If it were an unlimited-time battle, there would be a 99.9% chance that 11 BF-109s could handle 26 British bombers along with the 2 "Spitfires" and 5 "Hurricanes" escorting them. However, war is not merely a numbers game. Seven British fighters held back an equal number of German fighters, while the British bomber group, disregarding the German fighters attacking like rabid dogs, continued flying towards the center of the Isle of Wight at an altitude of less than 500 meters.
In just two minutes, 2 "Blenheim", 1 "Wellington", and 1 "Hurricane" were shot down in succession. Under the attacks of the BF-109s, some British bombers also bore rows of bullet holes in certain parts of their fuselage. However, after nearly twenty aerial battles in two days, the British RAF pilots seemed indifferent to life and death, and their combat patterns became clearer.
Over ten "Junkers-52" parked at Bembridge Airport first attracted the attention of the British bomber group. Four agile Wellington bombers dove down like swallows, evading ground anti-aircraft fire, and dropped 16 300-pound bombs at an altitude of less than a hundred meters, destroying or igniting seven or eight German transport planes on the spot. Subsequently, six "Blenheim" bombers dropped tons of bombs directly from their original altitude. The fierce flames instantly engulfed most of the two runways. Four German transport planes parked in the northern position were directly scrapped, and an oil truck that failed to evacuate was also detonated, resulting in a mushroom-shaped smoke cloud rising tens of meters high!
The British bombers, after completing their bombing runs, quickly climbed and returned, while the remaining armed aircraft continued flying south. Similarly, at Bembridge Airport, there were rows of German transport planes parked, with two German fighters taxiing on the runway. The British pilots were well aware that once these two were given the ability to move freely, they would become extremely dangerous aerial predators. The ventral turret of the "Blenheim" fiercely fired at the ground, with a string of bullets leaving conspicuous marks on the ground. They chased after the German fighters accelerating on the runway. Eventually, one of the unfortunate BF-109s lost balance and altitude while its landing gear was already off the ground, and its left wing touched the ground first, followed by a swift left turn and a harsh crash off the runway!
The other German fighter taking off at the same time was much luckier. It dodged the ambush of its archenemy and swiftly climbed left and right. Seeing this, the British bombers flying over the airport hastily dropped all their bombs and, without bothering to observe their results, hurriedly climbed and turned, trying to leave before more German fighters "awakened"!
Due to the short-sightedness of the British bomber pilots, in the end, only one weakly armed "Wellington" appeared at the Chichester Airport, also known as "Link Airport" among German troops. Perhaps they were taken aback by the large number of Stukas diving and bombing on both sides of the runway, or perhaps they were disturbed by German ground fire. Four bombs unexpectedly fell to the far edge of the runway, only grazing the closest two Ju-87s with shrapnel.
The supreme commander personally supervised the battle, and the artillerymen of General Goring's corps were particularly vigorous. The 37mm anti-aircraft guns and 20mm machine guns borrowed from Newport Airport soon intertwined into a fierce mosquito swatter - the shells tore off the wing of that British bomber, and before it crashed, the British pilot quickly parachuted to safety. However, due to the low altitude, the white parachute did not open until just before the person hit the ground. Even if he miraculously survived, the German soldiers riding motorcycles rushing to the landing site would leave him with a profound impression of war...
Escaping a great danger brings great fortune! Logan almost roared to the sky. Watching the retreating British bombers, he grabbed the sleeves of Jäger and Laurence, saying, "Quick, load the Stukas! Quickly, follow the British bombers and attack their airfields!"
Under the shouts of the two air force majors, the German pilots, ground crew, and even the Waffen-SS soldiers who came to help immediately showed a passion for a hundred-meter sprint: they boarded trucks loaded with fuel and bombs and quickly reached the parking positions. Those who loaded fuel and bombs did not dare to be careless but showed the same enthusiasm as when participating in exercise competitions.
"Load only half the fuel for each aircraft, but make sure all bombs are mounted!"
"Those with fuel and bombs loaded go to the runway first, the others follow quickly!"
Knowing that opportunities were fleeting, the two majors shouted with all their might, completely discarding the elegance and composure that German officers prided themselves on.
Logan and his adjutant Hartmann seemed a bit idle on the entire airfield. The 27-year-old German Air Force major stared at his Glashütte watch again and calculated the time. Three minutes after the end of the British bombing, the first Stuka entered the runway; five minutes later, the third Stuka began to taxi; seven minutes later, six Stukas formed the first attack formation and flew north; eleven minutes later, the second attack formation of six Stukas flew north; fifteen minutes later, the third attack formation of six Stukas flew north. Nineteen minutes later, Adolf Galland's plane swayed and landed.
