Chapter 337: Let’s Go Crazy Once

Before boarding the plane, one must hurry to the toilet and completely empty one’s body of all waste. After that, it’s a long and tedious fl

Before boarding the plane, one must hurry to the toilet and completely empty one’s body of all waste. After that, it’s a long and tedious flight of several hours, curled up in a space even smaller than the inside of a submarine.

This was the battle of a strategic bomber pilot. They not only had to face all sorts of enemies like fighter planes and anti-aircraft guns, but they also had to constantly compete with their own metabolism and the tedious boredom for endurance.

One fortunate point was that whether it was Britain and the United States bombing Germany in another timeline, or Germany bombing Britain in Akado’s timeline, most of the strategic bombers’ flight time was spent over the sea. At least they did not have to be constantly on edge and could maintain a relaxed mood for most of the flight time.

But because the German air force had employed a large number of female pilots, the problem of going to the toilet had become a major issue. There were many oil barrels inside the plane to carry spare fuel. This oil could be added to the plane’s fuel tank from inside the aircraft. The remaining empty barrels naturally became the “chamber pots” for solving the problem of excretion.

And for the female gunners to go to the toilet was a bit difficult. They had to climb into the interior of the plane, cover themselves with a canvas in a corner, put a special funnel prepared for them into an empty oil barrel, and then solve their troublesome problem in a semi-squatting position. But most of the female gunners chose to give up the shameful canvas, because covering themselves with it was extremely troublesome.

This was war, full of helpless bitterness, which forced people to face some embarrassing things with a strange way of thinking. Regardless of whether they were men or women, everyone was fighting to the death for victory. Propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame had long been thrown to the wind. All that was left here was the naked and clean reality.

With a sudden brightness on the clouds on the horizon, the gunner at the tail of the plane reported what he had seen to the pilot via the intercom. “I see sunlight! The sky is about to brighten!”

“Hey, I can see Revenge 2! Navigator, our formation is holding up well,” the pilot in another plane said with a smile to the navigator beside him, having made out his neighbor flying on his side in the dim light. “Confirm immediately and see if our heading needs to be corrected. Although we are following Revenge 1, all navigators must verify the direction.”

“I am verifying the direction now! But logically, there shouldn’t be any mistake,” the navigator quickly began to mutter over the map.

On the outermost edge of the entire aircraft formation, in the bomber Revenge 43, the navigator and several gunners were searching the sky everywhere. Because according to the plan before takeoff, the outermost bombers of the entire flight formation, Revenge 19 and Revenge 43, were responsible for searching the entire sky, preparing to welcome the navy’s escort fighter formation for a rendezvous.

Time passed, minute by minute, but the expected fighter escort group did not appear. Because they had to maintain radio silence, the entire bomber group did not know why the agreed-upon naval fighters had not arrived. But now they had no choice but to maintain their original flight speed and continue to fly toward their target.

In fact, on the other side, the naval general, Lütjens, was now in a complete mess, dealing with the navy’s own problems. The four German aircraft carriers in his hands were helplessly changing course, preparing to return to the waters off the coast of the Netherlands.

Last night, the German carrier fleet had been rapidly heading south, attempting to enter the English Channel to complete this combat mission of covering the air force’s bombing. But just as Lütjens was about to enter the designated sea area, the two destroyers on the perimeter of the fleet had suddenly detected an underwater signal.

This situation had scared Lütjens silly, because if a British submarine had discovered the exact location of the main German naval force, then in a place so close to the British mainland, the British navy and air force would have many ways to leave the German navy with an unforgettable memory.

Based on the fundamental principle of not taking too much risk, Lütjens, on the one hand, had ordered the encirclement and destruction of the British submarine, and on the other, had ordered the fleet to change course. As a result, the entire fleet had been delayed for an hour before it was confirmed that the British submarine had been sunk, which could be considered as having preserved the secrecy of the entire High Seas Fleet’s operation. But at this time, the sky had already shown the first light of dawn, and Lütjens was still 40 minutes’ journey away from the planned location for launching his planes.

Lütjens was still somewhat worried about launching the planes ahead of schedule. First, he was afraid that the aircraft units would have problems due to insufficient fuel. Second, he was also afraid that the British warships would come to check on the submarine that had lost contact and would thus discover his fleet. So he had no choice but to brace himself and cancel the operational plan, and to retreat to the waters off the coast of the Netherlands to make further plans.

