"Darn it! Darn it! Darn it!"
Logan's fists pounded heavily on the wall three times in a row. Originally hoping for good news of the British aircraft carrier being heavily damaged, what he heard instead was the dreadful news that eighty percent of the second wave of attack aircraft had been lost. How could the young commander, who had previously achieved remarkable feats and had been so adept in strategy, not be stirred?
Sixty-nine combat planes were shot down, and without exception, all were twin-engine aircraft with long range. Even the German pilots parachuting far from the German-controlled area had no hope of rescue now!
At this moment, the German submarine group was still over a hundred kilometers away from the British aircraft carrier formation. If those British aircraft carriers continued their rapid northward retreat, they wouldn't even catch a glimpse of the enemy!
"Sir, headquarters has sent the combat code. The third wave of attack aircraft has already departed!" the communication officer nervously reported, walking over.
Continuing the attack would be a gamble, but perhaps many would choose this path. Logan gritted his teeth, resisting the immense sense of loss and frustration in his heart, and firmly ordered, "Send a message to cancel the attack!"
The communication officer hesitated, glancing at Lindemann, the army lieutenant general, who looked bewildered and showed no reaction.
"Yes, sir!"
The communication officer walked slowly to the adjacent communication room, giving the young Imperial Colonel time to reconsider, but the expected change of mind did not occur.
To be able to grasp, one must also be able to let go; to attack requires boldness, and retreat allows no room for doubt.
Logan rarely achieved this, but as waves of frustration hit him, he suddenly slumped into the chair in despair: sixty-nine aircraft. Nearly two hundred pilots. The German Air Force couldn't afford such losses, and Hans Logan had already won half of this battle, so this setback was even more unacceptable.
The internal conflict stemmed from the unwillingness to yield in tactical confrontations and, more so, from the defeat of the "modern man" by the "ancients." But no matter how hard Logan racked his brains, he couldn't think of an immediate way to turn the tide—the British Royal Air Force and Navy's joint ambush would cause as many losses as the German planes sent, even if the bf109s disregarded their range limitations.
He lost, straightforwardly and solidly.
"Walter!" Logan called the name of the Air Force communication officer.
A tall, blond lieutenant immediately walked over from the adjacent communication room and stood at attention. "Sir!"
"Inform the Supreme Command and the High Command by encrypted telegraph!" Logan coughed and said heavily, "Given that the British Royal Air Force has set up an aerial ambush in the Irish Sea, resulting in heavy losses to the Imperial Air Force, Operation Shark Hunt is temporarily suspended! Colonel Hans Logan, the operational commander of this mission, bears the primary responsibility for this failure, but the Imperial Army troops parachuted and landed in Cardiff are now facing unprecedented difficulties. I earnestly request that Colonel Logan continue to stay in Cardiff, fighting side by side with the Imperial soldiers, fearlessly facing life and death. After the battle ends, I am willing to relinquish all military positions and accept any higher-level decisions!"
Each word felt like a blow to his heart.
In his eyes, tears were welling up.
Everyone in the command room, including Lieutenant General Lindemann, looked at this once triumphant young Air Force colonel with astonished eyes. After all, he was only twenty-seven years old this year!
In the entire Germany, how many people could achieve such feats at the age of twenty-seven? And how many could have such perseverance and determination to shoulder everything?
Behind the astonishment was a perplexed admiration.
After recording, the Air Force communication officer confirmed with Logan again, exceptionally cautiously.
"Send it!" Logan seemed to have exhausted all his strength, and his final words became weak.
"Colonel, has the situation really reached that point?"
Lindemann finally became the first and only one to step forward and persuade.
"The entire Operation Sea Wrath plan is like an interlocking iron chain. As long as each link is successfully implemented, we will use this iron chain to successfully bind the British. But if any one link goes wrong..." Logan shook his head, "Although this metaphor is not particularly apt, the situation is indeed very grim! We will face the encirclement of the British aircraft carrier formation and the H fleet. You, me, and the over 20,000 soldiers deployed in Cardiff will all face unprecedented challenges!"
"I am not afraid of challenges; I only hope to win the final victory!"
Logan turned his head and saw Lindemann standing before him in the posture of an Imperial soldier. For a moment, the image of the army was immensely profound and glorious...
After the telegram was sent, it was a suppressive wait.
One cigarette, then another; one pack, then another.
Twenty minutes later, the staff officer came to report that the bf-110 that had spotted the British aircraft carrier formation had returned heavily damaged, claiming to have shot down four Spitfires and two Hurricanes. They also discovered that the main bases for the British fighter groups were in Liverpool and Blackburn.
Initially, the thought crossed Logan's mind: were these two guys British spies? But upon further thought, it didn't make sense for them to draw such attention to themselves if they were spies, especially with bullet holes on their aircraft that couldn't have been arranged beforehand.
However, claiming to shoot down six British fighters with a bf-110, in addition to the one shot down earlier, the pilot was either a madman or a lunatic!
