Chapter 35: Wits and Courage

For the World War II-era biplanes, Logan's knowledge was limited to the Swordfish torpedo bomber, which damaged the Bismarck battleship's rudder. Little did he know that during this era, many countries still equipped themselves with biplanes that were outdated compared to mainstream aircraft. For instance, Italy, a loyal ally to Germany, had the Fiat CR-42 as its main aircraft type at the outbreak of war, and the Soviet Union relied on the I-15 as its main fighter. Countries with underdeveloped aviation industries that heavily relied on imports for their fighters were even further behind.

"It's a Gladiator! An old British fighter plane. It was used for reconnaissance and liaison missions in France, but its performance is quite poor!"

As the aircraft approached within machine gun range, Steinfelberg identified its model and gave a brief history of its origin.

Upon hearing this, the tension among Logan and the others eased considerably.

"Why would a reconnaissance plane come here? Are they searching for us?"

Lieutenant Scherme must have wished at that moment that the opposing aircraft was just passing by.

"The battle has been over for so long. The British headquarters must have been informed about the battle in Portsmouth Harbor and learned from the escaping British sailors that a minesweeper has been seized by us!" Logan analyzed according to general logic. "So, they sent reconnaissance aircraft to search!"

"When they probably couldn't imagine that the defected minesweeper, after leaving the harbor, didn't head to the nearest French port of Cherbourg, but instead headed southeast! Maybe... we can make it even more convincing!" Steering, Captain Falkenberg, suggested from his professional standpoint.

Logan, having no sailing experience, asked uncertainly, "You mean... we change course to the east?"

"For now! When it's out of sight, we'll turn back to the south. It won't waste much time!" Falkenberg said.

Looking at his two deputies, Logan, as the saying goes, sought advice from experts. He calmly accepted the seasoned advice.

"Let's do it! Let our men change into the uniforms of those British sailors. Those wearing German naval uniforms and British military police uniforms should stay off the deck. Tell everyone not to panic and especially to make sure no weapons accidentally fire!" Logan assigned tasks to Lieutenant Scherme, luckily they hadn't tossed the fallen British sailors and prisoners into the sea before leaving port.

"Got it, I'll go now!" The lieutenant saluted and hurried off.

From the sea, the British "gentleman plane" indeed moved slower than the German Messerschmitt fighters. Minutes later, it leisurely flew above the warship, circling gently at a height not exceeding 50 meters. By then, the minesweeper had turned eastward, but its previous trajectory could still be clearly seen from the white wake.

Though the British lieutenant's uniform was a bit tight for him, Logan didn't have to worry about bullet holes and bloodstains on him like some paratroopers did. That poor guy had long since woken up and was being held with several other prisoners in the lower decks. Whatever fate awaited this minesweeper, it was likely to be tragic.

Straightening his cap, Logan walked up to the bridge. "Act natural, nothing to be surprised about! Hey, Oliver, you can wave your hat at him!"

The deck had been cleared of the men with British naval attire. Small Scoob, now dressed in "British Navy leather," had left the lookout tower and was playing the role of an idle sailor on the foredeck. As Logan wished, he happily waved his hat as if the other was Santa Claus with a pocket full of gifts!

The "Santa" equipped with four machine guns remained noncommittal throughout. After three rounds of circling, it reluctantly flew southwest. Watching its trajectory, Logan's admiration for the submarine machinist suddenly surged...

When the "Gladiator" disappeared completely from sight, Falkenberg turned the wheel smoothly, aligning the minesweeper's sharp bow with the coast of southern France.

A quarter of an hour later, Sergeant Molt finally brought good news: "We've made contact with the operations headquarters. They will report our situation to the Air Force Command and the Navy Command!"

The operations headquarters, represented by General Puehl, acting commander of the 7th Airborne Division, and comprising liaison officers from the Air Force Command and Navy Command, was a temporary organization responsible for commanding and coordinating the "Operation Dagger." The liaison station and headquarters were both located in the northern French city of Caen—Logan and his team couldn't directly contact the supreme command in such operations!

"That's great, tell them we've obtained extremely important equipment. Please request air cover from the Air Force as much as possible!" Logan exclaimed. 

Though the German Navy's military power in the English Channel was almost negligible at this point, the steering machinist still suggested from the sidelines, "It's better to ask the Navy's submarine and torpedo boat units for support!"

Logan had always admired the determination of the German Navy, especially their ability to act decisively and achieve some decent results despite being at an absolute disadvantage at the outset of the war. So, he humbly accepted Falkenberg's new suggestion.

Continuing forward for half an hour, according to the chart, the "defected" J-36 was now more than 20 nautical miles away from Portsmouth Harbor. However, for the British destroyer with a maximum speed of over 30 knots, catching up wasn't a difficult task—what appeared first and initiated a warning attack against this minesweeper in full combat readiness was the Royal Air Force!

Four peculiar-looking Blenheim light bombers arrived together, the lead aircraft initially strafing the sea ahead with its machine guns, clearly demanding they change course. While Logan pretended to reluctantly comply, he also signaled with lights: We're friendly, don't shoot!

This time the British pilots didn't fall for it. When they realized the minesweeper was just feigning to change course and wasn't actually turning back to England, they dropped more serious warnings: two bombs were dropped towards the bow of the ship.

The two black eggs landed on the sea surface, causing water columns over twenty meters high, directly covering the masthead's St. George's Cross naval ensign.

"500-pound aerial bombs!" Falkenberg exclaimed. "One would be enough to cripple our ship!"

Even Logan, a naval layman, could see that the powerful bombs were too much for their minesweeper to handle. But with their previous combat experience, he realized that crisis moments required extra calmness. So, he deliberately had the sailors leave their gun positions and wave their arms, while continuing to confuse the opponent with light signals—this was just to buy time. With each passing minute, the chances of German fighters taking off from airfields in northern France increased. Even if just one Messerschmitt 109 appeared in time, it would be enough to drive away these pesky British bombers!

One minute, two minutes, five minutes passed, until the British bombers dropped bombs again. But this time, the German fighters Logan hoped for were nowhere to be seen. And what worried him even more was that these bombs landed just over ten meters from the ship's side. It seemed the British pilots were getting serious!