Chapter 20: The Eyes of the Artillery

"Oh damn, those Brits are firing at us! Climb higher, climb higher!"

As black fireworks kept bursting around them, Logan suddenly turned into a chatty woman on the street corner.

Focused on piloting the aircraft, Steinfelberg didn't blindly follow his technically ignorant superior this time. Ignoring the unfamiliar expletive, he shouted, "Hold on, we're going through!"

That phrase sounded familiar to Logan, like something from a cop movie before the tech-savvy hero's grand display of skill. Though he dared not dwell on it, he gripped the handles tightly, lips sealed, enduring the strong wind rushing against his face as the plane accelerated. Passing through clouds of smoke, he coughed violently from the irritation.

"Damn... cough... this glass... cough... is horrible!"

"Just hold on a bit longer!" Steinfelberg gritted his teeth, akin to the final sprint of a runner or the relief of a long-suffering constipated person.

For a few seconds, Logan felt like he was suffocating. When his breath finally cleared, he realized the plane's speed had decreased, and the sound of explosions was fading away.

Looking around, he saw the black fireworks trailing far behind: they had passed through the Allied artillery positions.

"I don't understand why the Brits have so many anti-aircraft guns deployed here! Have they already retreated to the outskirts of Dunkirk?"

Steinfelberg glanced at him. "Actually, it's only four or five anti-aircraft guns. If you want to know why there's such powerful air defense here, just look ahead!"

In front of them, the blue that had been far on the horizon was now much closer. The winding coastline, starkly different from the mainland, had a distinct gap in the middle. White and pale yellow dots dotted the area, with several prominent smoke columns rising from the scene.

"Dunkirk!" Logan quickly grabbed the binoculars.

"Exactly, I think the reason the Brits have deployed anti-aircraft guns here is to defend against German air raids! Alright, you can contact the SS now, let them begin the first volley, with each gun firing every 5 seconds!"

Logan opened the radio, deciphering a slightly urgent male voice amid the static: "Big Bird One, calling Big Bird One!"

"Are we Big Bird One?" Logan tried to seek help from his assistant, but Steinfelberg shook his head; nobody had thought about this crucial issue before boarding.

Logan had no choice but to speak into the microphone, "Is this Diederich's unit? I'm Hans Logan, I don't know the call sign!"

There was a pause on the other end. "Yes, Lieutenant, Big Bird One is your call sign. We're ready!"

"Alright! First volley, with each gun firing every 5 seconds!" Logan shouted.

A few seconds later, the same voice said, "We've commenced firing. Keep an eye out!"

Logan quickly picked up the binoculars. From the air, the battlefield below was incredibly clear: the port's waters were calm as if glass, divided by two long breakwaters, with a narrow channel as the only connection. The ships sunk earlier resembled peculiar rocks, but they posed no significant obstacle to subsequent vessels. Inside the channel, dozens of ships were anchored or slowly moving, some even close to the beach, mingling with the crowds of people wading ashore. On the beach, countless people resembled a swarm of penguins. Farther out at sea, ships from Britain arrived in a constant stream - this was the terrifying power of a maritime nation!

It seemed that the paratrooper team dispatched to destroy the Mulberry harbors hadn't achieved significant results, or maybe... they hadn't even landed. Thinking about this, Logan felt conflicted. Could all their hard work and unbeatable luck not change the situation in Dunkirk?

Scanning the area with his binoculars, he finally found traces of shelling in the wilderness south of Dunkirk, near the highway: several dissipating smoke plumes, several hundred meters apart, posed no threat to the city center of Dunkirk!

"Too close and too far left, not even hitting the city center!" Logan shouted into the microphone. "Adjust to the farthest right point and go 2 kilometers farther and 2 kilometers to the right!"

"We can't go any farther!" came the response. "We've adjusted to the maximum elevation!"

"Can't we overload the shells?" Logan asked, thinking he sounded knowledgeable about artillery, though it might be one of the few military jargons he knew.

"Well, technically yes, but it's very dangerous and causes significant damage to the gun barrel and chamber! It's best not to do that unless absolutely necessary!" Steinfelberg interjected.

"Alright!" Logan shouted into the microphone, "Try another 2 kilometers to the right!"

After a while, the voice on the other end said, "We've fired again, keep an eye out!"

From that moment on, Logan counted seconds. When he reached 17, he suddenly saw the glow of explosions in Dunkirk, and this time, he faintly heard the whistling of the shells flying overhead.

"1... 2... 3... 4... Wow, they've nearly all reached the city!" he yelled into the microphone. "Good job, guys, you're bombarding Dunkirk! If you can get the shells a bit farther, you'll give those invincible British Navy a good slap in the face!"

This time, a different voice came through the radio, "Alright, Big Bird One, we'll do our best! Take care of yourselves!"

Logan knew it was Diederich's voice, and he felt a faint warmth in his heart.

"We won't encounter British fighters here, will we?" he asked casually.

"Given this weather... hard to say!" Steinfelberg controlled the Stork to make a slow turn in the air, avoiding getting too close to Dunkirk.

Logan's heart skipped a beat, and he hurriedly searched the airspace over the Channel. The clouds were low today, especially over the Channel, shrouded in fog. Both observation and combat visibility were significantly affected.

"Even if we do, would they be interested in such easy prey like us?" Logan tried to reassure himself.

But Steinfelberg replied sternly, "Pilots wouldn't hesitate to add another victory mark to their cockpit, even if it's just an unarmed reconnaissance plane! Softness to the enemy is irresponsibility to comrades!"

"Oh... Do we have parachutes?" Logan asked nervously.

"Well, Lieutenant, there's no need to be too nervous. We won't be here for long! Even if we do encounter British fighters, we can use our low flight altitude and speed to evade them! Don't worry!"

"Oh, okay..." Logan wanted to say more, but suddenly a voice came through the headphones:

"We've fired again, keep an eye out!"

Logan proficiently counted seconds in his mind. This time, when he reached 18, he saw a small white splash on the open sea. From the air, it looked so delicate and exquisite, quietly blooming!

"Well done, well done! Your shells hit the sea! They're just tens of meters away from the British ships!" Logan exclaimed excitedly. And just a few seconds later, he saw a second splash on the sea surface, this time, not more than 20 meters away from the nearest British ship!

Immediately after, the third shell landed near the beach, although the shrapnel was not enough to cause significant casualties, it still stirred up nearby Allied soldiers.

As the fourth shell landed and exploded on the beach, Logan shouted, "Fantastic! Guys, that shot of yours killed at least 20 Brits! The Führer will decorate you for this!"

"Alright, let them continue firing according to the current parameters, we need to go!" Steinfelberg said calmly.

"Oh? Alright!" Logan still felt somewhat unsatisfied, but if he saw the group of dark spots flying over the strait, he probably wouldn't be as composed as Steinfelberg!