Chapter 37: Burning Bridges and Sinking Ships

After the four Bristol Beaufort light bombers flew away, it was not even a quarter of an hour before the second wave of British aircraft appeared on the horizon. They were flying in from the northwest, likely taking off from an airfield near Portsmouth.

"It's torpedo bombers! Damn it! We're in big trouble this time!" Stephenberg sighed, a rare display of panic for Logan to witness.

"What difference does it make if they're torpedo bombers?" In Logan's novice mind, the most formidable naval attack aircraft of World War II seemed to be dive bombers rather than torpedo bombers. He particularly remembered a decisive moment in the Battle of Midway: when American dive bombers detonated the bombs on the decks of Japanese carriers, ultimately turning the tide of the Pacific War. Furthermore, in this era, large warships generally emphasized underwater defense, and it was almost impossible for a single torpedo to sink a battleship—Bismarck could attest to that!

"The torpedo bombers themselves are not the issue; the problem is that our current speed is only... 12 knots!" Stephenberg obtained the speed figure from Falkenberg. Having the two "Bergs" together was an ideal supplement for Logan, who was a complete novice in terms of weaponry.

"We've lost 3 knots of speed due to the leaks in the lower compartments!" Falkenberg explained simply.

"So, you mean... our slow speed makes us vulnerable to torpedoes, and our current speed is very dangerous?" Logan maintained his characteristic calmness: a heavy bomb or an aerial torpedo would be equally fatal for this minesweeper, wouldn't they?

"That's right!" the two "Bergs" replied in unison.

Looking out the porthole, Logan saw that the vast smoke cloud generated by the previous release of hot smoke was far behind them. Logan had intended to lay down smoke screens in advance, but Falkenberg stopped him.

"Smoke screens would actually favor the torpedo bombers' attack. Once they pass through the smoke and drop their torpedoes from two hundred meters away, we won't have a chance to evade!"

"So what do we do?" Logan thought to himself: surely they couldn't just sit and wait for their doom!

"We can only rely on luck!"

Falkenberg looked helpless. There's a saying: a clever woman may not be able to cook without rice. If he were commanding a cruiser, he could counter enemy bombing attacks with speed and firepower. But for a minesweeper like this, lacking both speed and firepower, facing successive attacks from enemy bomber squadrons in broad daylight, their fate was truly hanging by a thread!

At this moment, the most reluctant person was Logan, who seemed the calmest. This situation reminded him of "Journey to the West," where after overcoming countless hardships, the Tang monk and his disciples discovered they had obtained a book without words, a profound disappointment!

The German Luftwaffe was not going to appear in the form of a Bodhisattva. Logan lit a cigarette, walked to the rear bridge with a heavy heart, where the squadron of torpedo bombers was rapidly approaching. It was now clear that their number had doubled compared to the previous bombers. Almost the entire squadron had come out, it seemed that the British already knew that the radar equipment at Cape Calvados had been "stolen," and in order to keep this critical secret, sinking this minesweeper was the easiest way.

If Logan were the British commander, he might have sent out all the bombers he had at this point!

In despair, even more despairing news came from the lookout post: two fast-moving vessels were spotted on the northern horizon.

Even Logan could figure out that there was no way they could escape back to France with their current speed. As the saying goes, "sorrow flows like a river!"

"Tell Kehren to run over here!" Logan was furious, completely furious, and this voice made the paratroopers around the quadruple anti-aircraft machine gun surprised and look up.

The ship's radio equipment was in the compartment below the bridge. In less than a minute, Kehren Molt came running.

"Send a clear text message for me: I am Hans Logan, commander of Operation Stiletto. We have successfully carried out a surprise attack, obtained the enemy's critical equipment, and transported it on board. Such a great situation, yet the German Air Force did not send fighters for cover, which is truly chilling. Now, with our efforts in vain, long live the Empire! Long live the Luftwaffe Field Marshal!" Logan said in one breath.

Kehren quickly recorded with a pencil on paper, but when it came to the last sentence, he stopped, "Captain, this..."

"Send it exactly as it is!" Logan's voice was as hard as iron.

"But..." Kehren obviously couldn't imagine the consequences after sending out this telegram.

Logan reached out his right hand and patted Kehren's left shoulder, "Since we are facing disaster today, why not complain about the injustice we have suffered! If it weren't for someone harboring dirty and contemptible thoughts, we should have been the victors! As for what rewards our Luftwaffe Field Marshal will receive after this telegram is sent, it's not for us to worry about! Perhaps, we will spend the rest of our lives in a British prisoner of war camp, or... we may not even see the sunset today!"

Kehren was stunned for two seconds before tremblingly writing down the last line on the paper.

Logan withdrew his right hand and saluted him exceptionally seriously, "Thank you, Kehren, thank you for your efforts. You are a competent officer! It's an honor to know you!"

Kehren hesitated for a moment, then quickly saluted back, but before he could say anything, Logan had already walked away from him.

Back in the helm room, Logan shook hands one by one with Stephenberg, Falkenberg, and Scherme, thanking them for their support and efforts, expressing admiration for their great camaraderie.

While the British torpedo bombers had not yet initiated their attack, Logan took another turn on the deck, bidding farewell to every paratrooper or submarine crew member who had followed him. The atmosphere, which was both sad and extremely touching, would be remembered for a lifetime by many.

"For the honor of the Empire, let's give it our all!" Logan shouted with raised arms, removing the British military uniform he was wearing on the outside, revealing his deep gray paratrooper uniform. This heroic sentiment quickly infected everyone around him. They all took off their disguises, revealing their true faces as German soldiers.

Perhaps it was precisely because of this determined spirit that they were favored by the goddess of luck. In the next ten minutes or so, Logan and his soldiers experienced a true "stroke of luck": three times torpedoes swished past the ship's side, and once, when everyone was in despair, a torpedo hit the hull with a dull thud—it turned out to be a dud!

Eight torpedoes couldn't sink a minesweeper, and the small size of the target could be considered one factor. Faced with such a result, the British pilots were undoubtedly extremely frustrated. But amidst their celebration, Logan and his men still faced a huge challenge: two British ships were rapidly approaching. After identification, one was an old V/W-class destroyer, and the other was a J-class destroyer just commissioned before the war. The gray-white hull looked like an elegant and agile dolphin, and with its configuration of three 120mm twin-gun turrets, two quintuple 533mm torpedo tubes, and a maximum speed of 36 knots, it exceeded old destroyers in every aspect. It's no exaggeration to say that this type of destroyer was capable of confronting most light cruisers in service at the time!