Chapter 41: The Glint of a Clumsy Bird

Within three days, bring down the once-mighty Royal Navy of the British Empire?

Before September 9, 1940, nobody in the German Navy entertained such a notion, not even the dozens of German staff officers involved in planning "Operation Sea God," most of whom held a skeptical or even hostile attitude. Germany's ability to sweep through Western Europe was attributed to its formidable air force and army, while its navy was regarded as a crippled limb, unable to bear the weight.

In this world, perhaps only two individuals dared to dream such a grandiose dream.

One was Hans Lohmann, the initiator of the plan; the other was Adolf Hitler, the approver of the plan.

What's somewhat perplexing is that neither of these two individuals was well-versed in aerial or naval warfare; in the eyes of their staff officers, they could even be described as "laymen." However, if there was one common trait between them, it was perhaps their "reckless adventurous spirit," driven by a wartime logic that ordinary minds couldn't fathom.

Throughout the entire plan, Lohmann systematically pressed and continued to press the nerves and thoughts of the opponent with one unexpected step after another, making them always appear as tightly wound springs, only to suddenly collapse at some point.

From the landing on White Island, to the virtual and actual landings of the landing fleet, and then to the landing at Le Havre, the forces committed to each battle never exceeded 30,000 men—utterly inconspicuous to German commanders accustomed to sweeping armies.

Tasting a feast at the cost of mere appetizers, Lohmann, not being a chef, nevertheless managed to captivate everyone's appetite.

The most disheartened by this feast were still the British.

After finishing the thick soup and taking down the main course, it was time for dessert.

As German officers and soldiers busied themselves clearing the debris from Cardiff Airport, a bustling scene of hundreds of aircraft roaring to life once again unfolded at German airfields in locations like Cherbourg Peninsula, Le Havre, Valognes, and Montebourg. One hundred and seven Bf-110s belonging to eight air squadrons were already fueled up and taking off under the guidance of ground crews. Following them, within the next two hours, would be 53 Ju-88s carrying aerial bombs from four squadrons and 41 He-111s carrying aerial torpedoes from three squadrons. However, unlike previous mass takeoffs, at each airfield, except for a few Bf-109s performing combat air patrol missions, there were hardly any large formations of these aircraft grouping together in the sky. This also meant that the previously much-criticized Bf-110C heavy fighters would shoulder the escort duty alone—a role where its long-range and firepower were its greatest advantages over the Bf-109!

At 9:20 AM, the first wave of heavy fighter formations flew magnificently over the western entrance of the English Channel. Their mission was to locate British aircraft carriers and, if possible, neutralize their aerial defenses. To conserve fuel, these fighters still opted to fly over the Cornwall Peninsula, maintaining altitudes above 4,000 meters. Nonetheless, the anti-aircraft guns deployed in ports like Plymouth were incessantly firing from the outset. If not for their weighty task, German pilots would have eagerly descended to give them a pounding!

"Hey, buddy. Do you think if we keep flying these clumsy birds, we could become ace pilots in the air force?"

The long flight had only just begun, and in the face of the explosions coming from low altitude, 24-year-old Imperial Air Force Lieutenant William von Bölling calmly chatted with his 4-month-younger partner, Kammler, through the aircraft's communication system. Although the era of imperial power in the German Empire had long passed, the noble character inherited from the Prussian era had not declined in today's Germany. In the defense forces, a considerable proportion of the command echelon consisted of descendants of old nobility and traditional military families, and the higher the rank, the greater the proportion!

Although this Imperial Air Force captain shared the same name as Emperor William II of Germany, he came from a declining aristocratic family. Nevertheless, he received a good education from a young age and joined the German army at the age of 19. He transferred to the air force from the army in 1939. By general standards, as long as he could accumulate more combat achievements, his future development would be smoother than that of officers from ordinary backgrounds!

"You might have a chance, but as for me... do you think I could shoot down a few British bombers with this machine gun?"

