Battle of the Third Reich

British bomber pilots will have to respond to the first wave of strikes in the future, and the second wave of strikes from German anti-aircraft guns has already followed. ≤, another volley of artillery, the staggering high rate of fire of the German anti-aircraft artillery once again appeared in front of the British. This shot was as accurate as the last time. The bright white burst of light blasted at the same time around the group, spilling dense steel rainstorms in all directions.

The body that had been ruined for a long time was hit hard again. The debris and smoke left the fuselage and dragged out a long cloud of debris behind the tail. The engine was burning, the fuselage was burning, and everything seemed to start to burn.

At this moment, the bomber fleet like a group of firebirds still insisted on maintaining a strict bombing formation, approaching the German position without looking back, and facing such a brave and tenacious enemy, the German gunners on the ground could not help but feel amazed. Respectfully.

The shells on the auto-reloading rack were pushed into the cannon again, and the shooter pressed the firing bar, waiting for the commander to issue a volley. At this moment, the British bomber fleet suddenly collapsed. Unforeseen, the three Wellington bombers in the center of the front row of the group suddenly lowered the nose and began to dive and roll, and then the other bombers each launched their maneuvers. The group spread out in all directions, just like the bee colony that was disturbed. At the moment, the strict formation immediately split.

The British bomber pilots did their best to do all kinds of dazzling evasive maneuvers. The fired bomber turned the head and flew away from the German position. The crew members began to jump out of the burning landline one after another. A snow-white umbrella flower bloomed, flying with the thick smoke.

At this time, the German talents understood that it was not the British who were brave and tenacious, but that the attack was too fast, and the fleet was stunned. When they regain their minds, of course, they will no longer foolishly wait in line to wait for the third fatal blow. This is not the face-to-face shooting of the infantry battle line. It is simply an unfair unilateral slaughter.

The commander of the British bomber fleet is an Air Force major who personally piloted the captain. Waiting for him to wake up from the stimulus of two violent blows in a row, he immediately issued an order to understand the formation, and each crew can choose to continue to complete the task or retreat according to the situation of their respective landline. .

The leader machine is at the front of the queue. The damage to the aircraft was not too serious. Compared with his struggling steering staff, his team still maintained basic maneuverability. Three Wellington dives down to a height of 500 meters in a row, and then flattens the fuselage again, and the team forms a triangle bombing formation. Under the guidance of the long machine, he completed a side-slip steering and circled the edge of the town for half a circle. Then he adjusted the course for the last time and headed towards the beach at full speed.

The three Wellingtons each carried four 250-pound bombs. The commander of the brigade decided to let the Germans on the beach taste the bitterness of the Royal Air Force, and at the same time avenge the hatred of those who had just sacrificed.

Passing through the streets covered with Nazi crimson flags, the Air Force Major looked at the roof with a huge Nazi flag in disgust, trying hard to resist the idea of ​​dropping a bomb on that thing. Villages and towns were not the primary goal. Landing equipment and trestle ships on the beach are the objects that must be destroyed. What's more, there are German anti-aircraft positions, and they must be destroyed before the next group of colleagues arrives, otherwise those who will later will repeat the mistakes of their own brigade.

This kind of anti-aircraft fire is precise and frightening. The experienced flight commander believes that any squadron-scale attack in that kind of artillery fire will be destroyed.

Wellington continued to descend, sloping across the village along the coast **** and fluttering to the beach head. The Germans had long begun to release smoke on the beach. Pieces of gray and white smoke wrapped the beach with a thick barrier and dazzling lights everywhere. The arc light, the commander never thought that he would hate the light so much, looking out of the cabin could not see what was underneath. You can't even tell where the border between the coast and the beach is.

The Royal Air Force Major was still looking forward at the probe. Suddenly, a series of metal chisels sounded in his ears, and then a cloud of blood filled the eyes, and the bright red liquid splashed on the front windshield and instrument panel. Scary graffiti was painted there. The commander once thought he was shot. He raised his hands in a panic and stroked his chest and head, but did not notice any discomfort.

He turned his face to look at his co-pilot and found that the once handsome and handsome lieutenant officer had only half of his head hanging on the neck, and the blood was like a leaking hydraulic oil. Gushing out of the cavity, facing such a terrible scene. The major felt the hair on his back explode.

Then a series of chisels sounded, sitting in the driver's seat, and the major heard clearly that the side window glass of the fuselage was shattered, and the sound of small metal bouncing in the cabin, followed by the hissing of the gunner in the rear cabin. call.

A series of flashes lighted up from the side window of the cockpit. The Air Force major looked up and saw an orange bullet chain passing across the cabin, and then another one, marking a beautiful fan surface, the whip slammed fiercely. Hitting the nacelle of the right wingman's engine, a fireball suddenly flashed, and the commander quickly closed his eyes.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw that the wingman was rolling down the fuselage and falling down, a piece of wing was broken from the position of the engine, the short circuit system was connected to the radio in the aircraft, and the long machine's headphones reverberated The miserable cry of the wingman crew members.

