Bombers Moon

In mid-November 1942, the Allied Forces' "Operation Torch" in North Africa came to an end. The birds that had flown out of various air bases in the UK earlier returned to their nests—partially, to be precise, some forever left in the desert.

So here's the situation Lt. Louis Linden faced in late 1942: A swarm of graffiti-covered American bombers suddenly overwhelmed Beacon Hill Field, each with its own rambunctious young crew members in Army Air Corps baggy jackets .Meanwhile, Kindergarten sent in a group of recruits with few flying hours to replace those lost at the Battle of Dieppe in August.The task of training these newcomers naturally fell on Lieutenant Linden.The cloudy weather since the beginning of winter has made the strait very dangerous, and many patrols and bombing missions have been cancelled, but it has provided the new birds with the opportunity to practice near the base.Louie often got up early in the morning and directed the recruits to drag the huge balloon used for shooting practice to the foggy countryside.

The U.S. Air Force seems to have other plans. The Eighth Bomber Command was reorganized. The original commander Ecke was promoted to the commander-in-chief of the Army Air Forces, and the one who succeeded Ecke in charge of the Bomber Command became Major General Anderson.Day bombing continued in theory, but became intermittent due to bad weather and growing RAF misgivings.Now and then Louie saw the bomber with the lion painted on it sullenly parked at the end of the runway, getting ready to take off but never taking off.

During the last month of 1942, Chuck was like a buck in a hunting ground.Neither showed up in the mess hall nor went to the officer's bar.Only the signature on the attendance sheet proves that he is still in Beacon Hill.Louis wanted to visit the bar of the ground staff several times, but immediately convinced himself to give up the idea.

It doesn't make any sense, he listed this reason, not meeting is the best way, don't make things more complicated.

The problem is that his brain isn't that obedient.Louis stopped unconsciously several times, looking at the sergeant on the other side of the hangar through the busy mechanics and four or five fighter jets.Louie was familiar with Chuck's two little satellites, a short, energetic gunner who talked and gesticulated.The navigator, on the other hand, was always on the sidelines, keeping a little distance from Chuck, but never far away.Like other American bomber pilots, Chuck always wore a brown leather jacket with a sherpa lining, which continued to expand his silhouette for a tall man.Chuck didn't know what to say, and Jody laughed and slapped his thigh hard.

"...sir," said the ground crew standing next to him.Louis came back to his senses, and was embarrassed to find that he hadn't heard the first half of the other party's sentence, so he had to ask again.The other party repeated the parameters and walked away after getting approval.Louis looked to the other side of the hangar again, just in time to meet Chuck's gaze, the second lieutenant quickly looked away, grabbed a pen and clipboard, and left the hangar.

You said it yourself, not a lover.Later that day, Louie reminded himself, curled up in bed, wrapped in two blankets, because the heat in the dormitory was nearly off.The French novel he had spent so much time on was spread out on the bed, and it might not be the right time to read tonight.He put the book back on the desk, turned off the light, and lay down, curling up tightly to preserve some body heat.

The weather in February did not improve, but the bomber fleet at Bieken Hill still received orders to attack the German mainland one after another, because the Americans promised Churchill at the Casablanca meeting on January 1 that they would "invest more" and apparently intended to keep it Commitment, oil refineries and bearing factories are the primary targets, and Berlin has also become one of the targets out of consideration for exerting psychological pressure.The joint operations plan that the officers had speculated earlier did not emerge, and the RAF and its American friends continued to work independently. The only move that had anything to do with "cooperation" was the sending of Spitfire squadrons to escort the B23 bombers.American pilots joked privately that it was little better than standing on the runway waving handkerchiefs farewell, because the fighter jets had limited range and had to turn back to the French coast, leaving the bombers alone to face the anti-aircraft guns and the Luftwaffe ahead.

The clouds parted briefly, and the outline of the Brittany Peninsula could be seen in the distance through the gap.Louie switched on the radio: "Captain Spitfire calling Captain Bomber."

There was an electrical noise, and then Chuck's businesslike voice: "Bomber captain, please speak."

Louis glanced down the starboard side, where Chuck's B17 was, followed by a whole group of heavy bombers lined up neatly, flat steel whales in the sea of ​​clouds. "This is the limit of the fire-breathing range, return in 2 minutes."

"The escort plane will leave in 2 minutes, understand. All units pay attention, the escort plane will leave in 2 minutes. Scouts and machine gunners wake up, beware of enemy planes and anti-aircraft guns, over."

