"Asshole! Asshole!" Lussman cursed loudly with red eyes, the smart me109 completely turned into a mad dog in his hands, and rushed towards the ms.406 that killed his comrade.
The French fighter also seized the opportunity and threw a rain of bullets towards the me109, which did not make any maneuvers at all, which made Lesman's plane have several more holes.
The ms.406 that shot down Albano, after confirming the victory, planned to have a beautiful small-radius round as the end, but its driver saw the crazy Les rushing towards him halfway through the round. Man, he had to end the maneuver in a panic, enduring the pain caused by the high g to avoid the attack.
Is Lesman willing to let go of the man who killed his comrade? He followed it and made a difficult small-radius turn, ignoring the "groaning" aircraft body, biting behind ms.406, and firing all his cannonballs at it.
Facts have once again proved the strength of German craftsmanship. The tattered me109 has withstood the high g without disintegrating, kept up with the almost unscathed ms.406, and sent more than ten shells into its body.
After reluctantly shooting down the fighter to avenge Albano, Lesman also recovered from his grief and regained the calmness that a pilot should have, but now calmness is obviously unable to save this German fighter with holes. .
Looking at the remaining ammunition and the smoking fuselage, and at the d.501 biting behind him, Lesman gave a wry smile and pushed the cockpit away to prepare for parachuting.
Just when he was about to abandon the fighter plane that had been with him for a long time, the d.501 that had been following him was volleyed into fireworks, and then an hs-129 flew over the head of the slow-moving poor Lesman. Pass.
"Look down on the German attack plane, eh? Look down on the German attack plane?!" The arrogant voice of the pilot of the German attack plane came over the radio.
His own fighter jet was turned into fireworks by the attack plane, which surprised the pilot of the only remaining ms.406. He looked at Lesman, who was still flying despite the smoke, and looked at him again. The aggressive formation of German attack planes was so frightened that they hurriedly turned their course and fled towards the road they came from.
1 against 4? No fight, no fight, the French pilot thought.
"Man, I'm sorry..." On the radio, the German fighter pilot said regretfully to Lesman.
"Alas." Lussman closed the cockpit and sat down again, "It's fine, but I think I might not be able to fly back."
"Then go skydiving!" the attack plane pilot said urgently.
"No, I want to go see my buddy!" Lesman steered the scarred me109 to a heavy head and glided in the direction where Albano fell, "Remember to tell the ground troops that I'm here, I don't want to walk back."
"Okay man, good luck." The German attack plane waved its wings towards Lesman to show respect, and then flew towards the airport with the same scars.
Covered in smoke, the tattered me109 gliding in the air still looked so beautiful. Under Lusman's control, it landed safely on the ground, dragging out a long ravine.
Lesman pushed open the cockpit cover and jumped out of the plane. Looking at the burning wreckage of me109 not far away, he slowly sat on the ground with the scarred plane behind him and fell asleep.
After an unknown amount of time, the sky gradually became dark, and Lusman was woken up by the roar of the engine and the dazzling light. behemoth.
A shield symbol with a missing opening in the upper right corner drawn on the steel behemoth indicates which army it belongs to - the German SS armored force.
"Hey, buddy, do you want to hitch a ride?" A frivolous voice came over, "I don't think you would want to walk by yourself in this wilderness."
"Well, that's exactly what I mean." Lusman swayed and stood up, then climbed onto the steel behemoth. After Lusman came up, the behemoth swayed back onto the road and caught up with the one in front of him. tank.
"Hi, I'm Joseph. We belong to the 101st Heavy Tank Destroyer Battalion of the SS Führer's Guard Flag." Joseph extended his hand to Lesman and said affectionately.
Lesman reached out and shook hands with Joseph, and said, "I am Lesman, I belong to the seventh squadron of the third group of the 52nd Fighter Wing of the Air Force."
Speaking, he looked at the four tanks that were lined up with their backs to Germany, and asked hesitantly, "Uh, are you here to pick me up?"
"No." Before Joseph could speak, a hatch beside Lesman was lifted, and a person crawled out of it, "I'm Michelle Hartman, the captain of Car No. 1331."
"Hello." Lesman and Hartman shook hands.
"Our mission is to support the 1st Company of the 3rd Battalion, 137th Regiment of the Panzergrenadier Division 'Belisingen'. It is entirely Joseph and Schmidt's idea to pick you up." Wittmann explained his mission to Lesman. , and then added, "I squinted for a while, so..."
"..." Lesman was speechless, he thought the tank was here to take him back to the airport.
He wants to ask, is it too late to get off the bus now? I want to go back to the airport!
"I said, take a ride." Joseph explained aside.
"What are you doing here?" Wittman glanced at his loader.
"I, I bask in the moonlight." Joseph scratched his head and smirked.
"Go back quickly!" Wittman ordered with a frown.
"Understood!" Joseph saluted and hurriedly crawled back from the hatch, muttering as he crawled, "God, I don't know if those tough guys are still alive."
Lusman recalled the battle situation he saw during the day, and hesitated: "The battle situation there is a bit bad, maybe..."
Wittman looked at the distant firelight and said in a low voice, "If they die, I will avenge them."
Then he looked at Lusman and asked, "You should be waiting for the Air Force to send you back, right? I'm sorry, my men screwed up your plan, but the battle is urgent, so we can't send you back. Now, why don't you just get off here?"
Get off here? You have taken me away from the place where I crashed. Can the person who picked me up in this wilderness find this? Lesman thought helplessly.
"Forget it, I'll go back to the battlefield with you." Lesman sighed and said, "Can you contact it? Please tell the Air Force that I'm with you."
"Okay." Wittman nodded, and then ordered the electromechanical operator in the car, "Varna Iregan, tell your superior, Sergeant Lesman of the 7th Squadron, 3rd Brigade, Air Force 52nd Wing. Stay with us and let the Air Force not worry."
"Understood." The electrical engineer Varna Irigan replied.
"You'll get out of the car soon." Wittmann said to Lusman again, "There's no more space in the car, you're more dangerous in the car."
"OK, all right."