My Third Empire

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"We have found the airport! They are taking off!" A pilot reported his findings on the phone.

"Harland, you are protecting us at high altitudes. We are starting to attack." An Air Force commander assigned the task to the two-seater commander Stuka bomber.

"There is no problem on the fighter side, you can start attacking. The four combat opportunities follow your formation, and the rest of the combat opportunities and I climb up to find the target." Harland's voice came from the headphones.

Soon, most of the fw-190 fighters began to climb, and the Stuka dive bomber began to dive. A yellow identification symbol was painted on the nose of the aircraft, and the fw-190 fighter jet with a cute Mickey Mouse pattern painted under the cockpit was very conspicuous in the sun.

"Keep in formation, divided into four-finger combat formations, cover each other, and guard the entire airspace." As he climbed, Harland assigned tasks. The German pilots, who had already become elite warriors, quickly completed the adjustment. Soon they flew to the height of the clouds. These planes made a buzzing engine sound, and the climb was both skilled and breathtaking.

Today's weather is very clear, it can be said to be almost cloudless, which is a good day for the German Air Force. They like to find opponents at a long distance, then dive to attack with ease, use super high speed and good high-speed fighting ability to disintegrate opponents instantly.

"No. 07, your formation is responsible for the airspace on the left. No. 09, your formation is on the right." Harland changed the plane to a level flight, and then looked at the distance: "You guys follow me, responsible for the most dangerous ahead The place."

"07 understand!" "09 understand!" "The wingman obeyed!" There was a voice of answer in the headphones.

...

At low altitudes, the Stuka bomber has begun to attack the Belgian Air Force's airport. At the height of the clouds, one Stukka dive bomber after another seemed to find the food vulture, hovering down.

Following the anti-aircraft gun positions around the airport, they finally realized their dangerous situation and began a chaotic counterattack. Stuttgar swooped down with the gunfire, making a special sound of the kind of stern wing cut through the airflow. The bombs were dropped one after another, and directly hit the open anti-aircraft positions. For a time, the explosion was full of smoke, and the crying and the command were in a mess.

In the deafening roar of the engine, the pilot of the French Air Force checked the instrument for the last time. The ground crew was standing directly in front of them and waving their hands to signal them to take off quickly, so the pilot tried to start the aircraft, adjusted the radio station to channel 4, and waited for the command post to talk.

"Fighter 02, communication channel 4, command: direction 150, climb angle 25 degrees, please answer." Anxious confirmation sound from the ground tower came from the headset. The surrounding anti-aircraft artillery positions had fired, but then they were surrounded by those The German plane was killed. The bombs dropped by these planes were very precise, and did not appear panic because of the anti-aircraft artillery counterattack.

On the radio, the commander of the French air force stationed in Belgium is madly ordering his plane to take off. But looking at the Luftwaffe aircraft in the sky, he knew that this dying struggle seemed to have no effect. But always try it, otherwise the hundreds of fighters and bombers parked here will be destroyed. The French air force commander felt cold sweat in his palm when he thought of this frustrating result, which might become a victory or defeat for the entire local battle.

"This is 02 fighter, communication channel 4, direction 150, climb angle 25." The French pilot replied mechanically.

Grabbing the radio, the feeling of trembling can even be heard in the sound of the ground tower: "Understood! The wind speed is normal, the runway is cleaned up, and you can take off at any time. Hurry up!"

"Understood. I'm taking off!" The pilot replied while accelerating the plane.

"Good luck to you." The tower said at the end.

The French fighter began to glide slowly on the runway, but at this time a German Stuttgar swooped down with a bullet fire, everyone saw the huge bomb hanging on the belly of the Stuttgart was thrown out of the plane by the projectile The body, and several small bombs under the wing left the plane at about the same time.

"Boom!" After a loud noise, a huge crater of more than ten meters in diameter was blown out on the airport runway. The French fighter that wanted to take off was overturned on the ground because of the huge explosion shock wave, and the engine was emitting black smoke. , The wheels under the wing are still spinning weakly.

The French ground crew on the ground hurried over to rescue the pilot, but found that the entire flight cabin had been crushed by the weight of the aircraft itself, and the glass was covered with blood stains. It seemed that the pilot inside was also very fierce. Before they approached the plane, the black smoked engine burned, and everyone had to retreat to avoid the secondary explosion caused by the fuel explosion in the plane.

