Chapter 5: A Man's Decision

Under the dim starlight and the sky filled with floating clouds, two clumsy, slow, and "environmentally friendly" Junkers Ju-52 aircraft were flying along a direction almost parallel to the northeastern coast of France. The engines at the front and on the wings of the aircraft were emitting a noisy buzz incessantly. Fortunately, in this era, there were no environmental protection laws or Greenpeace organizations, allowing the "aunties" to fly low without restraint. Behind them, two DFS 230 light assault gliders, towed by steel cables, resembled two giant black kites, but in such a dark environment, flying kites seemed to lack any enjoyment.

On one of the "Trojan Horses from the Sky," the stifling air made it difficult to breathe, with ten people crowded together wearing yellow life jackets. Upon closer inspection, they were all dressed in full British military uniforms, complete with insignia, badges, and markings, and armed with Lee-Enfield Mk IV rifles, Bren light machine guns, and Webley-Scott revolvers, all of which were standard issue.

Sitting in the copilot's seat of the glider was a young man wearing the insignia of a British Army lieutenant colonel. The faint starlight illuminated his youthful and handsome face, and his deep blue eyes seemed so profound. Although there was a white bandage wrapped around his forehead, it instead gave off an aura of courageous perseverance.

"Lieutenant Logan, we're ten minutes away from detachment!"

The driver, wearing a boat-shaped military cap, turned his head and reminded in German with a Southern accent.

Ahead of the glider, the "auntie" responsible for towing was signaling with her rear end emitting light.

After a moment's hesitation, the young Air Force lieutenant came to his senses. He nodded at the unfamiliar face and then glanced at the group of tough paratroopers in the cabin, still feeling a sense of surrealism. Just a few days ago, the unlucky kid lying in a field hospital was now commanding a small but elite force: including the glider pilots, there were a total of 8 officers and 32 soldiers participating in the operation. Twenty men were to land near Dunkirk in two gliders, while another twenty were to be sent to Dover in the same manner.

According to historical records, on May 27th, the British evacuated 7,669 troops from Dunkirk by sea, while the vast majority of the nearly 400,000 Allied troops were still waiting for evacuation near Dunkirk.

Ten minutes could sometimes feel very long, and sometimes it seemed like just a blink of an eye.

"Lieutenant, we have reached the designated detachment area!"

Tobias Fast, a German Air Force sergeant and glider pilot, was agile and quick-witted. Whenever he spoke, it seemed as if he was quietly observing the other's reactions.

Logan glanced at his watch using the small flashlight he carried. It was still three minutes before twelve. The Germans' consistent efficiency had ensured that the operation had been strictly adhering to the schedule so far, but the uncertainty would suddenly increase from now on, making it impossible for even the most astute commander to predict what would happen in an hour—of course, unless the ancestors of the octopus also had precognition abilities, that would be another matter!

"Action!"

Logan finally made a decision, but Sergeant Tobias hesitated, "Wait... Lieutenant! Look!"

In front of the glider, the "auntie's rear end" started flashing again, but this kind of signal was not something the unlucky kid Logan could understand.

The dedicated German sergeant read, "Command from headquarters... Operation Potassium Cyanide... Abort! Gliders... Return!"

Logan was stunned, various speculations flashed through his mind. Had the German ground forces broken through the Allied lines? Had the Fuhrer changed his mind? Or was Stundent having second thoughts? Or...

Once twelve o'clock struck, the calendar would flip to May 28th, 1940, and hundreds of thousands of Allied soldiers would be evacuated every hour. Was he going to waste the opportunity he had fought so hard for?

At that moment, Logan remembered a sentence his ex-girlfriend had said: A man who wants to accomplish great things should have and stick to his own judgment. In other words, his approach was too gentle, lacking in masculine assertiveness.

When the familiar yet detested face came to mind, his heart suddenly felt like it was being twisted by a knife. Was her leaving meant to find a real man? Was that guy, with his slender figure and elegant gestures, better than himself in this regard?

"Rubbish! Rubbish! Rubbish!" he exclaimed internally. "So what if he has a Chevrolet sports car? Being flashy doesn't make him a transformer! If it comes to a race, my BMW K1300S 'road warrior' is just as good!"

"Cast off!" 

"Huh? Lieutenant?"

"Cast off!" Logan repeated the command with exceptional determination.

There was a movable hook in front of the dfs230 light assault glider. After reaching the uncoupling zone, both the towing aircraft and the glider would usually uncouple to avoid the long and sturdy cable causing any fatal impact during landing.

The sergeant hesitated for a moment but eventually pulled the lever.

To survive in such turbulent times, one needed a group of trustworthy partners and loyal assistants—Logan summarized this as a hard truth from his painful memories.

The slight swaying was hardly noticeable. From this moment on, the glider not only detached from the "auntie's" tug, but also almost eliminated the possibility of flying directly back to the German-occupied area.

Logan glanced at the paratroopers in the rear compartment. There was no sign of suspicion. Apparently, their conversation with the driver had not reached their ears.

"We only received the command after uncoupling, understand?" He whispered to the air force sergeant beside him.

Tobias, with his small, curly blonde hair, looked at Logan blankly for two seconds. There seemed to be a hint of confusion in his eyes, but he nodded slightly.

"For victory!" Logan added quietly. While a typical German soldier might say "for the empire," "for the Führer," or "for Germany" at this point, he had neither adopted nor developed such a habit.

"Look, lieutenant, they're coming down too!" After a moment, Tobias pointed to the upper right front.

Logan looked up and, although the view in the night sky was poor, at a few hundred meters away, he could still roughly distinguish that another glider had pulled a considerable distance away from the "auntie" responsible for towing. The steel cable was evidently no longer serving any purpose.

"Well done!" Logan thought to himself. Although he was unsure if these paratroopers had not received new orders or were just following the lead of the action commander, their addition not only doubled the number of operatives but also significantly boosted morale and the likelihood of the plan's success—although some senior staff at the Air Force Headquarters viewed such actions as akin to moths flying into the flame, taking risks was definitely a shortcut to standing out in a hierarchical military.

After about ten minutes, the glider was ready to land on the sea. At this point, Logan could do nothing but hold onto the nearby handgrip tightly. Fortunately, Tobias was a bold and meticulous guy. After two "skimming over the water" maneuvers, he seized the moment to gently push the nose down. Soon after, there was a rather violent shaking. When the shaking subsided, the lightly modified dfs230 light assault glider had landed steadily on the sea surface.