Camorl, from a peasant family, had qualifications similar to William's, but currently, he was just a basic technical sergeant. The pilot of this BF-110 controlled two 20mm cannons and four 7.92mm machine guns, making its firepower quite formidable. However, the navigator and gunner seated back-to-back in the rear cockpit had only one rotatable MG15 aircraft machine gun (initially a two-person crew, later adding a radar operator).

William smiled kindly, "Well... it's indeed a bit challenging! But no worries. I'll split my kills with you!"

Camorl chuckled, "Boss, we've been on duty 32 times in the last two months, averaging once every two days, but we've only shot down 2 planes in total. Even if the higher-ups agree to split it between us, that's just one each! At this rate, by the time the war ends, we won't even hope for the 10th one!"

"Ah! Look at the 26th Fighter Squadron. When the fighting started at White Island, they got 4 aces within two days, tsk tsk! How I wish I could fly light fighters! Light, agile, and every mission lasts just over an hour before landing, while us... this trip alone is almost 3 hours!" William complained softly.

"Yeah, about 400 kilometers, one way is just 50 minutes, plus combat time... oh, Boss, don't forget what the squadron leader warned us about. Even if the opportunity is good, we can only engage with the enemy for 20 minutes, or we won't make it back!"

"Hehe, if it's more, we'll land in Cardiff!" William said cunningly.

Camorl was very resistant to this suggestion that went against orders. "Cardiff is an emergency airport! Didn't they just get bombed by the British Navy planes?"

"My dear peasant brother, you have to trust the capabilities of the German engineers. Besides, without taking some risks, when will we ever earn the Knight's Cross of the Iron Cross?"

"What's wrong with being a peasant? Peasants don't just go around crashing airplanes. Hmph! Be careful not to get another scolding from the squadron leader!" Camorl said unhappily.

"Who would scold an air combat hero?" William said as he repeatedly touched the firing button, imagining himself skillfully shooting down enemy planes one after another. Lately, he had been dreaming about combat!

After flying for some time, the noise from below quieted down. The Second Lieutenant looked down and saw that the dark green land had disappeared, replaced by the dark gray sea. The vast expanse of the sea resembled rough glass, and although they were flying at 4000 meters, it was still possible to spot ships on the sea surface. However, William squinted for quite some time but couldn't find a single one!

"We've flown over the Bristol Channel, haven't we, navigator buddy?" he said, unable to bear the loneliness.

"Yeah, the formation is well maintained!" Camorl seemed still preoccupied with their earlier conversation, sounding a bit stiff.

"Hey, stubborn pig, just trust me this time! We're up against British carrier aircraft. I've seen pictures; they're still using those old biplanes, like the Italian Fiat CR.42! Poor performance! Slower than our bombers!" William seemed to have already planned it out in his mind.

"Suit yourself!" Camorl remained displeased.

The two men remained silent for over ten minutes until land appeared again below the aircraft. It was the Welsh Peninsula on the north shore of Bristol Bay, which hadn't seen an invasion from foreign enemies since the retreat of the Romans over a thousand years ago—unless you counted the English as "invaders."

Suddenly, the silent squadron communication channel came to life with the usual deep voice of the squadron leader, "Attention all, attention all, this is Bueschmann. Enemy aircraft spotted ahead! Repeat, enemy aircraft spotted ahead, all formations maintain formation, prepare for combat!"

"What's the point of maintaining formation if we're going to fight?" William muttered disdainfully.

The black dots on the horizon quickly approached. They were almost at the same altitude, so just a minute later, the squadron leader shouted again over the channel, "Climb, all climb, gain altitude!"

Although William continued grumbling to himself, he still pulled the control stick slightly, causing the somewhat cumbersome twin-engine fighter to climb higher. The numbers on the altimeter quickly rose from over 5000 meters to just under 8000 meters—only half of the BF-110's ceiling of 11,000 meters.

The opposing formation also climbed, but to the surprise of the German pilots, the enemy's climb was much slower than their own.

