Battle of the Third Reich: The 168th undercurrent surge
""="('')"="()">
"That's it, stick the can opener here, then press it down hard, see if you understand, try it yourself. Net..." Captain Mannerheim handed the can back to the young man Recruits.
"Thank you, sir, I thought this thing was broken." The new second-class sailor is only seventeen years old. He is a good and cheerful young man. He has completed the regular submarine crew training. If you are on this voyage If he performs well in the medium, he can get the official submarine crew badge.
"Well, you have a lot to learn, kid." Mannerheim winked at the recruit, then lowered his head and started reading the magazine in his hand.
"Which one did you choose, if you are unsure, I can recommend one to you. This year's latest Volkswagen, cheap and good performance, anyway, you don't have much time to stay ashore." Fez Lieutenant Le, holding an unlit cigarette in his mouth, is using playing cards to gauge the future for the medical officer.
"Ah, six of spades, you are such a lucky guy. Let's look at the next one..."
"Captain, the command of the headquarters has been translated." The signalman yelled from behind the curtain of the telecom room.
"I'm coming right away." Mannerheim dropped the magazine in his hand, got up from the corner sofa in the officer's lounge, and walked along the narrow aisle towards the telecom room.
"This is the first copy, this is the second copy. The order of the two copies is this. I have checked it repeatedly." The correspondent handed the telegram paper to the captain. Mannerheim took the telegram paper and stood in the corridor of the communication room reading with the overhead light.
"Fessler!" Mannerheim called his deputy captain.
"We need to change the course and have a new mission." With the two telegrams, he bent over through the waterproof door beside him, and entered the command cabin next door.
"The captain enters the bridge." The non-commissioned officer on duty shouted loudly, and all the officers on duty turned to the captain to pay attention.
"Everyone, please continue." Mannerheim nodded to his subordinates, then walked straight to the chart table.
"35...11...F..." He picked up the slide rule and began to calculate the parameters.
"What's the new mission?" Fessler got into the command cabin, holding the deflated cigarette in his hand, holding his soft top combat hat in his hand.
"The order from the Navy Headquarters, we should start executing the order the moment we get the order, because it took some time to decipher, and we are already a bit late. Now our position is a bit northerly." Mannerhai Mu used a ruler to draw a route.
"The ship we were following had to give up. It's a pity, that guy has a full 4,700 tons." Fesler picked up the telegram and looked carefully.
"There is no way, the command of the headquarters has the highest priority." Mannerheim drew a cross on a point on the map.
"We are going to reach this location within twelve hours to rendezvous with the naval task force. It seems to be a big operation. I have never seen so many new code names and the latest radio identification codes activated at the same time. Also modified the night identification light." Mannerheim dropped the pencil in his hand and looked at the chart with his hips akimbo.
"Look at the meeting point. We may have to enter the Mediterranean Sea. This is the first time that the German naval submarine unit has entered this area. Did we bring a chart of that area?" Fessler elbows in the sea. On the chart table, measuring the voyage with a compass.
"There should be a copy in the chart box, sandwiched in the pile that was newly sent after returning home."
"Ah, I found it. Is this this one? It's all in French?"
"The French chart of the Mediterranean Sea is better than our standards. They have to re-mapping once a year, and our Italian friends..."
"Well, I believe in the French in this respect." Fessler rolled the chart. Tucked into the map shelf beside the chart table.
"We have half of the fuel left, and there are eight torpedoes. Food and fresh water can last for two weeks. If possible, there should be some supplements at the meeting point."
"Are we the only one who received the notification?" Fessler looked at the latest version of the ship identification manual against the number on the telegram.
"Look at the call code, this is for our entire boat group."
"Rubber duck boats? It sounds like a pile of bathtub toys."
"I really like the name, you think. No matter how you push it into the water, it will always come to the surface as soon as you let go."
When the radio waves emitted by the German Naval Command’s remote station swept across the North Sea and Scarpa Bay, orders from the German Air Force Command began to spread between the various field airports.
"That was the thirty-fourth."
"Thirty-three, thirty-three."
"Thirty-four, you fool, look at my fingers. One, two, three, four, thirty-four." Ensign Einz von Nimo Air Force extended four fingers to his companion not far away Shaking.
"You two **** don't chat in the communication channel, I'm taking orders from the major." The squadron leader's roar came from the headset.
"Thirty-four." Nemo mouthed silently outside the cabin and continued to wave the four fingers. The partner flying close to the Nemo plane was obviously unwilling to compromise. He also stretched out his hands in the cabin and gestured to the number three.
"All the first squadron listened well, change course. Adjust your compass, course 155. We are going to cross the French defense line, always pay attention to the surrounding situation, there will be French aircraft to lead us, it said they He won't shoot at us, but you can't take it lightly." The leader of the F190 swayed the wings, then quickly made a half-roll, and instantly turned the plane's course.
