Chapter 222: The Eagle of Belfast

On the last night before the battle, the German Air Force frontline command on Anglesey Island seemed unusually calm. Due to strict radio control, air force commanders were unable to determine the actual position of their own naval vessels. The movement of models on the war map could only be based on planned scenarios, and they hoped that the meticulousness of the German military could overcome the effects of weather and sea conditions.

Although not fond of alcohol, Richtofen still had his adjutant open a bottle of "Chivas Regal" confiscated from British warehouses - a premium Scotch whisky from Scotland. By the blazing fireplace, he, Logan, and Susman, three air force commanders, chatted away, forgetting the age difference between them. That night, Logan gained a deeper understanding of aerial combat in World War I, the chivalry on the battlefield, and the friendships between different nationalities. They even debated the issue of tactical air force versus strategic air force. As for the airborne commander, William Susman, he avoided mentioning his airborne operations while drinking, instead reminiscing about his awe-inspiring visit to the British Empire Museum in his youth and remarking, "Every exquisite piece of art should be properly preserved by the community that created it. That is the true wealth of humanity!"

This statement left a profound impression on Logan and sparked an inexplicable fondness for the airborne commander. Of course, he was also very curious: what was left in the British Empire Museum in London? How much of the world's unparalleled treasures had been moved elsewhere?

After a comfortable sleep, Logan woke up to find that it was already daylight. Hearing faint bursts of roaring engines, he quickly got up from the sofa. He opened the window, only to be blocked by the misty fog, instantly dampening his mood: Welsh winters were indeed as bad as the legends!

When he arrived at the command room, Susman was nowhere to be seen, but Richtofen was calmly drinking coffee.

"General, about today's weather... we could still see the stars last night, couldn't we?" Logan rubbed his face and said.

Richtofen turned around and calmly replied, "Hey, in Britain, don't use stars to judge the weather for the next day! But don't worry, Minister of Operations, the fog will soon dissipate! I believe it!"

"Let's hope so!" Logan took a cup of steaming fragrant tea from his adjutant, Karl August. Whether August, the young staff officer, was still a "sleeper agent" sent by Goering had lost its significance. Out of Hartmann's own wishes, Logan had sent him to study at the German Air Force Academy. During this period, letting the clever and accident-prone August continue to serve as his adjutant was the lazier but more ideal choice.

Time passed second by second. Seeing Richtofen's unfazed demeanor, Logan had no choice but to calm down and wait patiently. Half an hour, an hour, by the time it was almost 9 o'clock, the fresh and bright sunlight finally dispersed the thin mist shrouding the land and sea.

At exactly 9 o'clock, with Richtofen's command, the combat aircraft, which had already completed pre-flight checks and preparations, took off from the 11 airfields on the island at the fastest speed. The first wave of attack aircraft consisted of 55 Bf-109s, 12 Ju-88s, and 40 Ju-87s. Instead of heading directly to Belfast, they flew north until they passed the northern part of the Isle of Man, then suddenly turned west. At the same time, German bombers taking off from airports like Chester also staged tactical feints towards Carlisle and Newcastle!

After 20 minutes of flight, Lieutenant Otto von Helschtainna commanded 16 Bf-109E7 fighters to boldly enter Belfast Bay, where at least 20 antiaircraft artillery battalions were deployed on both sides. The brave German eagles, undeterred by the flames erupting beneath their wings, rapidly approached the military airfield on the east side of the harbor at an altitude of 1000 meters. The faster and lower they flew, the clearer the planes and hangars on the ground became visible until the altitude indicator showed less than 200 meters!

The British had already set up radar stations in Northern Ireland, giving them early warning capabilities. However, when these German fighters suddenly turned west after deceptively flying north and appeared over Belfast airport just as the fog was dissipating, only a few British fighters urgently took off. More planes lazily left their protective hangars, much like people who had just woken up...

Ratatatatat...

Lieutenant von Helschtainna was the first to press the firing button. The two 20mm machine guns along with the 7.92mm machine gun at the nose of his aircraft roared, and a continuous stream of bullets whipped like a dark red whip towards the British fighters lined up on both sides of the runway. Judging by their size, they were neither Spitfires nor Hurricanes but rather P-40s urgently transported from across the ocean. Although the British Royal Air Force was disappointed with these "Tomahawks I", they had to be piloted by the newcomers who had just been transferred from the reserves in the face of the shortage of fighters.