As the distance between the two sides rapidly closed, the enemy's aircraft type became discernible. William shouted to his companion, "See, I told you! The British Navy is still using biplanes!"

The "Gladiator," which entered service in 1935, was already significantly behind the main fighter types of the major air forces before the war. However, due to further improvements needed in the cylinder head combustion chamber of the "Merlin" engine, which powered the Hurricane and Spitfire, production of the Hurricane and Spitfire couldn't proceed as planned. In 1939, the RAF and the Royal Navy even added contracts for this type of fighter. At the outbreak of war, the Royal Navy had seven squadrons of "Gladiators," configured as standard fighters on carriers such as the "Glorious," while the replacement model, the "Fulmar," was only equipped on three carriers and a small part of the coastal defense force by 1940.

"Attention, all attention! All four-plane formations, engage flexibly!"

The order from Captain Bueschmann, the squadron leader, was a huge relief for the heavily armed BF-110 fighters, which were not accompanied by bombers. In the original historical timeline, to cover the bomber formations, these twin-engine fighters, along with a considerable number of BF-109 light fighters, were shackled by rigid escort tactics, resulting in losses of aircraft and experienced pilots to the British Spitfires and Hurricanes!

At the start of the battle, William, this wild horse, obediently followed the lead aircraft, but after fumbling for half the time, he pressed the firing button once, only to miss the shot due to excessive excitement. He was so annoyed that the young Air Force lieutenant almost pounded his chest and stamped his feet. However, as the battle progressed, the tactical formations of both sides gradually fell apart, and the lead aircraft in William's group was unexpectedly hit by British carrier aircraft. Before bailing out, the unlucky pilot shouted over the communication channel, "Free combat, everyone take care!"

The wild horse loosened its reins and immediately became active. Spotting a solitary "Gladiator," William, unwilling to let it go, accelerated and pursued. Seeing himself targeted by the German fighter, the British pilot immediately made two simple evasive maneuvers, but to no avail. Unable to shake off his pursuer, he could only fly desperately northward. The bloodthirsty German pilot chased after him with all his might—590 kilometers per hour compared to 407 kilometers—an enormous advantage that quickly brought William within firing range. However, the consecutive two short bursts were dodged by the opponent like an eel. Frustrated, the German lieutenant fiercely unleashed his entire forward firepower, and the long barrage finally tore apart the wing skin of the "Gladiator." The pilot helplessly parachuted out, and the aircraft spiraled down into the sea.

William heaved a long sigh of relief, glanced at the altimeter, and found that he had descended from over 5000 meters to less than 800 meters in just a short while. Looking around, there wasn't a single aircraft in sight. Just as he was about to turn back, he suddenly spotted several conspicuous gray dots on the sea surface.

"Look, buddy, what's that?" William shouted excitedly.

"That's... oh my God, that's aircraft carriers! Three of them, it's them! But... where are we right now?" Camorl suddenly froze.

"Hey, buddy, you're the navigator!" William was also frustrated. He quickly switched to the squadron channel, "Captain, captain, this is Assad, we've found the British carriers! Huh? No response? Radio malfunctioning? Damn it!"

"It's been malfunctioning lately!" Camorl said weakly.

William tried to tinker with it, but had no luck with the sophisticated electronic instruments. Moreover, three more planes appeared in the direction of the British carriers, with their monoplane configuration, meaning they definitely weren't "Gladiators."

"Buddy, from now on, remember our heading, speed, and distance!" William shouted, "Although I hate cowards who run away the most, we absolutely can't afford to be shot down now! We need to take the news of the British carriers back!"

The reckless Air Force lieutenant was undoubtedly lucky—the top speed of the "Fulmar" was only 448 kilometers per hour, and even with all its might, it couldn't catch up to the BF-110. Of course, he also had to thank the Royal Air Force. If they had equipped the Navy with Spitfire fighters earlier, the outcome of this aerial chase would probably have been completely different!