Chapter 6 Heading South, Not North

Tobias pushed open the glass canopy above the cockpit, and a gust of salty sea breeze rushed in. "Wow, what a beautiful day!" Despite the large patches of clouds in the sky, there was still some light on the sea surface. More importantly, there was no sign of the usual raging winds in the English Channel; the waves looked unusually calm.

"Hurry! Inflate the raft!" Logan ordered nervously, scanning the surroundings vigilantly. In no time, a shadow silently glided overhead, sending shivers down their spines. Fortunately, Logan quickly realized it was their own plane, and under his watchful eye, the DFS230 light assault glider landed safely on the sea surface after a few bounces.

In the brief time it took, Logan's paratroopers had already detached the large package fixed at the top machine gun position and pushed it into the sea, forming a British-style life raft. Then, they began transferring their equipment from the glider to the raft. Tobias was the last to leave the glider - as the pilot, he was responsible for opening the special valve at the bottom of the glider, allowing it to slowly sink underwater.

"From now on, only English!" After everyone had moved to the life raft, Logan issued a new order solemnly.

Soldiers picked up oars and began rowing strenuously. After a few minutes, another glider disappeared from the sea surface, replaced by a similar style dinghy.

With the waves relatively calm, the two lifeboats successfully met after about twenty minutes.

"Everything is going smoothly, no injuries!" Lieutenant Rent Stephanberg, commander of the second assault group, reported to Logan in German.

"English, speak only English from now on!" Logan cautioned carefully. He looked towards the dark south, where according to the original plan, the landing point should have been about 15 nautical miles north of Dunkirk. If they relied solely on rowing, it would take about 5 to 6 hours to reach the shore.

After bidding farewell to their glider, Tobias had been holding his sextant, observing and calculating. Finally, Logan couldn't help but ask, "Tobias, how accurate is this thing? In nautical miles?"

Sergeant lowered the sextant in his hand and replied in English, "Sir, this can only give us our approximate position. Also, from now on, please call me John, John Cork!"

"Alright!" Logan felt a bit embarrassed. He turned to the other paratroopers and said, "Remember the names on your IDs. Now, row south!"

The paratroopers took turns rowing in pairs. After about an hour, a different light appeared on the horizon, not like starlight, but a faint orange-red glow, like the dawn breaking in the east. However, the compass clearly showed that it was to the south.

"Lieutenant, listen..."

Standing at the bow was Airman Mark Elra, tall and thin, towering at 6 feet 3 inches, he had been a goalkeeper for a team in the Munich area before the war. Logan had loved football since his school days and had even been the captain of the class team, but his height limitations prevented him from pursuing it further. The situation seemed to have changed significantly now. When the war ended, Logan might be able to continue to showcase his talent in football - in the 1940s and 1950s, the total attacking and total defending football tactics would make those traditional teams bow down!

At this moment, apart from the sounds of the waves and the sea breeze, there was another faint sound, like drums from an ancient battlefield, or the roar coming from the other end of the sea.

"It sounds like a ship... Let's stop rowing!" Private Tino Grot, sitting next to Logan, reminded his commander and companions in a low voice. This man's full name was Tino Grot, born in 1906, and among the paratroopers participating in the "Potassium Cyanide" operation, he had several "most": the oldest, the most diverse in profession, the most visited cities, and claimed to have the strongest "little John" in the unit. This guy had worked as a waiter, stoker, sailor, and even a boxing sparring partner before he hitched a ride on the German military's rearmament bus two years ago, fortunately becoming a member of the elite airborne forces. Of course, his salary was much higher than that of ordinary army soldiers.

Logan raised his right hand, signaling the paratroopers to stop rowing. Everyone remained still, holding their breath. The strange sound grew closer and clearer, and when there was still darkness in sight, the unknown anxiety gradually turned into tension and fear. When the sound of rushing waves became clear, a black silhouette of an indeterminate size finally appeared on the sea surface!

"Get down!" Logan quietly instructed his paratroopers. From the dark blurry outline, it was at least a medium-sized ship, and if discovered at this moment, Logan and his team would probably be "rescued" to England, even if they managed to bluff their way through!

With the tense atmosphere almost solidified, there was an uncontrollable tension. Logan thought to himself, "If all else fails, let's wreak havoc in England!"

One by one, the paratroopers crouched down, trying to hide in the limited space of the life raft. Time passed second by second, and the deafening noise generated by the boat's operation became clearer. Under the powerful propulsion, the sharp bow easily split the waves, leaving a non-linear trail.

Fortunately, the two sides did not get too close, and the boat did not turn on any lights during its journey. After half an hour, the unsettling roar finally receded.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Tino Grot skillfully took out a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit one, saying quietly to Logan's questioning gaze, "Don't worry, sir, I won't light it, just to satisfy my craving!"

Craving... Logan had never smoked before the age of 20, but about a month before his 21st birthday, he not only learned to smoke but also binged on alcohol for several days in a row. He was only a step away from swaggering around "Gentle Harbor."

As the sea breeze blew, Logan found sweat on his forehead and temples. He took out his own pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. Although the losses of the British Expeditionary Force so far were far less than those of the French army, the discarded supplies during the retreat were still countless. Therefore, for the German troops, it was not difficult to equip these paratroopers with genuine British goods.

With the commander leading the way, the paratroopers beside him followed suit.

After a brief rest, the paratroopers picked up the oars again, and the two life rafts continued to sail south at a slow pace. After rowing for a while, Tobias suddenly nudged Logan's arm with his elbow, indicating something was happening to the north.

Once again, human ears hoped to play the role of cat ears. Although the effect was very limited, this group of German paratroopers wearing British uniforms still spotted the ship coming from north to south in advance.

After recognizing that the outline of the ship was not that of a warship, everyone on the two life rafts waved and shouted vigorously, fearing that the other side might not notice them!

Before boarding, Logan specifically instructed his soldiers to splash some seawater on their faces and bodies, and also threw away two military caps. After all, the more disheveled they looked, the better.