"Wish you guys good luck."

"Thank you, sir."

Come back safely.Louis weighed this sentence, but finally did not say it.

Sixteen Spitfires made a beautiful semicircle, separated from the bomber fleet, and returned.

When we returned to the base of Beacon Mountain, the thick clouds had drifted slowly to the south, bringing cold rain and lightning to Spain, like a piece of moldy velvet slowly slipping down, revealing the long-lost blue sky.Sunny weather is both a blessing and a curse. While the accuracy of bombing is guaranteed, the casualties caused by enemy anti-aircraft guns will also increase.For fighter pilots, the mission was far from over. Louis paced back and forth in the lounge, still wearing a bloated life jacket and umbrella bag, constantly looking at his watch to calculate the return time.On bad days, angry Me

109 will be lurking on the northwestern coast of France, waiting for the American bombers that have been beaten up by anti-aircraft guns to return, and then jumping down from the clouds.

Today is one of those days.

Four minutes after the distress signal was sent, the fire-breathing team that replenished the fuel had already taken off again. According to the current speed, they could intercept the German pursuers behind the bomber team over the strait.According to the report from the radar station, a bomber was chased off course and was flying to the northwest, but the 4 Squadron at Hornchurch Base had sent four Hurricanes to rescue the lost bird.Louie checked the altitude and continued east with five Spitfires.

When the bomber team entered the field of view, Louis gave the order to continue to maintain the altitude, and then went around to the right rear of the enemy plane before starting to dive.The sun provided the best cover, and when the flame-breathing Browning guns roared, the Me

It was not until 109 that reinforcement planes arrived. Me

109 The thick steel plate blocked this round of shooting, and the Spitfire had to find an opportunity to re-climb and regain a favorable position.Louis' plan was to lure the enemy planes into a dogfight, thereby creating opportunities for the bombers to escape. Unfortunately, the opponents did not bite the bait and continued to pursue the B17 bomber.

Louis wanted to find Chuck's plane, but quickly gave up. The sky was in chaos, with machine gun bullets flying across and the wake left by single-seat fighter jets.A bomber's rear turret fires, Me

109 flew obliquely to the right and dodged. The bullet almost accidentally injured the Spitfire following behind.In Louis's eleven o'clock direction, two German planes bit behind a B17, and Louis opened fire without hesitation, driving them off.

A familiar pattern flashed past the edge of vision.

Louis made a half-turn, searched the sea, and finally found the B17 bomber with a lion painted on it. Chuck was flying low against the water. It was too low. Looking from a high altitude, it seemed that he would be overturned by the waves at any time.a Me

109 flew on the left side, looking for shooting opportunities, but did not dare to get too close to the sea.Louis pushed the joystick forward and dived into the sea.

Me

109 quickly discovered the menacing British fighter plane, seized the last chance to fire on the bomber, and then climbed rapidly. Louis immediately adjusted the angle, cut off the upward curve of the enemy plane, and fired at the fuel tank. Me

109 continued to struggle to climb for a while, lost power, and fell headfirst into the sea.

The left wing of the bomber was damaged, the flames could be seen, and a long black smoke was drawn, but the bomber was able to maintain its balance.Louis watched Chuck slowly pull up the altitude, a little bit away from the dangerous water surface, and flew steadily towards the direction of Beacon Mountain.The rest of the bombers followed in sporadic ways, evacuating under the cover of fighters.

Louie's team eventually lost a plane, but the pilot parachuted in time, and Louie sent his coordinates to the radar station, and if all goes well, a fishing boat would be here to pick him up soon.He searched the sky to make sure there were no raiders, and then he turned on the radio and gave the order for all to return.

The bulky bomber flew slower than the Spitfire, and the first B17 appeared in the cloudless sky more than ten minutes after the fighter team landed on Biegan Mountain.Louie stood at the hangar door, watching Chuck's bomber land. The machine gun damage was obvious from his vantage point. The outer steel plates had been lifted to reveal the inner wing ribs.The ground crew jumped on the truck painted with a red cross on a white background and rushed towards it.

Louie stayed where he was, leaning against the door.Chuck climbed out of the cockpit, said something to the ground crew, took off his leather jacket, and walked towards the hangar. When he saw Louis, he froze for a moment, then quickened his pace and started to trot.

The ensign fled before he could cross the tarmac.