Chapter 339: The Interception Battle

“That was thrilling!” Colonel Niels witnessed the entire bombing process from the observation window. Hundreds of bombs were dropped from th

“That was thrilling!” Colonel Niels witnessed the entire bombing process from the observation window. Hundreds of bombs were dropped from the planes, then accelerated in freefall toward the ground, and then blossomed into flowers of fire on the ancient streets of the ancient city of London.

This operation had no real practical effect, because although the city of London had a long history and was the core of Britain, it did not have many heavy industrial targets. Bombing here had almost no effect on destroying the British army’s war potential. The meaning of bombing here was only one: to intimidate the British high command and to make them remember what a dangerous thing it was to assassinate the German Führer.

“Gentlemen, bombs away! Those Englishmen should remember us now! Now, we begin our return flight!” Niels commanded with a hearty laugh into the intercom. “All planes, begin to accelerate and climb. Altitude 9,000 meters.”

The buzzing sound grew louder and louder. The engines of the Butcher bombers began to make a pleasant sound. The massive strategic bombers began to slowly ascend, and a short while later, they had crossed above the cloud layer and were flying toward their intended route. If nothing unexpected happened, they only had to fly for about an hour before they could see the air force’s fighter groups and would be completely back in a safe zone.

“All gunners, maintain your alert! We need to fly on our own for about an hour before we meet our reinforcements. During this time, we can only rely on ourselves!” Niels said loudly, holding the intercom.

With his voice, the British anti-aircraft gun positions began to return fire. The shells were fired into the sky as if they were free. Most were large-caliber anti-aircraft guns, and their accuracy and density were not high. It seemed that the British home defense anti-aircraft fire had not yet fully reacted.

But good luck was not always with this strategic bomber unit led by Colonel Niels. Just a few minutes later, they encountered their first real challenge of this operation.

“Colonel Niels! Colonel Niels! A British fighter unit has appeared behind us! They are climbing! They are climbing!” a plane flying on the perimeter reported what it had seen.

Colonel Niels looked at the altimeter. They had already flown to a high altitude of about 8,000 meters. According to the information provided by the intelligence department, apart from a few smuggled Me-109C modified fighters, it seemed that Britain had no other fighters that could fly to an altitude of about 8,000 meters.

But the current situation was that these fighters had already climbed to a high altitude of about 8,000 meters, and it seemed that these new British fighters could climb even higher.

Fortunately, these British fighters were in pursuit, so it would obviously take some effort to close the distance. So Colonel Niels calmly arranged the formation of the bomber group and confirmed everyone’s defensive tasks. He then ordered the bomber group to continue to climb, to climb to an altitude of 9,000 meters to see what the British fighters’ reaction would be.

Niels suddenly discovered that the other countries of the world were not standing still either. Their speed of development was not much slower than Germany’s. When Germany had brought out its long-range strategic bombers, Britain had also brought out fighters that could fly to such a high altitude for combat. It seemed that in the future, bombing Britain would not be an easy matter.

Soon, the accelerating Butcher bomber group had raised its altitude to 9,000 meters, while the British fighters behind them seemed to have reached their flight ceiling. They maintained an altitude of about 8,700 meters and approached the rear bottom of the Butcher bombers.

“Rat-tat! Rat-tat!” The cannon at the tail of a Butcher bomber opened fire. Compared to a fighter plane, these freely rotating cannons were clearly more flexible. At least in a tail-chasing attack, the speed advantage of a fighter was compressed to a minimum, which made it easier to be locked on and aimed at.

The British fighter pilots were clearly also veterans. They knew that if they were to attack by getting on the tail, they would be at a disadvantage. Because of the problems with their engines, the current maximum flight altitude of the Hurricane fighter was 9,600 meters, and at an altitude close to 9,000 meters, its flight performance was already affected. So their tactic was to first approach the target from below, then attack by climbing upwards like a fish leaping out of the water, and then to descend and return.

But it was clear that the lower part was also a key area of the Butcher’s defensive fire. There was a twin-barreled 30mm cannon operated by a female gunner there. So from the moment these British planes entered the firing range, the counter-attack of the German strategic bombers began.

If the previous air force fighter combat was a duel between knights, then the current fighter assault on a bomber formation was a bloody and tragic positional battle. There were no more skills to speak of here. It had purely become a cruel competition of firepower between the two sides.

