This is the story of a man who should have retired, who should have quit, and didn’t. This is the story of a many who was in his 70’s when he made his greatest contribution to mankind. This is the story of a man who was labeled “crazy” by his peers, ostracized by his fellow generals, badmouthed by his superiors and forced to sell most of his possessions to fulfill a pipe dream.  And it’s the story of a man who ultimately became a hero, a legend to his people, so much so that they got behind him and helped him make his dream a reality.

It’s 1900, the start of a new century, and Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin is growing old. But he’s had an exciting life: a nobleman, a cavalryman, even been in the American Civil War and up in a balloon.

But he always seems to be on the losing side. In the Civil War he has to retreat when the Union Army is defeated by General Lee at Chancellorsville, Virginia. Then his native land of Bavaria gets in a brawl with militaristic Prussia, the dominant German state, and loses. Bavaria is gobbled up by Prussia and now becomes part of the “new” Germany that is dominated by its “Blood and Iron” Chancellor, Otto Von Bismark.

Now Prussia and Germany go to war with France. Von Zeppelin leads a calvary patrol deep into French territory. He and his men are surrounded by French troops and nearly wiped out; only von Zeppelin’s fast horse allows him to escape.

After the war, von Zeppelin ends up on the losing side. He clashes with the new Kaiser, Wilhelm II, who tells his soldiers that “if I tell you to, you must shoot your own families.” The Kaiser also tells them to “behave like Huns” toward the enemy, thereby giving his enemies propaganda for future wars when they call his German troops “Huns.”

Not surprisingly, the Kaiser doesn’t want this maverick cavalry general from southern Germany around. So von Zeppelin is forcibly put out to pasture in 1887 by the German Kaiser. But the Count isn’t ready to retire. Dreams of ballooning haunt him.

Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin irritates Kaiser Wilhelm II with his plans to build a big dirigible. Instead of one balloon, von Zeppelin’s will have many, enclosed in a rigid aerodynamic framework. The newspapers call him “The Crazy Count.” “I am considered little better than a lunatic,” he tells his family. And it doesn’t help that the Kaiser forced him into early retirement.

Von Zeppelin returns to his Bavarian hometown of Friedrichshafen on Lake Constance — which flows down from the Swiss Alps to feed the Rhine River — to build his first dirigible in 1900. It is 416-feet-long and he calls it the LZ-1 Luftship or “airship” Zeppelin. It is underpowered and its two engines combined are about as powerful as that of a Volkswagen Beetle.

The Count, who wears a yachting cap and says a prayer when he sets out, is a godlike figure with a mustache and a halo of white hair.

But prayers won’t help. The rudder ropes tangle and the airship comes down in the lake. Von Zeppelin is broke, and neither the army nor the government will help to dig him out of his financial hole. “An airship man without an airship,” he says, “is like a cavalry officer without a horse.” His staff now consists of two night watchmen and an engineer. But the engineer comes up with a new design.

The Count sells his horses and carriages to raise money, sends away his servants, and tries again. He’s 70 years old, but he’s like a bulldog. He just won’t quit.

 Von Zeppelin also appeals to the German people to help him with his crazy idea.  They hold a national lottery to raise money, and “The Crazy Count” builds a second Zeppelin in 1908.  He flies it down the Rhine River past Basel, Switzerland, and the children pour out of school when the church bells ring.  

Then the engine quits; someone accidentally put water in the gas tank. Von Zeppelin lands and anchors near the town of Echterdingen. But that afternoon a savage storm rolls across the lake and hits the Count’s dirigible the way a bat hits a ball. It tears loose from its moorings and skitters over the forest like a wayward balloon. The chief mechanic, who is inside, rushes along the catwalk and tries to reach the gas valves to deflate the hydrogen and bring the airship down before it destroys itself.

 But the dirigible grazes a high tree, and all hell breaks loose, literally.  “Within the airship there was a suspiciously bright light which seemed to grow closer and closer.  And suddenly I knew.  FIRE!”  This is the first time anyone sees a hydrogen dirigible on fire.  

             “I had only one thought,” says the chief mechanic.  “Jump!”  But he’s still too high.  The balloons between the ribs go off like cannon shots, the whole ship glows in vivid red, and the flames eat through to the gasoline tanks.  He falls from the flaming wreckage, and then sees it settle down on top of him.  He covers his head as it caves in, pushes it up with superhuman strength, and slips out of the wreckage like an eel.  Then he stumbles to his feet, and says to himself, “Now, run like hell!”

With burns all over, instead he walks to the hospital where interns bandage him.  Then he takes the train back to Friedrichshafen, where the dirigible is based.  But when he sees the flags flying at half-mast, he knows it’s all over.

The next morning, with his face blistered, the chief mechanic goes to see the Count. When von Zeppelin smiles at him, he thinks the Count must really be crazy. But then von Zeppelin leads the mechanic into the office. There, on the desk, is a huge pile of money and checks. The German people hear about the accident and send money, with more coming.

At the scene of the accident a man asks people to contribute. And again they respond. People even throw money from a passing steamer. Bowling clubs contribute. A child sends 20 pfennigs — about one dime — his church donation. “I hope my father doesn’t find out,” he says.

The Count is a national hero. Pastry chefs bake tiny sugar Zeppelins. Stores offer Zeppelin coats to be worn in the air. Von Zeppelin receives the equivalent of $2.5 million, and builds the most famous airship in the world, the Zeppelin.

In 1917, while his beloved Zeppelins crash and burn over England, the old cavalryman is finally unhorsed forever.  When von Zeppelin dies, the Kaiser gives him a huge state funeral.  All the dignitaries and generals who kill millions on the Western Front dress in their Pickelauben, and march through Berlin behind his casket.  But the glory is short-lived.  Germany loses the war, and destroys most of von Zeppelin’s dirigibles so they won’t fall into allied hands.