"We sing loudly today
Drinking that cool fine wine
I am about to depart,
Let the wine glasses clink with a crisp sound
Let me hold your hand again
Hold your fair hand
Farewell, my beloved
Farewell, my beloved
Farewell, take good care
We go to war
We go to war
We go to war with England
England!"
In the shaking cabin of a "Giant" Me 323 transport aircraft, the song "We Go to War with England" was playing loudly, filling the cabin with an atmosphere of both excitement and tension. The excitement stemmed from fulfilling the unachieved aspirations of their predecessors from the last war, while the tension came from the uncertainty of what they would face once they landed on British soil. They might get torn apart by anti-aircraft fire right after jumping, land directly among a group of British soldiers, or end up far from their target...
To counter this tension, many paratroopers sang along loudly.
The Me 323 transport aircraft was developed from the Me 321 military glider, making it the largest land-based transport aircraft of WWII. Its cargo floor area was about 40 square meters, with a total cargo volume of 108 cubic meters. With an additional partition in the middle, it could transport 200 fully equipped soldiers.
Currently, this plane carried 120 paratroopers along with their weapons and equipment. Each of them also held a dummy that looked similar to their gear. These "fake paratroopers" were mostly made from straw, wood, and wire. When they jump, they would first throw out these dummies, making it seem like 240 "paratroopers" were descending from one plane, significantly confusing British anti-aircraft defenses on the ground and reducing the chance of being hit by half.
Suddenly, the red indicator light in the cabin lit up, the loud music stopped, replaced by the platoon leader's shout. "Five minutes to prepare! Check your gear by squad! Gather at the church marked on the map after landing! Remember the password 'High Mountain, Strong Pine' for your life! Got it? So you don't get shot by our own! Remember, church and 'High Mountain, Strong Pine'!!"
"..." The paratroopers began checking each other's parachutes, then ensuring their leg bags were securely fastened.
After the checks, the squad leaders loudly instructed their men. "Once you're down, you're surrounded by enemies. If there's any movement, shout the password first; if the response isn't correct, open fire immediately! If you end up far from your drop zone and can't find allies, think of a way to survive first, don't rush into combat, understand?"
"Understood!" everyone in the cabin shouted back.
Soon, the red light turned green. The four doors on both sides of the transport aircraft, plus the special paratrooper door on the belly of the plane, were opened, and cold air rushed into the cabin.
Boxes of weapons were pushed out, followed by paratroopers jumping one after another.
Sergeant Jonas, jumping out of the cabin, felt the night air was unusually damp, even somewhat chilly. But he wasn't alone; paratroopers were all around him. However, he couldn't distinguish between the real and the fake among so many parachutes. If he couldn't tell, then the British on the ground would certainly have an even harder time, blindly shooting into the sky. This thought made the bullets whizzing by less terrifying.
Finally, he heard the sound of his leg bag hitting the ground, followed by his feet landing firmly on the hard surface.
Quickly unhooking his parachute, he opened his leg bag to retrieve his weapons and ammunition. The cold steel in his hands gave him a sense of security. What pleased him even more was seeing another paratrooper land about twenty meters away. From the flapping parachute, it was clear this wasn't a dummy.
"High Mountain!" Jonas whispered the password as he approached while keeping an eye on the surroundings.
"Strong Pine!" The flapping parachute paused, the password was returned, followed by a plea for help. "Come help me, I'm tangled in this damn parachute."
"..." Jonas quickly pulled out his knife, cutting a large hole in the parachute to free the man trapped inside.
"Thanks." The paratrooper, now free from the parachute, revealed a remarkably young and tender face, making Jonas wonder if he was even of age. He introduced himself after retrieving his weapon from his leg bag. "I'm Private First Class Hoffmann from the third platoon."
Jonas nodded, replying, "I'm Sergeant Jonas from the first platoon."
Hoffmann shrugged, asking, "Alright, then I'll follow your command. What do we do now?"
Jonas glanced at the 40mm six-shot revolver grenade launcher in Hoffmann's hands and pointed towards an anti-aircraft gun continuously firing into the sky in the distance. "Let's take that one out first."
This wasn't their first rodeo; no matter how intense the bombing by the Luftwaffe, there were always a few lucky survivors. If they didn't deal with that anti-aircraft gun, it could cause significant trouble for their allies following.
The two stealthily approached within a hundred meters of the anti-aircraft gun, hiding behind a tree that had been cut in half by a bomb. Jonas asked, "Can you hit it from here?" He saw about ten British soldiers around the gun, plus a heavy machine gun. If they didn't incapacitate them quickly, they'd be pinned down by return fire.
"More than enough!" Hoffmann replied confidently, raising his gun and pulling the trigger. After a dull sound, an explosion occurred ten meters to the left of the gun. Hoffmann slightly adjusted his aim and fired the remaining five grenades.
"Boom!" It seemed one grenade had hit the pile of anti-aircraft shells, causing a massive explosion that sent shrapnel flying, killing most of the British soldiers around and knocking the rest down with the blast.
"Nice shot!" Jonas couldn't help but compliment, then shot a British soldier who was trying to get up.
"Thanks." Hoffmann smiled shyly, reloading his grenade launcher.
As Jonas was about to shoot again, dense gunfire came from the east side of the anti-aircraft position, finishing off the remaining British soldiers.
"Great, it's our own!" Jonas recognized at least two AKMS and one FAL. He led Hoffmann, crouched low, towards where the shots came from.
"High Mountain!"
"Strong Pine!"
Jonas met four soldiers and one dead body.
After a brief exchange of names, Jonas realized he was the highest-ranking among them; the dead body was a sergeant, but the dead don't command.
"Sir, I saw a weapons crate land about 1,000 meters from here when I came down," one of the soldiers reported.
Jonas checked the map against the terrain, finding they were on the edge of a town, with the church to the northeast and the weapons crate's drop point to the southwest.
A mere 1,000 meters shouldn't delay them much. "Let's go get the heavy weapons first."