Six Hundred and Forty-Seven Crashed

A few seconds after the call, the captain of the German Butcher reconnaissance plane heard an angelic voice from the headset, and the duty officer at the command tower on the ground asked routinely: "I am the command tower, and there is currently no aircraft carrier of ours cruising near you. Approve your return flight...reconfirm, have you been harassed by enemy aircraft?"

It’s no wonder that the staff of these ground towers are slack. After all, the British would never take off their planes to intercept the German high-altitude reconnaissance planes. At an altitude of 10,000 meters, few fighter jets can compete with the butcher. Therefore, the crew members who carry out the task of reconnaissance Iceland and high-altitude photography often do not contact the ground tower once during the whole process, and the ground tower is also happy to be at ease.

"Bastards! We're not being harassed, we're being attacked! Attacked! They shattered my glass with a cannon and now my engine is smoking and the plane's wings are full of holes! Some of us got hurt... … Request support! Do you understand? Request support!” The captain wanted to arrest the person on duty and beat him up, but now all he could do was press the throat communicator and shout.

"Your request has been processed. I repeat. At present, there is no aircraft carrier fleet cruising near the incident site. I cannot send fighter jets to perform escort missions! Your application for returning to the voyage has been approved, and you are allowed to return to the voyage ahead of time!" Neither did the ground tower It's such a good solution, I can only repeat what I just said again and again in the same tone.

"God! Grothil! Grothil! He's not breathing! His blood is everywhere!" The co-pilot looked back at his comrade, the photographer who was shot, and found that the inner thigh was hit The unlucky guy no longer cried and shouted. He leaned on his seat, his hand supporting the wound drooped weakly, his head dangling back and forth with the vibration of the plane.

"Leave him alone, keep an eye on those two enemy planes, and find their positions, I can't see them anymore! I can't see them!" The captain was too lazy to argue with the ground control tower, he felt that in this situation It is more practical to save yourself.

"I can't see the other party's position, I can't see it!" The co-pilot searched for the positions of the two fighter jets with terrifying speed, but he really couldn't find the two British fighter jets that looked like death.

"The nose turret did not find the target, maybe they are behind us." The gunner at the nose confirmed his observation with the intercom: "They are not in front of us!"

"They weren't behind us either! Nothing was found in the tail turret of the plane! But two holes were punched in the glass around me, and the steel plate under my feet was punctured. God forbid, I was almost killed." The gunner at the tail replied with lingering fear, and confirmed that there was no shadow of the enemy plane in his direction.

"It seems that they have left. Maybe we flew out of their range." In the rotating turret on the back of the plane, the gunner looked around before speaking.

I hope so,

The captain thought with some fear. He looked at the huge engine that was still smoking outside the cockpit, and shook his head helplessly: his plane can't stand being ravaged like this again, so it's best that those two planes never come back to attack again They died, or they would be wearing life jackets in the freezing waters of the North Atlantic waiting for the submarine to retrieve their bodies.

"Fly back! Go back!" the captain said helplessly, and then drove the plane back to the British mainland. Everyone on the plane didn't know why the two terrifying new British fighter jets let them go, and it wasn't until a long, long time later that the battle was revealed to the world with declassified documents.

On the other hand, the two latest British jet fighters, the Meteor fighters, are on their way back at a very fast speed. The pilot who was driving the lead plane was the test pilot major who was willing to die for the British Empire. At this time, the cockpit of his wingman was full of smoke, and he could no longer see the situation inside.

"Cough cough! Cough cough!" The wingman pilot's continuous coughing sound can still be heard in the headset, which proves that the pilot inside has not lost his life, but his situation is obviously not optimistic, because the smoke has obviously made his The situation was very bad, and he was in danger of suffocation at any time.

"Mr. Major! Cough Cough Cough Cough! Sir! I can't hold on anymore! I may not be able to fly back to the base! Let me parachute!" The wingman pilot is also a veteran who survived the homeland war and has very rich combat experience. He once shot down a German-217 bomber and also shot down a fw-190d fighter. He is a pilot with rich experience in air combat.