Above the sky, the attacking German aircraft turned a somersault in the sky and walked away, leaving a group of French pilots looking up helplessly into the sky.

"Continue to drop bombs! Destroy those hangars." The entire burning Belgian airport was seen from the cabin. The commander of the German Stuttgart bomber group simply marked on the map to indicate the location of the destroyed airport, and then Continue to order: "A plane without a bomb, use a cannon to fire at all the targets worth attacking. You are welcome."

"Understood!" Some pilots answered loudly in the headset.

With this answer, some bombers that pulled up to regain their altitude dived again and began violently shooting some high-value targets such as anti-aircraft positions and oil depots. The roar of the engine was like a howling of the devil, which scared the French and the Belgian defenders on the ground.

Soon there were two more French planes ready to take off, this time they were much smarter, using those aircraft that were hit and the smoke from the equipment to try to escape the German plane's vision and take off secretly.

But their luck was really not good. While they were taxiing to take off, they collided with the second Postuca dive bomber that was diving. Three Stucks made a strange noise and flipped straight down from the sky. Once again, they dropped the bomb exactly where they needed to attack. The two planes were directly hit by the bomb and turned into a sea of ​​fire. The debris formed by the tragic explosion even hit the fuselage of the German Stuttgart bomber, making a slight clang.

"Don't let the pilots take off again! It's too late! Take them to the bunker to take refuge!" On the command tower, the French officer ordered aloud: "Call the surrounding airports to remind them that we have been violently attacked by the German Air Force! "

"Evacuate! Hurry ..." Another officer was sweating anxiously.

And beside him, a desperate expression on the face of a sergeant answering the phone: "Hey? This is the airport? What? The airport on your side was also attacked? Loud! Hey?"

As soon as he dropped the phone, the other rang again. He had to pick up another handset: "What? Do you need air support? Sorry! There can be no support! By yourself."

However, on top of the invisible roof of this command tower, three kilometers above the sky, three Stuka bombers began to slide side by side and entered their ideal attack position.

The 20 mm caliber cannons on the two Stuka wings sprayed the tongue of fire, and the tracer projected a dazzling light path in the daytime and flew towards the unlucky target on the ground. An aircraft parked next to the control tower was hit by a cannon, and it instantly broke apart and was paralyzed there.

A fuel tanker was hit by a cannon, and a fire ignited in an instant. The fuel inside burst out, and a thick black smoke came out. A dozen French ground crews turned into burning firemen, struggling with painful twists. Around them, their companions who want to rescue them are helpless.

The pilot of the Stuttgart bomber who was responsible for the main attack pushed the joystick and the aircraft began to dive. In front of his plane, the two Stuttgars responsible for the cover had begun to pull up. He adjusted the joystick slightly, and pointed the plane's nose at the airport control tower he wanted to attack.

Adjusted again, on the dashboard in the cabin in front of him, a crosshair in the center of an optical sight aimed at the target. The huge dive made his whole body seem to be pressed on his seat, but he still concentrated. Ignored the shells and bullets flying around his plane.

Suddenly he pressed the switch and dropped the bombshell. The plane fluttered slightly, the speed seemed to be faster, and the response of the joystick was suddenly more sensitive. He knew that the bomb had left the plane and flew towards the target. So he suddenly pulled the joystick, the speed of the whole plane suddenly slowed down, and his whole person was pushed into the seat belt by a huge inertia, and the internal organs squeezed the stomach, but this feeling was very enjoyable for him.

So he yelled and pulled up the aircraft, and his aircraft responded to him with the most sensitive sense of maneuver. After suddenly reducing the speed, the aircraft began to raise its head quickly, and the rushing land began to extend to the distance, and then seemed to The sky that was invisible for a long time appeared again in front of my eyes.

The bomb struck the control tower accurately, and the explosion destroyed the building in an instant. Everyone inside was not spared and was torn to pieces in an instant. With the explosion and collapse of this tower, the dense smoke rising from the entire airport became denser. The planes on the ground exploded one after another. This airport, like dozens of other French front-line airports, was completely destroyed by the Luftwaffe.

High in the air, looking at the airport under the smoke, Harland snorted. Then look at the sky ahead, where a dozen small black spots are approaching rapidly.

"Guys! Our life is here." Harland's plane had begun to accelerate: "Let the French guys remember that even if they fly, they must be beaten."

Behind his plane, the wingman accelerated. Then the third fw-190, the fourth, the fifth ...