Battle of the Third Reich

Corporal Abu Mustafa was sitting on a mottled yellow-brown sandstone city brick, backed by a thick city castellation, with an iron basin in front of him and a small campfire lit inside.

"God bless you, I heard that Major Albi is going to be transferred, is it true." The high-ranking soldier Hashim picked an aluminum lunch box with a thick branch and roasted it on the fire, and soon the air floated There was a smell of oil.

"The cursed donkey should have gone long ago. I haven't got a vacation for two months, but the greedy donkey ran to the brothel in Oran City every day until the drunkenness of the midnight drink came back, I still swear at our soldiers. If I were the base commander, I would have hanged this **** on the lamppost in the port." Corporal Mustafa groped in the debris bag on the belt and pulled out a long A long pottery pipe made of clay, he carefully pinched a ball of shredded tobacco from the cloth bag and filled it into the pot.

"Sergeant, I heard that the Germans are about to fight, what do you think will happen." Hassan, the top soldier, picked a burning red branch from the brazier and respectfully lit Mustafa's cigarette.

"It's all rumors. The Germans are separated from us by the sea. What have you seen from the Germans? I saw them when I was young, wearing big leather boots, wearing black pointed helmets, and walking like ducks one by one. The kick is so high. God bless you, we don’t have to fight them anymore. I heard from Mr. Bridge in the morning that France and Germany are negotiating and the war is over.” Algeria danced with gestures, proudly. The young rookies under their hands showed off their broad vision and deep experience, but Master Mustafa went out and wandered around.

The port of Mirskbil is two kilometers northwest of Port Oran. The two ports are actually close to each other, with only a small mountain beam in between. The port of Mirskbil is surrounded by this mountain range, the bay is surrounded by mountains on three sides, and it is more than 300 meters above sea level. It is a natural defensive line, because Port Oran is a civilian port. The merchant ships of various countries are busy, the waterways are crowded, and the personnel is complicated. It is very inconvenient for the naval ships to stop in Oran. Therefore, France built a seaport in the Millsqueer Bay to anchor the navy ships alone.

This is a naval anchoring port. It is not a regular naval base. It does not have any necessary base facilities such as docks, canals, ship repair yards, ordnance processing, etc. Only an old sea defense fort stands abruptly on the tip of a cape at the end of the port.

A huge breakwater extends from the side of the fortress, blocking the waves of the Mediterranean Sea from the port. The harbour has no waves, and the level is like a mirror.

The fortress is a very standard French style, near the tip of the cape is a semi-underground bunker position and a single sharp bunker, a lighthouse is built on the bunker. Behind the bunker is the main fortress, which is composed of a North African standard double-squared fortification and an obtuse angle bunker. On the side of the coast, a deep moat is dug and a defensive wall is built. Mustafa They are now sitting on the first basement wall of the huge main fortress.

"It is said that these two big guys are going back to France next week. When all these warships leave, we can relax a lot." Hashim took out a salt shaker from the debris bag and handed it to Hassan. The latter skillfully opened the salt shaker and twisted a pinch of salt into the lunch box.

"On next Monday, the sailor on the Provence still asked me to find a way to get some good goods for him. Now that there is nothing in France, I got him this number, and he can turn it over twice when he returns "Mustafah stretched out four fingers and shook his hands, then he snorted a pipe on his military boots. Pick up a stick of wood and poke off the carbon deposits in the smoke pot, then blow it vigorously, carefully wrapped in cloth. Put it back in the debris bag.

"You made a lot of money this time, Corporal." Hasan asked with a smile.

"What do I earn, I still owe a **** debt to repay." Mustafa pouted to his subordinates.

"Okay, hot, and ready to eat." Hashem shouted happily. He took out a large aluminum spoon from his arms and wiped it on his lapel.

"Oh, give me a big piece, Hasan, and take out the remaining bread." Mustafa quickly picked up the iron plate set aside on the ground and leaned over. As the three Algerian soldiers happily ate after meals, they did not know that twenty kilometers away, a group of deaths was rushing towards them quickly against the sea.

Fairey Swordfish is how to say. . . . Semi-modern aircraft. It has the technical characteristics of all contemporary models, such as metal fuselage and wings, high-horsepower engines, a full set of instruments, on-board radio, on-board compass, and air supply system, while it retains an open cabin, double The main wing and fixed landing gear, as well as slow to make people speechless, this is an old-fashioned aircraft made with advanced technology. It is surprising that this aircraft is still the latest model and has just served in the Royal Navy for two years.

As we all know, the British Royal Navy’s brain hole has simply broken through the sky, but in fact, once the Royal Navy is conservative and rigid, it is invincible. The swordfish style is the masterpiece of the Royal Navy's conservative thinking.

The conservatives in the navy believe that as a naval aircraft, they must be able to carry torpedoes and bombs. At the same time, because they need to take off on very short aircraft carrier runways, the aircraft must have great lift. Which wing type has the highest lift? Of course it is Double wing.