After flying for another ten minutes or so, Colonel Niels, the temporary frontline commander of the German bomber group in the lead, decided to continue flying toward London. Soon, the British coastline appeared before his eyes, and at this time, he was still waiting for the non-existent naval escort fighters.

Looking at the cold sweat that had broken out in the palm of his hand, Colonel Niels consulted with his navigator and then decided to continue with the mission of bombing London. He ordered the bombers to increase their altitude, to control their flight altitude at 6,000 meters, and to be ready to engage any British interceptor fighters that might appear.

“Let’s go crazy once! Even if we fail, the Führer can still lead our Reich to victory!” Colonel Niels said firmly, staring at the approaching British coastline. “And I believe that I am flying the most advanced aircraft in the world. The British have no planes that can defeat us!”

Soon, the German Butcher bomber group, which was carrying out Operation Samsara, was directly over British land territory. These planes, with their engines roaring, flew over swathes of British buildings and farmland, heading toward their final target, London.

An Englishman stood at the door of his house, holding a glass of milk and looking up at the dark mass of planes flying over his head. By his leg, two little boys were making a buzzing sound with their mouths, simulating the engine of a plane, and were running around him with their arms outstretched. Depending on the direction they were running, their two arms would also change their height to simulate the movement of a plane.

The Englishman stared at the sky with a frown, then looked into the distance and said to himself, “Judging by the altitude, this plane should be at least 18 meters long. It’s really big. Do we have this kind of plane in Britain?”

Of course not. Britain’s main bomber at this time was still the Wellington, which was smaller than Germany’s medium bomber, the Do-217. How could it compare to the German army’s most advanced four-engine heavy strategic bomber, the Butcher?

The German planes flew through British airspace as if it were unmanned. They flew all the way to London without any fighters coming to intercept them. Many of the citizens along the way saw these behemoths, but most of them mistook these planes for units of the Royal Air Force. They couldn’t be blamed for thinking so. After all, the British mainland had rarely been visited by enemy aircraft up to now.

And in 1938, it seemed that the radar stations that had given the Germans such a headache had not yet been completed. The Hurricane fighter, whose service had been delayed by the interference and sabotage of German spies, had just entered service and had not yet formed an effective fighting force. Now everything seemed to be on the side of the German strategic bomber units. They were now almost invincible.

At about 6:15 in the morning, the German bombers appeared near London in the light of the sun. The roar of their engines came from afar. The pigeons in the square, startled, scattered and flew away. Many of the early-rising residents of the London suburbs squinted their eyes and looked at the sky, facing the sun. After all, for a formation of aircraft of such a large scale to appear near London was definitely not a common occurrence.

The airfields from which bombers could take off to bomb the British mainland were now basically still under the control of the British and French armies. Although the war situation in western Belgium and northwestern France was very bad, it was far from the point where the German Air Force could arbitrarily take off with bombers and cross the airspace for a long-distance bombing raid.

So at this time, the air defense observation posts on the British mainland were mostly rather slack. The commanders of many air defense positions were not in their own barracks, and more of the soldiers in the observation posts were sleeping with their guns in their arms.

It wasn’t until the German planes had flown to the outskirts of London that a call was finally made to the air defense force’s command post, hoping to confirm whether those planes were Britain’s own bombers. Soon, the piercing sound of the air raid siren was sounded over the airfields of the Royal Air Force. Twenty of the most advanced Hurricane fighters, which had just been equipped to the units, were scrambled to take off, hoping to shoot down these German invaders before they entered London.

The fighter pilots scrambled into their fighters, started their engines, and waited for further orders from the control tower. One after another, the Hurricane fighters began to take off in sequence. The order they had received was very simple: “Defend London.”

Of course, the Germans also felt the hospitable side of the British people. As they entered the center of London, the anti-aircraft guns finally roared to life, but after firing two shots, they were passed over by the German bomber group and had no more firing angle.

“The British are firing back! Break radio silence!” Colonel Niels shouted loudly, holding the radio handset, giving his first command of the day. “All planes, begin your final check of the bombsights!”

“Check complete!” a short while later, reports came in one by one from the headsets.

“Descend to an altitude of 5,000 meters!” Niels commanded with a grin. “All bombers, open your bomb bays!”

As his voice fell, the belly of his plane opened with a mechanical “creak,” revealing the bombs hanging inside. And around this plane, one after another, the Butcher bombers opened their own bomb bays.

“Bombs away!” Niels shouted.

“Click!” A soft metallic sound was heard in the cabin. The plane shuddered slightly. A bomb had been released from the plane and was flying toward the ground…