Suppressing his impatience, Logan instructed the staff officer to bring them to the command headquarters.
While the German Air Force postponed its attack, the British were not idle. Shortly thereafter, 22 British carrier-based aircraft, mainly Swordfish torpedo bombers, suddenly appeared over Cardiff and dropped bombs on the airport and docks, their swift and cunning actions truly matching their name!
Fortunately, the German soldiers had been on guard against various forms of enemy attacks since the landing began. Apart from two ships unloading at the docks being damaged, this round of British assault did not cause any other significant destruction.
Before long, two young German Air Force pilots—a pilot and a crew member, to be precise—appeared before Logan, dusty and weary.
"Wilhelm von Borning, Air Force Second Lieutenant!"
"Kamal Storz, Air Force Corporal!"
"In previous dogfights, it's difficult for a Messerschmitt 110 to win against a Hurricane in a one-on-one situation, let alone a Spitfire! So, how did you manage to shoot down four Spitfires and two Hurricanes?" Logan asked, with his hands behind his back, in as calm a tone as possible.
"With stubborn will and courageous courage!" the Air Force lieutenant quoted a German proverb.
"And more practically?" Logan further inquired.
"When we arrived at the battlefield, they were preparing to return, so we kicked their asses hard! Of course, sir, one Spitfire was shot down by Kamal with his machine gun while it was chasing us. He's quite clever!" The Air Force lieutenant stood erect, like a sturdy pine tree, and in the entire command room, only Logan seemed to be "showing his age."
"Kicking their asses?" Logan pondered over this phrase, vaguely feeling that it harbored the turning point of the battle, but for a moment, he couldn't find a way to capitalize on it.
"Sir, although Wilhelm is reckless, his aerial combat skills are top-notch!" Finally, the short Air Force sergeant spoke, his words carrying a mixed reputation but sounding particularly sincere.
"Do you know how many planes we lost in the past hour?" Logan suddenly asked.
"Well... although we don't know the exact number, we saw many comrades shot down by the British! We avenged our squadron leader, sir, and I hope to continue to fight! To avenge everyone!" The young Air Force lieutenant looked serious, but there was a hint of determination in his eyes. Was this the true color of a traditional soldier?
The heart that had sunk into an ice valley began to beat again, and Logan's complexion eased considerably, but he had to tell the young men, "A report has just come from the airport. Your aircraft has been destroyed in the British bombardment. I can send a seaplane to take you to France!"
"Of course!" the lieutenant replied without hesitation.
Logan looked at him with some surprise.
"That way, we can get a new fighter and go kick the British's asses again!" The lieutenant said with a straight face. "Sir, I request that Kamal continue to serve as my machine gunner. Although this peasant-born fellow has a stubborn temper, his skills are excellent, and his mind is sharp!"
Logan laughed, amused by this simple guy, and his smile in times of trouble was particularly rare.
"Lant, when will the aircraft for transporting wounded depart?"
"Anytime!" replied the Navy lieutenant commander.
"Off you go! Brave eagles in the sky!" Saying this, Logan's mood suddenly became generous: sometimes, overly complicated thoughts would only lead one into a dead end.
Before leaving, the short one suddenly asked Logan, "Sir! We heard from a captain at the airport that you would apply for a medal for us because we spotted the British aircraft carrier?"
Before Logan could answer, the Air Force lieutenant quietly scolded his companion, "You stupid peasant, how dare you ask the commander like that?"
The sergeant's face turned bright red.
Although he had now become a "mud bodhisattva," Logan still earnestly told them, "Rest assured, I will mention this in the report to my superiors! Anyway, thank you for your contributions to this battle!"
"Thank you, sir!" Wilhelm thanked him politely, then grabbed his companion and followed the Navy officer assigned by Lant to the dock.
"What an interesting pair of partners!" Lindemann walked to Logan's side and said, "I envy your youth and simplicity! As one gets older, there are more things to worry about, and one can no longer find the agility and enthusiasm of the past!"
"Is that so?" Logan touched his head again. Well, fortunately, his hair hadn't diminished during this time.
It took three hours for the reply to come after the telegram was sent.
When he opened the telegram folder, Logan's heart beat at a frequency unprecedentedly high. As he scanned the words lightly, he almost jumped up:
"The failure of Operation Shark Hunt is regrettable, but I believe Colonel Hans Logan is fully capable of leading the great German warriors to win the final victory. Signed: Adolf Hitler."
Two minutes later, the communication officer brought another encrypted telegram, this time in the name of Air Force Commander-in-Chief Hermann Goering: "Nominated by the Führer, and decided by the Air Force Command, Colonel Hans Logan is promoted to the rank of Imperial Air Force Major General, effective immediately."
Two minutes later, the communication officer brought another telegram from the Operation Sea Wrath Command Headquarters: "Appointing Major General Hans Logan as the Deputy Commander of the Cardiff Operations, fully commanding the Imperial Air Force and Navy units in the Cardiff area, as well as the army units that have landed there! "
Looking at these words, tears streamed down Logan's face.