The German side relied on the 30mm cannons installed on the tail and belly, while the British pilots were equipped with 7.7mm machine guns. But in terms of fire density, the British fighters had a slight advantage, because each Hurricane fighter was equipped with eight 7.7mm machine guns.

These Germanic girls who served on the bombers, they turned their turrets, aimed at their targets, and then squeezed the triggers, firing at the approaching British fighters. Unlike directly attacking soldiers, when attacking non-human metal planes, these female gunners were very competent. They had no mental pressure at all. All they had to do was to pull the trigger and then watch as the other side trailed a long black smoke and fell.

Of course, accidents would also happen, for example, at this very moment. In the turret under the belly of a Butcher bomber, a female pilot was aiming at a Hurricane fighter. Soon, she squeezed the trigger and fired a burst of shells.

That plane was still in the distance, not yet ready to climb and attack, so its entire cockpit was facing the Butcher bomber above. And so this German female gunner saw her bullets very coincidentally hit the cockpit of that plane, turning the pilot inside into mincemeat.

The cannon shells had easily shattered the plexiglass canopy of that plane, and then had easily shattered the pilot inside, and then had pierced the bottom of the plane, causing the plane to fall with a trail of smoke. The crimson bloodstains on the shattered canopy were a shocking sight.

“Retch! Retch!” Seeing the tragic state of the other side after she had hit it, this female gunner began to vomit violently. This was her first sortie, and naturally also the first time she had killed someone in her life. The intense discomfort made her forget to fire, and the British pilots seemed to have finally found the only weakness in this German bomber formation.

The Hurricane fighters, like flies that had smelled blood, began to pounce on this temporarily silenced area, and the distance between the two sides was also suddenly narrowed considerably. The British air force’s 7.7mm machine guns began to show their power. A row of holes was shot in the fuselage of this German bomber whose belly guns were silent.

“We’ve been hit! We’ve been hit! Someone’s wounded!” a German gunner who was preparing to open fire with his 13mm machine gun from the side shouted. Because beside him, the gunner on the other side had been hit by a bullet and was screaming.

“No response from the cannon below us! No response from the cannon below us!” the navigator in the co-pilot’s seat said loudly after confirming twice. “Waist gunner, you go and see what’s wrong with the shooter in the belly!”

“My God! Keep climbing! We need cover! Revenge 35 needs cover! We need to climb! Please approve our climb!” the pilot shouted. A crisp sound was heard on the armored steel plate on his left. He was so scared that he immediately requested cover and began to make the plane climb higher.

“Fill the gap left by Revenge 35! Maintain formation! We have already entered the English Channel! Hold on for a little longer!” Niels said, frowning as he approved Revenge 35’s request. “What happened just now? Why didn’t you return fire?”

“Damn it! How can the British fighters fly to an altitude of 9,000 meters? This is impossible!” a gunner on the bomber Revenge 35 complained as he crawled through the narrow passage, looking at the bullet holes in some places. “I hope we don’t get hit again! I don’t want to fall from such a high altitude!”

He muttered as he crawled forward, all the way to a small hatch on the belly of the plane. He then pulled open this small door. The cold wind immediately rushed in, blowing so hard that he couldn’t open his eyes. He had to quickly close the hatch and then tighten the closing knob.

He put on his goggles, then wrapped his leather jacket tighter, and only then did he twist the knob and open the hatch again, and then carefully looked at the situation inside.

The entire turret was riddled with machine-gun holes. In some places, because it could not withstand the destructive force of the airflow, it had already shattered into holes the size of a palm. The vomiting female gunner had been shot in the chest by a machine gun. Her whole body, because it was fixed by the safety belt, was still hanging in the seat, but because she was already dead, her limbs were swaying back and forth with the airflow.

Because of the violent airflow, the entire turret was covered in bloodstains. The sight was enough to make one feel nauseous and want to vomit. The gunner who had come to check quickly closed this small hatch again, blocking the cold wind that was rushing in.

He crawled back with a cold face, no longer speaking. This was the first time he had seen a corpse with its lungs pierced by a machine gun. This was the first time he had seen a turret full of blood. This was the first time he had seen a woman die so tragically.

By the time he had returned to his own position and had put the headset on his ears, he found that his hands were still trembling. Pressing the switch on the intercom, he suppressed the urge to vomit and said, “The belly turret has been destroyed. Belina is dead.”