[World War II] Thousands of Miles in the Sky

, flicked it on the ashtray.Raul took a sip from his beer glass.

"Gunther," Illerman said suddenly, "it's rare that you're not in a place where the regiment dogs are."

"Abducted by Gernhardt." Raul replied, "He likes to walk the dog, let him slip away. At worst, I took the opportunity to drink his beer."

As soon as Raul finished speaking, a young man walked in without warning.He wore a black leather jacket with air force epaulets, a confident smile on his face under his officer's cap, and a knight's iron cross with a sword and diamonds hanging from the collar of his white shirt.

"Heil Hitler!" Raul quickly slapped the cards in his hand on the table, stood up and raised his right arm and shouted, hitting the wooden chair behind him shaking and almost falling over.Compared with serious salutes, his exaggerated gestures were more ironic.

"Heil Hitler." The man smiled and raised his right hand in return, then lowered his arm and looked at the card game in the middle of the wooden table, "Are you playing Skater?"

"Is bridge coming?" Kupinski asked.

"Come on." The man said, and he sat naturally on the empty seat opposite Illerman.Kupinski took the hand of cards from Illerman, put the cards in his hand with those on the table, and began to shuffle the cards.

"Let's take a shot?" Raul had already sat back and said with the beer in his hand.

"I don't drink, Gunther." The man curled his lips.

"Haptman, Haptman," Lauer sighed, "It's a long way to persuade him to drink. It's really hard to serve! Well, fortunately, I have prepared for it." As he spoke, he took out two bottles of soda from under the table Soda, give it to Haptman.

"Ask every time," Haptman said, holding a bottle of soda in his hand, picking up the corkscrew on the table, and prying off the cap, "you are really patient."

"Who knows you might be influenced by me one day." Raul said.

"Just dream, Gunther." Kupinski gathered the playing cards in his hand into a pile, knocked them on the table sideways, and then began to divide the cards, "Hans, this is Dieter. Dieter , this is Hans."

"What are you doing!" Raul frowned, "No momentum at all! Hans, this is the hero Dieter Illermann who we shot down 270 times, kid, this is the squadron leader of the [-]rd Squadron of the [-]nd Battle Wing , Hans Hauptmann!"

Illerman couldn't help laughing: "What a hero, if you haven't been on a mission since May, my record of shooting down is still far behind you."

"Finally got over the infection after the injury?" Haptman looked away from the playing cards in his hand, "Here, let me see."

Raul easily put his left hand in front of Hauptmann.The skin on his gnarled hand was pale, the thumb was severed at the root, the wound had healed smooth, and only the remaining four fingers remained.There are light-colored scratches and scars on the joints of the little finger and ring finger, and the blue blood vessels on the back of the hand are clearly visible under the light.

"The squadron leader of the No. 52 Squadron of the dignified [-]nd Regiment was shot down by the Americans, and he made it like this," Haputman joked, "It's really ugly."

Raul was not angry, but just raised the corners of his mouth and replied: "No way, although the American pilots are stupid, they can't hold them as many as flies. It's not as lucky as you, and you can take the Soviet national hero Lev Schess casually. Tarkov was dragged to death."

"Where is it?" Haptman watched Raul withdraw his hand, "I flew so low in March that I almost hit my head on a tree."

"Gunther, haven't you been studying the American Mustang fighter jets in the rear recently?" Kupinski interjected while playing cards.

"That's right, where is the wild horse," Raul replied, "It's like a royal horse. It's spacious, warm, and even protected by thick armor."

"It's really luxurious." Illerman couldn't help sighing.

"The Americans didn't come to fight at all," Raul continued, "they just came to spend money on the war. Apart from ample supplies, what skills do they have? In terms of flying skills, they are far inferior to the British. During the Battle of Britain At that time, those British pilots were so good!"

"The Soviets are not bad." Haputman nodded. "For example, Shestakov. They are good opponents."

"It's like you fight air-to-air battles every day." Raul said, "I don't know you yet? You are responsible for holding shells and hitting whatever you see on the top, just avoiding anti-aircraft guns."

"Let's wait until you can see what hits and hits [-] tanks." Kupinski said.Then he turned to Haptman and asked, "Or two hundred?"

"Three hundred." Haptman replied.

"Isn't it still two hundred in March?" Kupinsky shook his head, "The days go by so quickly."

"That's right." Raul said, and suddenly turned his head to Illeman, "It's already half the month, you can cheer me up! I bet with Gernhardt that you will definitely shoot more than him this month." Woolen cloth."