At the same time, the Navy’s aircraft must have a navigator and an observer, because most of the eyes of the pilot have to take care of the instrument panel, so reconnaissance and search cannot be guaranteed. Looking at the target on the sea in the air is often just a small point, once it is missed A thousand miles away. In addition, there is no reference for flying at sea. You must always remember the heading speed and time of the aircraft and calculate the exact route and position of the aircraft to ensure the safe arrival of the target area and return to the flight. It is difficult to rely on the pilot alone to take care of these problems, so There must be a pilot to navigate.

In addition, in order to report the investigation and search results at sea to the mothership or the base in time, the aircraft must be equipped with a remote radio. This is not a wireless phone. It can only send Morse code. The pilot is already in a hurry. Newspaper, then you need to bring another radio operator. Because the operator is idle most of the time during the flight, in line with the tradition of the Navy not keeping idlers, let's take the tail machine gunner.

As a result, this ugly biplane torpedo plane was actually tucked into three people, and the cockpit section was stepped. The pilot sat high on the first stage of the aircraft, and the other two people sat in the arc-shaped cabin of the lower fuselage. The operators and observers sat back to back with only a wooden back in the middle.

The cabin in the rear seat is completely open, and the front is fully shielded against the back panel of the pilot seat. The observer does not have a special flight seat, but sits on a wooden board lying horizontally in the cabin. This design is to make He can stand up in the cockpit at any time, lean out to observe and search downward. During the reconnaissance and search missions, the observer even stood most of the time throughout the voyage.

Observers can stand and wave their arms in the open cabin. Using voice calls and the Royal Navy’s general gestures to direct pilots to change flight directions or direct machine gunners to aim, this is second to none in World War II torpedo planes, making the swordfish crew actually look more like a group of rowing sailors.

The observer of Royal Navy Torpedo Bomber 818 Squadron 1st Squadron No. 2 and Royal Navy Sergeant Raymond Hansen is now standing on his cockpit seat, striking the panel of the side compartment hard.

"Okay, the hands began to jump, there must be something blocked." Looking at the yellow light of the little light in the cabin, the speedometer and altimeter finally started to work normally. Hansen relaxed. Tone.

"Don't be nervous. Sergeant, don't worry at all, we just have to follow the formation." Sergeant Carter, the pilot, said with a smile on the intercom.

"Pay attention to the long plane, our height is too high." Hansen knocked angrily on the siding of the pilot's compartment. He turned his head and looked back. In the bright moonlight, the Mediterranean sea below is covered with a silver gauze. The milky white coating of the swordfish torpedo machine is clear under this bright moonlight, and even the number on the fuselage is clearly identifiable.

"The moonlight is too bright. The French can easily see us," Hansen said in the intercom.

"Don't worry, it is difficult to distinguish clearly from below. Such moonlight is good for us. We can clearly find the location of the target." The pilot replied loudly.

"Attention, the harbour has been seen, the target is the one on the right, I can't believe it, the French have no lights control." The pilot's surprise sound came from the headset, and Hansen rushed to the side of the cabin and leaned forward. Looking away.

Under the moonlight, the white coastline and gray mountains are clearly discernible. The observer saw the huge city with a little light flashing at a glance. This should be the prosperous Port of Oran.

"Following the long flight, the French were unprepared. I saw the port of Milskbil and they turned on the lights."

"They didn't know we were here, did you see it? Their lighthouse is navigating us. There are three thousand meters, ready for flares." The pilot roared loudly, venting his excitement.

The enemy is unprepared. If the French are not aware of it within a kilometer, they will have no chance. This battle will be as easy as shooting.

Hansen bent down, loosened the straps on the cabin wall, and lifted the five-kilogram hand-throw bomb. He gathered the lights of the lights and carefully checked the safety latch, then picked up the bomb and moved it to the side of the cabin.

Forty-eight swordfish torpedo planes are close to the sea and advance towards the target at a very low altitude of 20 meters. Every pilot stared nervously at the shining port, fearing that in the next second there will be a skylight tracer rushing towards him.

The twelve swordfishes in the first row began to change their formations according to plan. The twelve aircrafts formed four three-aircraft formations, and then slowly climbed up to sprint towards the breakwater. Five hundred meters, four hundred meters, three hundred meters, one hundred meters. . . . The breakwater was clearly identifiable, and the pilots also saw the huge hull and towering chimney of the French battleship docked behind the breakwater.

"Drop the bombs!"

The swordfish torpedo machine had reached an altitude of 300 meters. The formation pulled up the nose violently and continued to climb upwards almost steeply. At the same time, the observers of the crew pulled out the insurance on the flares at the moment when the plane passed the breakwater And then threw the bomb out of the cabin.

The bomb exploded in a muffled sound after falling twenty meters. Twelve flares hanged slowly under a silk parachute, and the flares were like twelve little suns illuminating the berth of Mirskbil Harbor like daylight.