The accompanying German fighters also opened fire one after another. After a barrage of intense gunfire, although less than a third of the British fighters directly exploded into flames, the rest were not much better: some had their wings riddled with bullet holes, some had their tails shot off, and some cockpits were unrecognizable, while others were crippled with broken landing gears and collapsed on the ground...

After a successful low-altitude strafing, Lieutenant von Helschtainna quickly pulled up his fighter. The shells fired by British antiaircraft guns exploded on both sides of the wings, then exploded 200-300 meters in front of the aircraft - the intense flames were quite dazzling, and the explosion's airflow caused the aircraft to violently shake. Lieutenant von Helschtainna clenched his teeth, narrowed his eyes, and gripped the control stick tightly, resisting the fear instinctively generated by the dangers surrounding him. The next few seconds felt like centuries passed. When the explosion pierced his eardrums and the canopy creaked, he even prepared for the worst. However, moments later, the noisy and disturbing sounds suddenly moved away from him. He suddenly looked back: the fuses of the British antiaircraft shells couldn't adjust in time with the rapid maneuvers of the German fighters, and the explosion zone only lingered at about 400 meters altitude. The Messerschmitt fighters that had completed the first strafing ran through the death zone one after another, and the residual smoke on their fuselages was quickly blown away by the oncoming wind!

"Nice one, boys!" Lieutenant von Helschtainna couldn't help but shout in the communication channel.

"Boss, watch your left!" a calm voice reminded.

The lieutenant didn't have time to turn his head, but caught a glimpse of a silver-gray aircraft speeding towards his side. With lightning-fast reflexes, he commanded his fighter to flip sharply to the right. Just as this maneuver began to take effect, the distinct rattle of a 12.7mm machine gun came from nearby. Resisting the pressure caused by the rapid turn, von Helschtainna glanced slightly to his left: two streams of tracer bullets flew past the wingtips, with the distance no more than two meters!

"Take these guys out!"

The lieutenant gritted his teeth and yelled, then used four consecutive rolls to the right followed by a sudden roll to the left to evade the attacker's assault. Utilizing a speed advantage of over 100 kilometers per hour, he swiftly maneuvered to the rear. Finally, he got a clear look at the guy who almost took him down: with a single-wing layout, the massive engine made the nose much longer than the "Spitfire" and "Messerschmitt," placing the pilot's cockpit towards the rear of the fuselage, a shape somewhere between a German square and a British bubble.

The original pursuer suddenly became the prey. The P-40 clumsily twisted its body, its slow rolls almost causing Lieutenant von Helschtainna to collapse onto his control panel. With minimal effort, he firmly locked onto his target through the sights, closing the distance to 200 meters before opening fire. The four machine guns mounted in the nose of his aircraft roared joyfully, and a dense rain of bullets swept across the silver-gray British fighter. Seeing the fragments of the transparent canopy being shattered by bullets, the lieutenant knew that this guy, even if he had nine lives, wouldn't make it!

The P-40 ceased its poor tactical maneuvering, wobbling in level flight for a distance. Suddenly, the massive engine erupted with a bright yellow flame, but it was short-lived. A large cloud of black smoke gushed from every opening in the nose, accompanied by a familiar whine, as the British fighter plummeted irreversibly towards the ground like a dead eagle!

The sky was still filled with noise: British antiaircraft guns had risen to about 1000 meters following the trajectory of the German fighter group, firing projectiles into the air regardless of their own fighters in the melee. The chasing fighters buzzed around like flies, and upon closer observation, most of the attackers were German fighters with blue-green camouflage and black-and-white Iron Cross insignias on their fuselages!

Continuous combat had depleted Lieutenant von Helschtainna's ammunition by half, especially the powerful 20mm machine guns which troubled German pilots due to their low ammo capacity. If they kept firing continuously, they would find themselves out of ammo in about 10 seconds! After confirming that there were no comrades in need of urgent assistance, he quickly pulled up on the control stick, maneuvering his plane to a higher and safer altitude. By now, the silhouette of twin-engine bombers had appeared in the direction of the coast. In the sunlight, the Ju-88 squadron looked like angels clad in golden armor. Despite the British ground antiaircraft guns quickly targeting them, these fast bombers maintained their formation steadily. As their shadows passed over the harbor, the dark bombs began to scream as they fell...