Bombers Moon

On April 1944, 4, the "close range shooting" operation, which lasted for nearly a year, came to an end.On April 19, Louis covered the American bomber to blow up the railway off the coast of Normandy, and all the planes returned safely without any casualties.It was Louie's last flight from Beacon Hill Air Force Base in his career. On April 4, he was transferred to London and entered the offices of the Air Force Special Service.

He didn't take much from Beacon Hill, clothes, documents, pictures of William and Chuck.Considering the four years the place had swallowed from him, a small suitcase was indeed too little luggage.The new residence that the Secret Service arranged for him was a quiet small apartment, simply furnished, on the ground floor of an old house from the 1880s that used to be the residence of a young medical student. Some.He put the picture of William and Chuck on the empty bookshelf, then changed his mind two days later and put it on the desk.The window of the apartment faced a small piece of grass and the corner of the path, silently looking at a street lamp.There are always cyclists passing by in the early morning, and the old world that Louis used to know seems within reach, but very far away.Because of strict confidentiality regulations, Louis could not leave the house at will, and he had to go through a body search when he went out, and he couldn't take a piece of paper out.

Louie spent most of his day in smoky conference rooms, windowless concrete boxes with lead plates embedded in the walls to prevent eavesdropping.Among the strange faces around the conference table, he only knew Georges Loiseau, but the two were just acquaintances, and there was no intersection after the meeting.The Allied landing plan was not yet fully formed, and the Royal Navy was still arguing with the Americans about the minutiae.And the Air Force - because everyone still clearly remembers the tragedy of Dunkirk four years ago - vowed to occupy the sky in absolute numbers.The task of the special service team was to "make magic", fly to France before the landing operation, drop metal sheets as in previous exercises, and blindfold the Nazi Luftwaffe.They will be the weakest link, if Me

If 109 focuses on it, the entire mission will be torched.The second lieutenant spent hour after hour at the conference table, proposing and rejecting various proposals.As May draws nearer, everyone is on edge, throwing tantrums over such trivial things as the phone ringing too loudly and the tea not hot enough.

The new apartment was so quiet that Louie sometimes couldn't sleep all night, staring at the revised plan under the lamp, and Chuck watched him in the picture frame.The photos on the clippings were too blurry, so Louie picked up the frame and gently wiped off a little dust on it.It was his private ghost, invisible but heavy on his shoulders.

The landing date is set for a certain day in May, and the exact time will not be announced until a few hours before the operation, so as not to leak the news.The Air Force Special Service has finally finalized the plans for Operation "Pay Tax" and Operation "Flash", which will be executed by Squadron 617 and Squadron 218 respectively. Take off on a scalp and pray for luck.

While the Anglo-American Joint Command was busy deploying reconnaissance planes, the landing date was postponed to a date in June, giving the RAF a little breathing room. In the early morning of June 6, the order was issued, and the landing was at 6:06 this morning.

It was a day of howling winds, and thick clouds rolled from the channel to the coast of Normandy, and did not disperse. The 617 Squadron drove the Lancaster bomber first, followed by the Stirling bomber of the 218 Squadron, and dropped "windows" at Calais and Cape Antivo respectively, creating a large number of fighters on the German radar to gather at Calais The illusion of the Strait.After blinding the radar, more than 1800 B-17 Flying Fortresses took off in batches from major air force bases in East Anglia, and flew to the four soon-to-be-known beaches accompanied by a larger number of escort planes.

Louie took off from Manston base in a brand new Spitfire 600 fighter jet.Manston used to be the base of [-] Squadron, but it was abandoned due to serious damage, and today it welcomes the fighter team again.The clouds over the strait are worrying. When he flew below the clouds, Louis' palms began to sweat. He kept looking up, afraid of the Me with the black cross.

109 suddenly appeared. According to the habits of the Nazi Air Force, there must be fighters like wild bees hiding in this kind of cloud.Below him, 5000 ships of the Royal Navy were rushing towards France, never to see the coastline of Normandy if Louis could not stop the Stuka bombers for them.

But nothing happened, no Me

109, no Stuka either.As far as Louis could see, the round bullseye of the Royal Air Force and the white star of the United States Army Air Forces.A little higher on the port side is a group of Mustang fighter jets, and the slower B-17 bombers are not far below.The wild horses accelerated upward, piercing the clouds.Louie watched them disappear, turned on the radio, and asked about the situation ahead.

Slight electrical noise. "Nothing, sir," reported a cheerful, youthful-sounding voice, "the most beautiful sky I've ever seen."