There are small-caliber rapid-fire anti-aircraft guns on the ground, and obviously a large number. This is a **** low-altitude hunting trap. The commander ripped open his throat and roared. He pulled the steering wheel into his arms and pushed the throttle of the two engines. He pulled the joystick to maximize the damper. At this time, he was left behind for all tasks and responsibilities. He just wanted to leave immediately from this terrible hell, he didn't want to be like the second lieutenant beside him.

"Throw away the bomb, throw away the **** bomb! This is a machine gun position, throw away the bomb, we are going to climb!"

The commander roared loudly, but received no response from the bombardier. He looked down at the passage leading to the front cabin in doubt, but saw that the transparent windshield at the bottom of the front cabin and the floor had been torn a big hole, originally The bombing aimer who was supposed to squat there disappeared with his sight. The cold wind blew into the engine room from the hole, wrapped in smoky smoke, and there were several perforations with big fists on the back door of the front machine gun tower. , The commander can imagine the scene behind the small door.

"What the hell!"

The commander raised his head again, and the machine gunner's howl had stopped. This gave the commander a horrifying guess. Perhaps he is now the only occupant alive on this plane.

Long Wellington's miraculously rushed out of the dense machine gun barrage, and the remaining wingman in the formation was planted on the beach at this time, turning into a valuable bonfire.

The commander pulled the heavy steering wheel hard. The rudder surface of the aircraft has become somewhat uncontrolled, and perhaps a few control cables were interrupted during the low-altitude raid ahead, but the commander believes that with his own experience, he should be able to continue flying for a distance, as long as the two engines are not Something went wrong. As long as he flew out of the German control area, he could choose a gentle landing on the ground. The problem now is that he has to find a way to throw away the bombs in the magazine. Otherwise, he will have to abandon the plane and parachute. This is the last option he wants to make, because it means discarding the bodies of these companions, Let them fall to ashes with the plane.

The Air Force Major opened the side window, and the cold wind blew in from the window. He looked out of the window and looked forward, but found that there was a line of navigation lights shining in red and green .

"Attention. The British fleet in front notices that this is the fourth night bomber squadron. Be careful of the German large-caliber anti-aircraft guns, turn off the navigation lights, and spread out the formation. There are also a large number of small-caliber machine guns on the ground. Try not to enter Low altitude, did you hear it?"

The commander clasped the radio microphone and shouted loudly, but he received no reply except for a piece of static noise.

"Here is..." The commander repeatedly tried several times, but the other party did not respond at all, and the bomber group swept across the commander's plane. Roaring towards the beach of St. Margaret.

"You can't just go by, you idiots!"

The captain pulled the radio microphone, he turned the steering wheel and began to turn, he was ready to catch up with the stupid nerds. Can't watch them just rush into hell.

Just as Wellington turned slowly, the commander suddenly felt that the steering wheel in his hand was light, the left aileron of the aircraft suddenly began to tremble violently, the control link of the wing was finally broken, and the aircraft turning was suddenly lost. After the control, one side of the wing sank. The fuselage began to roll, and immediately reversed. Wellington's engine screamed sharply, and the bottom of the bomber rushed upward toward the ground. With a violent explosion, a huge ball of fire slowly rose on the outskirts of Dover.

"Hello, did you see it? It's spectacular." A German sergeant lay down his telescope. He pointed to the burning fire in the distance and said to his comrades in arms.

"It looks like there is a ton of explosives. It's strange how he didn't throw the bomb."

"The order has been issued, we started to assault, follow the vanguard row, keep the distance. Gray wolf! Advance" At this time not far from the command car, the commander of the assault battery company issued an assault order.

"Where is the infantry? What about the fourteenth reconnaissance battalion?" The company chief asked the company commander by pressing the larynx.

"There are two company infantry beside the forest one kilometer in front of us, and there is a self-propelled infantry artillery platoon. The 14th Reconnaissance Battalion is gone, and they are looking for them. The regiment specially reminded us that there are some us nearby. Paratroopers must pay attention to identifying targets before firing."

"Understood, have the captains heard it? Make sure they light up their buttocks before shooting. If they are white, don't fire."

A crazy laughter echoed in the car group, and the assault gun crew members slapped the armor plate.

"Okay, everyone pay attention, gray wolf! Go forward!" The company commander put his face up hard and waved his arm forward again.

The sergeant master patted his companion's shoulder, who lowered his head and drilled back into the body of the No. 3 assault gun. A roar of engines sounded, and nine No. 3 assault guns began to accelerate slowly. They rushed down the earth slope, crossed the road, and rushed toward the British defense line in the southwest. (To be continued.)