Because of the loss of the homeland, the training and replenishment system of British pilots has collapsed, and there are only a handful of veteran pilots with record left, each of whom is a very precious invisible wealth. So when new jet fighters came into service, the British government of Iceland put the best pilots for them.

The only pity is that the reliability of this kind of aircraft is too low. When the troops were equipped on the first day, one crashed due to a mechanical failure, which reduced the number of aircraft in the hands of the British Jet Interceptor Force by three. one-third. Yes, you heard it right, one third! Only three of these meteor fighters were equipped with troops, and the remaining two almost shot down a butcher reconnaissance plane in this air battle.

The pity is that now another plane has malfunctioned, causing this attack mission to come to nothing. Now the pilot of the wingman is working hard to rescue this precious new fighter, but obviously his efforts have failed, and now he is exhausted. The thick smoke roasted him, making his head a little unclear.

"Sir, I want to go home! Ahem!" In the headset, the voice of the wingman pilot became weaker and weaker.

"We're going to fly over the airport soon! Turn off the engine and taxi! Please call back!" The major pilot replied with a frown. The wingman behind him is his friend for many years. The brutal British air battles did not kill this old friend. Now a new fighter jet malfunction is about to take the pilot's life.

"I mean my home in Yorktown (there is such a ghost place in the UK and the US). I want to go back and see there... cough cough cough cough... dammit, I'm having trouble breathing!" the wingman pilot seemed to say He was talking about something, but his voice became weaker and weaker, and the major pilot in the lead plane could no longer hear what his friend was saying clearly.

"I have to skydive! God! I have to skydive! I have to get out of this damn place!" Suddenly, the wingman shouted hysterically, his voice startled the major pilot, and then the major pilot saw his plane The wingman cabin next to it was pulled away forcefully from inside.

"We have reached the air above the airport! Hold on for a few more seconds and you will be able to land! My friend! Hold on!" The major pleaded with his comrades, hoping that he could keep the precious plane.

"..." No one answered his prayer, because he had already seen the wingman plummet to the ground. The frightening thing was that the pilot hadn't jumped out of the cabin at all, thick smoke spewed out from the open cockpit, and then the flames met the wind outside, and rushed out with a whistling sound.

The jet staggered towards the Icelandic coastline, where it crashed in shallow water. The wreckage of the plane was discovered by the British beach watch force, and personnel from the Air Force rushed to the scene of the accident.

When the major rushed to the scene of the incident after landing at the airport, the medical staff were carrying the body of the wingman pilot onto the jeep. The face of the body was blackened by smoke, and the clothes on his body were also burned by the flames that sprang up later. Part of it is broken. The pilot who once shot down a German fighter jet with a backward plane failed to escape a mechanical accident and died on the way back.

"Where's the plane? Can it still be used?" The major's face was expressionless, showing no sadness or joy. He turned around and asked an engineering technician behind him in a deep voice: "My friend shouldn't have died in vain."

"The entire cockpit was destroyed by fire. I don't know if there is any need for repairs on this plane, but in my opinion, even if this plane is repaired, no one dares to continue to fly it to fight." Spreading his hands helplessly, he said, "What's more, one of the engines hit the dirt first, and flew over there with half of the wing... It is certain that it will be scrapped."

Still haven't been able to save the plane. The major pilot smiled wryly, and then said to the other pilot who followed: "As a pilot of the British Empire, I just want to ask you, are you willing to continue to fly this kind of aircraft and fight to defend the airspace of the British Empire?"

"I will, sir!" replied the young pilot, standing at attention, his expression full of English enthusiasm. A super empire that has lasted for a hundred years will not lack loyal warriors when it falls. Fanaticism is not the patent of a certain country, it is the courage of patriots in every country.

"With you, Britain will never fall!" The major stood at attention solemnly in return, and then looked at the engineer: "Did you hear what he said? We dare to take off to face the enemy with our lives, please upgrade The performance of the aircraft, don't let patriotic pilots sacrifice in vain!"

The engineer smiled helplessly, walked towards the wreckage of the plane without saying a word, but sighed bitterly in his heart: "If possible, I also want to make the plane more reliable, but we really can't do it what……"