"Auntie Juncker" does have the ability to fly directly from White Island to Berlin. However, Logan's group was still arranged to transfer planes in Lille, near the German-French border. Before boarding, Logan noticed from afar that this brand new Ju-90 had a huge eagle emblem painted on the side, and the red base on the tail with the white characters "Reichsmarschall" (Marshal of the Empire) was particularly eye-catching. Could this be the legendary aircraft of the Supreme Command?
As soon as they entered the cabin, they immediately felt the stark contrast with the previous Ju-52: the spacious cabin was covered with thick red carpet, the walls were completely covered with oak-colored panels, each porthole was carefully decorated, and light gray curtains were added. Large seats faced each other in pairs, with a small wooden round table in the middle for tea, chatting, or playing cards during the flight.
"Hey, Colonel!"
A guy wearing a tilted military cap waved to Logan. Who else but Adolf Göring would have such a handsome little mustache?
"Hey, Adolf, when did you arrive?" Logan walked over with his briefcase. Although this guy hadn't risen to become the top ace of the German Air Force on active duty, his outstanding performance in the Battle of White Island was enough to earn him the honor of receiving personal commendation from the Führer - around him, there were six air force officers, familiar or unfamiliar, all of them were big shots or small shots who performed excellently in the Battle of White Island.
"Ten minutes before you guys!" Göring also smiled. He must be looking forward to his reward.
The Air Force captain sitting opposite Göring stood up early to give his seat to Logan.
"Thank you! Captain Hepfner!" Logan remembered him. He was a squadron leader under Göring and had a mediocre record before joining the Battle of White Island. In just ten days, he joined the "20 Club" of the German Air Force after a few combats, making him one of the biggest beneficiaries of the "Fortress Plan". So in a sense, it was him who should be thanked.
"You're too kind, Colonel!" The young flying ace smiled brightly.
Logan sat down comfortably, "With so many aces gathered together, it's really dazzling!"
Indeed, each of them had at least one Iron Cross medal hanging on their chests. Since the Western Campaign, the number of people awarded medals in the German military had greatly increased - but not to the point of flooding, and compared to the army and the air force bomber units, the achievements of fighter pilots and submarine captains were the most quantifiable.
"Colonel, what would you like to drink?"
A well-proportioned, well-dressed male flight attendant in Bundeswehr uniform politely asked as he walked to Logan's side.
"Tea!" Logan glanced at him casually. In this environment, shouldn't there be stewardesses in skirts to match!
"Sure! Would anyone else like some more coffee?" He then politely asked the others, his gaze following the rank order.
"Another cup for me. Um... everyone else wants one too!" Göring picked up his delicate porcelain cup. It was so delicate that soldiers accustomed to drinking straight from the bottle could finish it in one gulp.
"Okay, please wait a moment!"
The voice was a bit effeminate, which Logan didn't particularly like.
After the special passengers were all in place, the handsome and young flight attendant closed the cabin door firmly. With a slight roar, the propellers of the aircraft began to spin rapidly through the portholes.
So, Göring couldn't help but comment with emotion, "The Supreme Command's aircraft are indeed much quieter and more comfortable than our cabins!"
"It's like comparing a luxury car to a motorcycle, totally different functions. They're not interchangeable!"
As he said this, Logan suddenly thought of Dolly and Quilly. You can't have your cake and eat it too. These shu girls and lolis are each unique and incompatible. If it came down to having to choose one in the end, what would he choose?
He had a headache, a real headache.
If Logan knew that his unmarried status had already begun to attract the attention of the top echelons of Germany, he would probably have even more headaches!
After a long taxi, the Ju-90 with four engines smoothly left the ground. Göring drank coffee and asked softly, "Colonel, we're all curious, will the British surrender before we launch a full-scale attack?"
Logan had thought about this question countless times. He shook his head calmly, "No! They shouldn't!"
Göring continued softly, "Then what's next? Are we going to land in Britain?"
"Hehe, that's something for the High Command to decide. We... just wait for orders!" Logan said, although he was already considering the prospect of a large-scale invasion of Britain. Based on reconnaissance information from the air, the British have been destroying facilities at the ports of Southampton and Portsmouth in the past few days. They used old ships to block the channels and set up new anti-landing steel frames and ambush positions in relatively low-lying coastal areas. The army artillery has also withdrawn to areas further inland from the coastline.
How to break through the British ironclad formation and how to utilize the role of paratroopers, Logan had been pondering for a long time. All the answers were already in the briefcase he carried with him, but this plan was far from satisfactory to him!