It seemed intentional for this ace pilot. The Messerschmitt fighter taxiing to within 20 meters of Logan stopped suddenly, and the dust kicked up by the propeller almost made Logan taste the real "dirt face." He walked up, intending to tease Galland a bit, but was surprised to find rows of bullet holes on the left side of the upper fuselage of the Messerschmitt, painted in dark and gray camouflage on top and light blue below: the upper row extended from the tail wing root to the number position behind the cockpit, and the lower row extended from the Iron Cross emblem to the wing root. These bullet holes were small and dense, making it difficult to estimate their approximate quantity for a moment.
Logan stared blankly at these bullet holes, realizing that while aerial combat pilots were envied for their martial arts skills, the scars left on them also reminded people that combat was cruel, and perhaps a centimeter's deviation could end a young person's grand ideals.
Galland jumped lightly out of the cockpit, his face resembling Chaplin's brimming with a confident smile, and his gloved hand made a "two" gesture towards Logan.
"Another two shot down!"
Logan was momentarily speechless, filled with deep admiration.
A true hero dares to laugh in the face of death!
Seeing Logan in a daze, Galland gave him a punch on the shoulder, "Fantastic! Colonel, your Fortress Plan is simply flawless!"
"Oh! Congratulations, Major!" Logan finally regained his composure. Perfect? No, this "Fortress" was not perfect, and there was no such thing as true perfection in the world. But without his "Fortress Plan," German pilots would hardly have the opportunity to shoot down British bombers in the Battle of Britain. When they flew over the English Channel, they were always faced with hordes of
British fighters - stubborn, tenacious, with longer loiter times than their own, and once the situation turned bad, turning north would make German pilots sigh (pursue? Unless they didn't want to return to their own airfield).
"Hey, if I'm not mistaken, my squadron has shot down the 101st British aircraft, including 39 fighters, 60 bombers, and 2 reconnaissance aircraft. So, have I won our bet?" Galland looked at Logan triumphantly, like a child.
"Of course!" Logan watched the ground crew hurriedly push Galland's plane to the side of the runway, reloading fuel and ammunition. If there was time, they could also inspect the engines and fuel lines, but those bullet holes probably wouldn't be patched up before the battle ended.
"Hey, how about the next bet...200 aircraft, or my 40th victory?" Galland took out a half-smoked "Dunhill" cigar from his chest pocket - one of the high-quality items seized from the British, said to be popular among gentlemen in England.
"200 aircraft, of course!"
After lighting the cigar, the strong aroma filled the air.
With the cigar in his mouth, Galland said somewhat indistinctly, "Hmm, no problem, the bet is still a box of cigars, Dunhill cigars!"
Dunhill was a top brand from Brazil, not easy to come by during the war. However, compared to these valuable items, Logan obviously valued the priceless ones more. Two hundred aircraft accounted for nearly one-fifth of the total number of British RAF operational aircraft when the Battle of Britain broke out (about 600 fighters plus about 500 bombers). If such astonishing results could be achieved by a single German fighter squadron in a short period, it would undoubtedly be a "great achievement"!
As the two conversed, they watched the rest of the BF-109s that had participated in the previous battle land one after another. The fighters taking off from another airport quickly filled the patrol positions in the sky, ensuring the most effective response when the British aircraft returned.
Faintly, there came rumbling sounds in the distance. On the Isle of Wight, hearing such sounds had become commonplace, and Logan couldn't be sure what they meant. After a few minutes, Major Laurence finally ran out of the bunker where his command post was located, "Colonel, good news!"
Since it was good news coming from this airport commander's mouth, Logan finally breathed a sigh of relief, but Galland still looked somewhat puzzled.
"They successfully raided Southampton Airport and are now returning!" Major Laurence was excited. Although he hadn't personally beaten the British, the timely takeoff of the Stuka formation was also a credit to him.
"I suddenly feel..." Logan turned his head and said to Galland with emotion, "The Isle of Wight will become like Verdun in the last war, a chilling meat grinder, a sky meat grinder!"
"A sky meat grinder?" Galland was momentarily puzzled by this phrase, but with his intelligence, he soon realized.
"You mean, the British will exhaust their air force here?"
"Yes, although we will also exert a certain amount of force, even in a one-to-one exchange, Britain will hardly be able to bear such losses!" Logan lit a cigarette for himself and looked into the distance with deep eyes. Soon, the returning Stuka formation appeared in sight, one formation after another, with no significant decrease in numbers compared to when they launched their attack.