At this time the French finally responded, and the harsh alarm suddenly reverberated over the port area. But everything is too late. The twelve torpedo planes of the second echelon protruded into the harbor from the left side of the breakwater, and then flew directly to the mountain range behind the harbor. They made a nearly Baidu turn at a gentle mountain pass and launched from the east of the port toward the breakwater. Dive.

Twelve torpedo planes lined up in two rows and reached a height of ten meters. A torpedo was fired against the French warship moored by the breakwater against the water, and then almost pulled up against the battleship mast. He climbed up and evacuated to the open sea without hesitation.

The third wave followed, followed the same route as the second wave, and the twelve-round torpedo almost followed the path of the former torpedo. Then the last wave of torpedo planes intruded from the breakwater gap and launched a row of torpedoes towards the French destroyer fleet deep in the port. After the launch, the fleet turned its head over the mountain range northwest of the harbour and disappeared from the French sight in.

The last wave of attack was the formation of flares, and they returned from the pass. The last batch of torpedoes were dropped against the burning French battleship, and then headed for the sea.

The whole battle is like a flowing cloud, dripping freely. It took only five minutes from the first flares to the last sword fish torpedo evacuation. In these five minutes, the Royal Navy's swordfish torpedo fleet was like a god, helping to complete the attack accurately and perfectly, but from beginning to end, the French navy was not able to shoot one shot.

"God is on it. It's a German plane! The Germans are coming to bomb!" Mustafa, holding his Lebel rifle, stood blankly on the wall of the fortress wall, staring at the harbour. A huge battleship blazing with flames. At this moment, a bright white light flashed by. Then a huge ball of fire rose from the breakwater, and with a harsh blasting sound, Mustafa was blown down by a strong storm.

"The torpedo crew sent a report that the attack was successful. The results were huge. The French fleet was all in the harbor, and at least two battleships and two destroyers were sunk. Three cruisers and four destroyers were injured. The French did not return, and our people did not fight back. Injured." The communications officer climbed the bridge briskly with a message. He gave the message to Somerville, who was sitting on the commander's seat with his eyes closed and rejoicing.

"Is it? Very good." Somerville nodded and took the telegram calmly. Captain Scott found that the lieutenant's knee was shaking violently.

"Now we are one step away from success. Only when all the planes return to land and land before we can really complete the task." Somerville shrugged his shoulders and stood up.

"Everyone's performance is in my eyes. Everyone has fulfilled their duties and fulfilled their responsibilities perfectly. The professionalism and discipline of the officers and men of the entire fleet have impressed me. This is the first in human history. Once a carrier carrier aircraft was used to strike the fleet in the enemy's harbour. This battle will be recorded in the history of the imperial war. When I return to the UK, I will ask the Prime Minister for all meritorious personnel." Somerville dropped the telegram , Said to Captain Scott with a smile.

"My Excellency Commander, just now the destroyer Antelope sent a report that the northwest of the fleet found the shadow of the ship and was approaching us." A staff officer reported loudly with the phone receiver inside the ship.

"What? Identify the type of ship immediately, and the **** team is ready for battle." Somerville ran out of the bridge, and he supported the high-power telescope on the observation platform toward the northwest.

At this time, the United Kingdom has not yet developed a sea search radar. The exploration of surface ships still relies on visual and reconnaissance aircraft, otherwise the Glory will not be targeted.

"Let the destroyer come out to investigate and confirm the identity of the other party."

"Are we going to turn to avoid immediately." Scott asked.

"Don’t panic, there are no fleets of other countries nearby, the Germans can’t pass Gibraltar, the French have been beaten in the port, the Italians will not run so far, maybe Gibraltar’s squadron or Cunningham’s Mediterranean Fleet." Somerville stood calmly on the observation deck, holding the telescope to look between the sea and the sky. Under the bright moonlight, there was indeed a little ship shadow vaguely appearing on the horizontal line.

With the passage of time, the ship shadow is getting bigger and bigger, and it can gradually distinguish the outline. The British have discovered that the target is not a ship. A few smaller ship shadows are found on both sides of the target, which is obviously a fleet.

"There is no formed fleet in the Mediterranean Sea. That must be Cunningham's. Has the radio not been contacted yet? Let the destroyer emit a light identification signal to the other party." The outer destroyers began to accelerate towards the target, and the ship The signal light on the side of the bridge flashes and sends an identification light to the other party.

The other party apparently also found the British fleet. It adjusted its course. The other party did not reply to the light inquiry, nor received the radio call sign, so it silently inserted diagonally towards the British fleet’s route. Somerville found that something was wrong at this time. Too.

The signal soldier who had been staring at the destroyer lights exclaimed loudly. "God, the Antelope sent a signal, that's a battleship! It's Richelieu!"

Just as Somerville turned his head in panic, the distant ship's shadow shone brightly, and the French battleship shot her first volley after serving. (To be continued, please search Piaotian Literature, the novel is better and faster!