There was an excited murmur over the radio, and someone whistled.Louis climbed up, climbed above the clouds, and the blue sky spread out in front of him, and the rising sun painted a thin layer of pale rose on the clouds.He turned in a circle in disbelief and searched around. The Nazi Air Force did not come today, and maybe it will never fly over this sky again.He couldn't help laughing, and cleared his throat, trying to relieve the congested feeling in his throat. "You should really see this, Sergeant Sinclair," Louie said to the windshield, taking off the goggles and wiping his eyes with his gloved hand.

More planes climbed over the clouds and climbed into the clear blue sky.Mustang fighters and their big friends continue to penetrate the interior of France. Now that they are here, high-explosive bombs cannot be wasted.But the Spitfire was out of company, and Louis turned a corner, and the fighter sank into the clouds, back above the gray coast of Normandy.Fifteen thousand feet below, the battle on the beach had just begun.But for Louis, the war ended here.

-

On May 1945, 5, there was a ceasefire in Europe.

Louis? Linden retired on May 1945, 5, awarded the rank of captain.In early June, he returned to the Beacon Hill base, this time to pick up his younger brother.The small cemetery is neglected, the fences are down, the crosses are rotten.The coffin was dug up, placed in a hearse, and returned to Canterbury, where the funeral was repeated in the family chapel.Not many people attended, only parents and Uncle Albert who came back from Spain.

"My dear little ones." The uncle opened his arms as soon as he saw Louis, and took him into his arms. "You guys are amazing, and I'm glad it's over."

Louis smiled at his uncle's collar, but did not answer.

It was an overcast day, not raining, but a damp chill seeped through the woods and meadows.Louis put on a long coat over his black suit, still shivering from the cold.He deliberately stayed behind, and when everyone had left, he returned to the deserted cemetery.

He chose a cypress tree, in a hidden corner behind the chapel, not out of the way, not too conspicuous.He took one of the mud-stained shovels leaning against the wall, took off his overcoat, and began to dig a hole under the cypress tree.

The framed picture with the clippings was heavy in his pocket, and he took one last look at Chuck, wrapped the metal ornament in his handkerchief, put it in the pit, and buried it.He stood against the tree for a while afterward, trying to figure out what he was feeling, maybe nothing.

When the light rain began to fall, he too was gone, following the muddy path through the grass without looking back.

-

Throughout the summer, Louis lived at home, reading books, occasionally drawing sketches, and spending most of his time by the stream in a daze, not knowing what he was going to do next, nor thinking about it.Uncle Albert offered to introduce him to the Foreign Office. The British embassy in Paris just needed a defense counselor. Louis declined. After seeing the secret service command, he never wanted to set foot in any office.

He would also dream of the Beacon Hill base, and in his dreams, the time would always be the early summer of 1940.Chuck was there too, and his B-17 was always flying at eleven o'clock, which didn't make sense, but who wants to argue with dreams about rationality?There was William's voice on the radio channel, young and cheerful, even humming sometimes, and Louie had to tell him to shut up and not abuse the radio.

Then he woke up in the dark, not yet four in the morning, the night was still long.

After Christmas, Louis moved to London.The Lyndons had an apartment near Regent's Park, where my father used to live before retiring from the Naval Command.When Louis moved in, the house had been vacant for several years, and the dust sheets covering the furniture were covered with a thick layer of dust.Louie hid in this quiet empty nest like a chaffinch hid deep in a tree hollow.Except for the occasional RAF party, I don't come out at all.

Until the spring of 1946, someone knocked on the door.

It was ten in the morning, an awkward time for a visit, with breakfast just past and lunch still far away.Louis nestled in the study when he heard the footman go to open the door and talk softly to the visitor.After a while, the footman gently opened the study door and announced the visit of Captain Georges Loiseau.

This is far too unusual.Louis hastily fastened his tie, changed into a coat, and went into the living room.The valet had already served tea and refreshments, but Loiseau did not sit down, explaining that he was not living in London now, and that he did not have much time, so it was a pity that he could not enjoy the refreshments, but he just stopped by to bother him, in the name of the Royal Air Force. Make an invitation.

"What invitation?" Louis asked.

"I invite you to come to the Berlin base of the Royal Air Force." Loiseau took off his gloves and stuffed them into his coat pocket, "Of course you know what the situation is with the Soviets, right? The Berlin base needs star pilots like you, Lin Deng, guard a new front."

"I'm retired."

"No pilot ever actually retires, if you know what I mean."

"Maybe I will."

Loiseau just smiled, as if he could tell at a glance that Louis was not telling the truth.

"Give me some time to think about it."

"I'm going back to Berlin the day after tomorrow. If you've made up your mind, you know where to find me." Loiseau walked towards the gate, and the manservant opened the door before him. "Good day."