Illerman immediately replied dumbfounded: "I can't guarantee this, who told you not to say hello to me, but to take such an inexplicable bet."

"You, you," Raul yelled, "you are not motivated at all! You can shoot down every day and call it a day!"

"It's a steady stream," Illerman said with a sense of security.

"Walter, did you bring it out?" Haptman interrupted suddenly.

"That's right." Kupinsky looked at the cards on the table and said without raising his head, "The tactics of following others and playing sap without saying a word, followed me and practiced it perfectly."

Hauptman and Raul laughed at the same time.Illerman took a sip from his wine glass, and then turned his attention to the playing cards.Kupinski crushed the cigarette butts in the ashtray and picked up the cigarette case on the table; Raúl held out his hand to him, and he lifted the case halfway knowingly.Raul took a cigarette and handed it to Illerman, and waved another in front of Hauptman, who just shook his head.Raul brought the cigarette to his mouth and picked it up, before Kupinski withdrew his hand.

"It's been four years in a blink of an eye." Raul said after lighting a cigarette through the lighter that Illeman had passed.

"If this continues, it will become more and more difficult." Kupinski said, "Our material conditions are really far from those of the Americans."

"Not only the Air Force, but also the Army." Haptman continued, "Fortunately, in this situation, it is not a day or two. When we fight, we never fight for supplies."

"That's right, I can't fight it." Raul shrugged, "It's not like everyone is like you, they are stupid, they specialize in head-to-head, and they dare to resist the order of the head of state."

"If you were banned from flying, you wouldn't disobey?" Haptman said disapprovingly, "I won't leave the battlefield for a day until the final victory comes."

"You are the only one in the entire Air Force who has made forced landings behind enemy lines so many times and you are so brazen." Kupinsky said, "The Soviets can't catch up with you even with dogs on their own territory. I really don't know if you are right. Bombing is good, or the level of escape is higher."

"Only those who give up on themselves," said Haptman, "are truly hopeless."

28

August [-], [-].

Illerman adjusted the hem of his uniform shirt and zipped up his leather jacket.He walked along the edge of the tarmac, silently examining the silver-white Messerschmitt fighter jets.The boots stepped on the green grass stained with morning dew, and the air was damp and cool.He tightened the white scarf around his neck, looking at the ground logistics soldiers hurrying around.The pilots around the fighter jets nodded to him, and he smiled back.The occasional breeze blew away his hair, which was bleached bright blonde by the sun.

He walked up to a Messerschmitt.The young pilot next to the fighter jet has pale blond hair and blue eyes looking around nervously.Looking at the busy crowd not far away, he lowered his head to check his attire again, crossed his fingers uneasily, and when he came back to his senses, he suddenly found that Illerman was already standing in front of him.

"Mr. Lieutenant!" the young pilot shouted hastily, then raised his right arm, "Heil Hitler!"

Illerman just waved his hand, and said with a slight frown, "We belong to the national army, and we will give a military salute in the future. If you want to give a party salute, then go to the SS."

The young man was stunned for a moment, then lowered his right hand resentfully.

"Are you new here?" Illerman asked.

"Yes, Monsieur Lieutenant," replied the young man.

"Who is taking you?"

"Sergeant Meyer, Mr. Lieutenant."

Illerman lowered his head slightly, turned his eyes on the young man's leather boots, and asked, "How long have you been training in the rear?"

"Nine months, Monsieur Lieutenant."

Illerman pursed his lips into a straight line, and sighed deeply with a complex expression: "Are the Nazis asking you to die? How old are you?"

"Eighteen, Mr. Lieutenant."

Illerman shook his head, "Today's air raid escort mission is too dangerous, I'll change planes with you. Follow me."

The young man followed Illermann across the tarmac blankly to a Messerschmitt.The silver-white fuselage makes the black-painted nose even more chilling, the icy wings have cold white edges in the morning light, and the swastika on the tail is densely packed with record bars.

"You fly it today." Illerman saw the young man staring at the black tulip-shaped painting on the nose, and said, "With my title of 'Ukrainian Black Devil', no Soviet pilot would dare to touch you!"

A formation of eight Messerschmitts, well trained to keep their distance from each other, flew in a loose ring across the white sky.Illerman looked at the dense record bars on the tail of the aircraft diagonally forward on the right, and was silently lost in thought.With his right hand resting on the joystick, his whole body was almost motionless, and he moved slightly quietly.