These nine F190s belong to the Air Force’s No. 1 Special Training Group. As an adaptive training unit for the new model, this group is responsible for not only training seed pilots in each wing, but also to explore various ways in actual combat. Practical tactics of the model, looking for the advantages and disadvantages of the model, enriching the contents of the flight operation manual and other test tasks.
"Heading 155, there are two-thirds of the fuel in the auxiliary tank. Where is the final destination? Sir." Nemo pressed the throat transmitter and asked his squadron leader.
"I don't know, Second Lieutenant, it's probably near Lyon, or somewhere further south. The major just ordered us to fly in this direction, and a French plane will pick it up."
"We have already flown across the border, and I am measuring our position."
"Number four, pay attention to the course and keep in formation."
"Be careful to search around. Pay attention to high places."
"The idiot painted blue is thirty-four."
"Thirty-three, you red fool."
"Shut up immediately, and I will report in detail the violations of your two idiots to Major Speru"
The course was set, and the pilots of each team began to talk about each other on the radio.
Lieutenant Nemo turned off the radio transmission switch. He pulled out the map of France from the map bag on his leg, turned it over, and inserted it back in again. The squadron is now flying over the French control zone. The ground is peaceful and peaceful, and farmland and villages are being restored to life. You can even clearly see the traces of vehicles traveling back and forth on the highway.
It’s a month ago. At this time, it should have been attacked from the ground in a mess, but now these nine German fighters are flying above France with ease, and no one will disturb them. March. Through the transparent celluloid film on the leg bag, Nemo marked the track with a pencil on the map.
"Found the target, front left, 270, distance two thousand." The captain of the flanks issued an alarm.
"Perhaps it is here to pick up our plane, pay attention." The squadron commander issued a warning order. Nemo waved his hand to his partner not far away. Then he lifted the gun firing safety catch on the handle.
Two French planes also spotted these German fighter jets at the same time. They turned their noses quickly and began to approach the German fleet quickly. The French pilot who led the team was very mature and stable. He obviously didn't want the Germans to feel any misunderstanding. His flying posture was very smooth and steady, without any sign of demonstration or provocation.
The German side also breathed a sigh of relief at the same time. The performance of the French pilots immediately filled them with goodwill. The fighter formation returned to the cruise flight state. The pilot released the oxygen mask and closed the safety switch of the gun circuit.
"This is the French Air Force Tour Lafayette Squadron. I have been ordered to navigate for you. I am glad to see you. I am the squadron commander Major Noel and the wingman Lieutenant Thierry." The headset sounded. The French pilot called in accented German.
"This is the 555th Squadron of the Luftwaffe. I'm Captain Charel. I'm glad to see you, Major." The captain replied in fluent French.
"I never thought that one day I would lead a German fighter jet. Now my mood is very complicated. Three months ago, I was still fighting each other with you. You shot down many of my outstanding subordinates, and we also shot down. A lot of your soldiers. At that time the whole world was crazy. Everything became a mess."
"I can understand your feelings, Major, I also lost a lot of friends in the war. We are all fighters, fighting for our country,"
"Thank God that everything is about to pass now. We may establish a true friendship. I'm sorry to tell you this, Mr. Captain. Please follow us now. I will lead you to the scheduled base and land, your liaison officer. We are already waiting for your arrival at the airport." The French fighter swayed its wings a few times, then flew to the front of the fleet, and began to lead the fleet to turn slowly.
The aircraft fleet slowly penetrated into the French control area, and the signal strength of the Paris navigation station decreased a bit. German pilots turned the FM knob~IndoMTL.com~ to switch the frequency of the positioning station.
"Look, those Stukas." Nemo's partner, Lieutenant Dior Sala stared below the fleet in surprise.
"What? Oh, it's really rare to see." Nemo turned the fuselage and looked down. At a low altitude of one kilometer from the ground, a group of Stuka bombers painted in blue and white camouflage lined up. The neat formation is moving in the same direction.
"Is that the naval aviation? There is a battalion." Diaw said on the radio.
"God, you look back." Another pilot interjected in. The two aces quickly turned their faces and looked at them, and they were immediately attracted by the spectacular sight in front of them.
The bombing secrets with blue-white and off-white coatings are densely lined up in tight formations, like mottled rain clouds, one fleet is closely followed by another, and the mighty team stretches to the edge of the horizon.
Continue to ask for monthly tickets. Please check again if there are any extra monthly tickets. Please vote for this. Thank you for your continued support. Looking at the improvement of the results, I have added more to the completion of this book. confidence. (To be continued. If you like this work, you are welcome to vote for recommendations and monthly tickets. Your support is my biggest motivation.)