the flare-up of World War I, regimental leader Oberst Johann Hefner was accountable for three of its four forces.

"The aerodrome is basically a side effect of World War I," said Neill Herman, Old Rhinebeck's Air Show President, "the war to end all wars, and we believe it's befitting to recollect that contention and honor the individuals who served in it-coming up, as it may be, on the hundredth commemoration. We've utilized reenactors and shows as instructive apparatuses for youngsters and as a celebration to the groups of its veterans. The effect has a tendency to lessen after some time and it's essential to recognize the part they played in our peace."

"This was a back line camp," said Greb, waving his hand toward the different tents ascending from the generally desolate grass yard between Old Rhinebeck's secured span passage and its Snack Stand. "It was a long ways behind the front-more stationary and welds delighted in a more agreeable presence here. Trucks could get to it and convey crisp proportions."