"Ha, I'm not worried anyway!" Göring laughed, "How about we make another bet? 300 planes?"
"300 planes?" Logan picked up his delicate porcelain teacup, "Hmm... I believe that in less than a month, your squadron will be able to reach that number. Two boxes of cigars!"
"Okay, if we can't reach that number within a month, I'll owe you two boxes of cigars!" Göring confidently agreed, "One word is for sure!"
Logan placed the bet and then turned to the serious topic, "After the previous phase of combat, do you think our aircraft have the possibility of severely damaging those battleships of the British main fleet?"
"The fighters definitely can't do it!" Göring turned to look at the second Air Force captain on his right, "You can ask our western front artillery bird - Captain Karl Fünard. Four days ago, his squadron sank that British cruiser, and the last bomb was dropped by him personally!"
"Oh! Sorry, I didn't notice you just now, Captain Fünard! We met the day before yesterday!" Logan reached out his hand proactively. In the past week, there have been 23 squadrons of fighter and dive-bomber units stationed at various airports on White Island. This 29-year-old Air Force captain seemed to have a more introverted personality and always liked to keep himself hidden in the corner, so he didn't attract much attention. But it is said that in terms of flying skills, he is already a ace in Richte Hoffen's hands!
After shaking hands, Captain Fünard said seriously, "At an altitude of 3000 meters, with 1000-pound aerial armor-piercing bombs, as long as there are enough numbers and the bombing is accurate, sinking any battleship is no problem!"
This statement attracted the attention of those around him, but Logan didn't care. He nodded while thinking to himself, "Would torpedoes or dive bombing be more effective?"
The blond captain with a serious expression said, "I think... the effect of launching a joint attack would be the best! But before launching combat, it's best to let the pilots undergo long-term training together! Moreover, those who are used to attacking land targets, air force pilots will have significant deviations when attacking sea targets. It took us several bombings to adapt!"
Logan nodded as he remembered this. He thought to himself, "Wouldn't it be better to add some submarines?"
Although the Ju-90's flying speed was not faster than the Ju-52, the smooth flight made people ignore the concept of time to a certain extent. Unconsciously, the plane began to descend gently. Logan looked out of the porthole absentmindedly. Oh, the majestic capital of the empire had arrived. It was so prosperous and beautiful when it wasn't bombed by the Allies. The winding Spree River and the Havel Canal passed through the city like two blue ribbons, under the sunlight, the rising buildings highlighted the creativity and vitality of this nation. On the streets, the bustling crowds were enough to make any European city proud, and there were all kinds of "antique cars", which in Logan's original time could only be seen in museums.
After the expansion in the 1930s, Berlin Airport had already become the largest in Germany with the most advanced facilities. Affected by the war, the number of foreign aircraft taking off and landing here had greatly decreased, but there were still many domestic flights. In the sight, a plane was still taxiing. The other two seemed to have just landed, as for those brown "mounds" around the airport, they should be newly deployed anti-aircraft guns!
One by one, the smooth cement runways were naturally incomparable to those makeshift airfields on White Island. As the plane continued to descend, it was already possible to discern which runway it would soon taxi onto. Suddenly, Logan realized that at the end of the runway, there was a densely packed crowd on the apron. Could it be... thousands of onlookers?
Who could be arriving today?
Um...
Logan took a deep breath, glancing at the officers gathered around the porthole. In wartime, was there anyone else besides heroes who could attract such public attention?
Logan knew that with casualties on the front lines and relative scarcity of resources in the rear, morale among both military and civilians needed to be maintained through some special means, such as promoting national spirit and establishing heroic images. Historically, many believed that the title "God of War" bestowed upon Rommel was exaggerated, and the German high command was merely using it to promote the superiority of the Germanic people. Figures like Erich Hartmann, Michael Wittmann, and Otto Kretschmer, as air ace, tank ace, and U-boat ace respectively, were all tools used during the war to boost morale and public support!
Given Logan's current situation, going the idol route was indeed the most suitable! Well, if this was a form of "fake propaganda," then let it come on even stronger!
As the cabin door opened, a deafening roar of cheers flooded in. Logan adjusted his collar and, with a dignified posture, stepped out of the cabin first, waving to the cheering crowd with a smile full of warmth and charm!
This was the youngest colonel of the Empire! People in the crowd whispered to each other. Perhaps soon, he would become the youngest general in the Empire, with limitless prospects...