[World War II] Thousands of Miles in the Sky

his. "

"That's not true." Illerman looked down at the wine in his hand, "It's just what I heard."

"Oh?" Feng Farui said as he led Illerman through the crowd, returned greetings to several people who greeted him, and took a glass of wine handed over by someone else, and came to a small round table in the corner.He pulled out a chair and sat down, motioning for Illerman to sit across from him.

"Students will chat more or less." Yileman explained, "I heard that he was transferred from the 52nd Regiment to North Africa because there were too many women outside and he always stayed out at night."

Feng Farui laughed again, showing a row of white teeth, then retracted his smile and said:

"It's really bad news that spreads thousands of miles."

Ellerman didn't answer.

"Yes, that's what happened." Feng Farui put one hand on the table and gently stroked the side of the goblet.He hasn't tasted the wine so far.The amber liquid looks really nice under the light. "I've also heard people say that Captain Hasohov really had nothing to do with him, so he made such a bad move."

He looked at the wine glass, and after a while he continued, "You are young."

Illerman looked at the young Duke, hesitated for a moment, and said, "You are also very young."

"People from your academy," Feng Farui suddenly shifted his eyes from the wine glass to Illerman, "also talked about me?"

"Yes." Illerman replied, "All famous pilots will be mentioned more or less. Sometimes the instructor will talk about it, and the students will talk about it."

"Then how old do you remember me?" Feng Farui asked with a smile.

Illerman carefully looked at the man in front of him: "25."

"27." Feng Farui said, "Five years later, the one who sees a beautiful woman at a party and immediately abandons her friend and disappears is not Hayo, but me."

His words did not seem to surprise Illerman.The latter was looking at his still young and handsome face, and his eyes moved down to the iron cross around his neck.

"Is this Knight's Iron Cross awarded to you by the Führer himself?" Illerman asked.

"That's right." Feng Farui reached out and untied the ribbon, and handed the medal in front of Illerman, "He put it on for me with his own hands."

Illerman took it carefully.Slightly heavy metal products, the silver outline outlines the black cross that has represented Germanic knights since ancient times.Showing the highest honor as a soldier, the Knight's Iron Cross lay quietly in his hand.

three

"Have you ever driven a Messerschmitt?" asked Von Farrell.

"Not yet." Illerman shook his head and handed the medal back to Feng Farui.

"Ymir is much faster than the previous models," Feng Farry smiled, "Do you know Mr. Gunther Lauer?"

"I have no impression." Illerman thought for a while and said.

"You can ask Hayo. They might have known each other before." Feng Farui held his Knight's Iron Cross in his hand, and stroked the swastika in the center with his thumb. "There are many interesting people in the 52nd Regiment. Ymir just came out. At that time, Mr. Lauer said something that I still remember."

Ellerman showed a curious expression, waiting for Feng Farui to continue.

"'This thing is flying too fast. I just fucking flew over before firing.'"

Illerman couldn't help but said, "He really is an interesting person."

"It's really humorous." Feng Farui said, putting away the medal and the ribbon, "He is also a rare person who can deflect shooting. There are so many strong fighters on the Eastern Front, no matter how stupid the Soviets are, it is not easy to stand out. .”

He looked at the wine glass, picked it up and took a sip.

"The formation of the British army is not the same as that of the Soviets. It is much more compact, and often a dozen aircraft are dispatched together in a ring; on the contrary, we Germans do not have the habit of operating with a large number of people, usually only two groups of four Individuals, one lead plane and one wingman per team."

"I know that," Illerman said. "Colonel Werner Modes created the four-finger formation during the Spanish Civil War."

"So it is even more difficult to use deflected shooting against experienced British pilots on the Western Front." Feng Farui nodded approvingly, and then asked, "Now there is only one person in North Africa who can skillfully use this method of combat, you know who is it?"

Illerman was silent.

"Hayo Foko," said von Farrell, "that's why he's so famous now."

"Of course," he added with a smile, "twenty-five shots down in North Africa is not too little. That alone makes him a well-deserved Air Force ace."

Illerman nodded: "He was transferred to North Africa in April and didn't start making military exploits until August. It must be because this kind of tactics is difficult to practice."

"It's very difficult to practice." Feng Farui said, "And the practice of diving directly into the enemy's formation will make the fuselage be attacked from all sides, and it is common to be beaten so densely that it cannot be repaired. It shortens the life of the aircraft and fails to achieve results. , Lieutenant Neuberger was so angry with him. Besides, when he was first transferred to the 27th Regiment, his files were a mess. Every now and then, there would be a record of ignoring orders and violating military discipline. If his father was General Siegfried Focker , I'm afraid he can't stay in the Air Force anymore, and he can't wait until August."

Feng Farui raised his glass.After putting down the wine glass, he seemed to think for a moment and asked, "What does your father do?"

"It's a doctor," Illerman replied. "My mother is a pilot, so my brother and I have been exposed to gliders since childhood. I was an instructor in a glider school when I was 14 years old."

"Elizabeth Ellerman?" said Von Farrey. "No wonder."

"Yes."

"The economy was depressed before Hitler came to power, so your father's business must have been affected as well," Feng Farui said again.

"Very affected," Illerman replied.

"Probably so." Feng Farui raised his wine glass and looked at the color of the liquid inside thoughtfully against the light, "I was born in Switzerland, and my biological father, Duke Leo von Farui, went bankrupt after the war, so he had to put The six children were raised by relatives in Germany. The two youngest were adopted by the childless Karl von Haber family, without even knowing their true origins."

Illerman stared at the young duke.The light from the luxurious overhead light in the banquet hall passed through the raised wine glass, and the liquid in it was translucent, casting a blurred light and shadow on Feng Farui's face.It took a long time before Feng Farui put down his wine glass on the table.

"I have no home other than the Air Force." He said, "Since I joined the army in [-], the Third Wing has been everything to me. So when I was captured last September, I didn't stop for a moment. Come back. I can't wait until the end of the war, and I can't wait for the day when I will be released. I can't sit in a prisoner-of-war camp knowing that my comrades are charging at the front. Whether it's digging a tunnel for a whole month, Still crossing the frozen St. Lawrence River, together with the first two failed attempts, did not make me give up; I traveled all the way from Canada to Germany via the United States, Mexico, Brazil, Barcelona, ​​Spain and Italy, just to die To die with them. I grew up in Germany, Germany is my fatherland; only the Germans regard me as a compatriot, and German blood flows in my veins. Even if Hitler declares war on Switzerland one day, I will Stand by Germany without hesitation and fight for my true homeland."

"Are you in the 53rd Regiment now?" Illerman asked suddenly.

"Yes." Feng Farui looked up at Illerman, "Since I returned to Germany in April, I haven't been on the battlefield properly. Either assisting in the interrogation of the captured British pilots, or reporting to high-level officials. Due to my experience, in the The treatment of German prisoners of war has also been improved. I didn’t return to the front line until July, and served as the first team leader on the Eastern Front with the 53rd Regiment.”

"Then you must know Friedrich-Carl Schenck."

"Indeed." Von Farrell replied, "Friedrich is also an ace in the group. You know him?"

"It's my mother's year-end friend." Illerman said, "I want to be a fighter pilot. Apart from my mother, the happiest person is Mr. Schenk."

"That's it." Feng Farui nodded, "Then how did you know Haryo?"

"A few days ago at the train station." Illerman said embarrassingly, "He and his sister had a terrific argument on the platform, and I was so annoyed that I realized it was the famous Haryo Foko. "

Feng Farui showed a clear smile: "It is indeed his style, wherever he goes, he must attract the attention of passers-by."

"Duke!" Foco suddenly appeared out of nowhere, holding Lise's hand, "Speaking ill of me?"

"No." Feng Farui looked up, "I've praised you a lot."

"Praise me for being handsome?"

"Praise you for your thick skin." Feng Farui raised his glass as he spoke, and drank the wine in the glass in one gulp.

Foucault looked at Illerman, then at Feng Farui, and said, "Aren't you going to dance with some pretty girl? There are so many young and beautiful girls here, and you don't like any of them?"

"There are some who are interesting," Feng Farui raised the corner of his mouth slightly, and looked at Lisi jokingly, "It's a pity that the famous flower has someone."

"Mr. Feng Farui really knows how to joke." Lisi smiled, but stretched out her right hand to him.

Feng Farui stood up and gently held Lise's hand, and kissed the back of the smooth hand: "Can I ask you to dance, Miss?"

"Of course." As soon as Lisi finished speaking, she was led by Feng Farui to the center of the banquet hall.

Still holding a glass of wine in his hand, Foco shrugged his shoulders as he watched the couples of gentlemen and ladies dancing in the direction where Feng Farui and Liz were going away.

"The Playboy of the Triple Alliance really lives up to its reputation, and it's really romantic." Illerman also stood up and said.

"That's it," Foucault said, turning around, rather complacently, "that's what people do in social circles."