[World War II] Thousands of Miles in the Sky

If we don't, our surrender will hold off the Soviets long enough—"

"Erich." Illerman jumped off the wing and interrupted him, "I'm not going anywhere."

"What did you say?" Mueller frowned, "The supreme command ordered you and Mr. Prinz to leave and surrender to the British army..."

"Has Mr. Prinz gone?"

"……No."

"Then why do you think I'm going?" Illerman asked.

Mueller looked at Illerman helplessly, "But this is an order from above."

"I'll let them die." Illerman said, separated from the crowd in front of him, and walked towards the fuel truck on the edge of the tarmac.All around him were tense-looking soldiers, watching his every move.

"Dieter." Müller chased after him. "You are still young. Germany needs you. You are the number one fighter ace on the Western Front!"

"So what?" Ellerman asked back, "The regiment is here, and I am here! There is still one person in the 52nd regiment remaining on the front line, so I can't leave him and escape!"

"It doesn't matter to us people," Muller pursued. "You have to be clear, Dieter, the Soviets will only target you trump cards, and you will bear the brunt of it."

"I'm not just a pilot, Erich." Illerman didn't back down, "I'm a soldier." He stopped in front of the fuel truck, turned to look directly into Muller's pale green eyes, and said every word: " German military officers will never only care about their own lives, regardless of the lives of their soldiers."

He looked at Mueller fixedly, and said in a light tone: "Erich, do you remember that last year I made an emergency landing behind the enemy's rear and failed to return, and you went to the enemy's line to find me alone?"

"remember."

"You are able to take such a risk for me, and you are even willing to die for me." Illerman said softly, but his face remained unshakable, "Now you want to doubt my determination to risk my life for the First Squadron? Good." He said, suddenly pulled out the pistol at his waist, switched it to his left hand, and handed the barrel to Muller: "I will stay with my troops until the last moment, no matter what happens! Unless you now Just shot me dead."

"My God," Müller exclaimed under his breath, shaking his head, "Dieter, you're crazy."

"Of course I also want to live in peace and stability. Who wouldn't?" Illerman lowered his hand holding the gun.He looked over Müller's shoulder at the Messerschmidt, painted in the shape of a black tulip on the nose.The familiar outline, together with the heart-shaped painting with the word "Ursula" on the fuselage, are reflected in his amber eyes, "I love Germany and my family...but I can't leave my comrades in arms."

He quickly licked his lower lip and glanced at the crowd on the airfield, "The Soviets want to do whatever they want with me. As long as I am here, the fighting spirit of all the captured personnel will not dissipate. The whole squadron From the pilots to the ground soldiers, all are counting on me now, and regard me as the last spiritual support. I can't just walk away, let alone show weakness to the Soviets like this.

"Even if the war is over, I will still be your squadron leader, and I will never leave anyone in the first squadron alone."

As he spoke, he reached out and patted Mueller on the shoulder without giving the other party a chance to retort. Obviously, there was no room for discussion on this matter: "As long as there is still a chance of life, I will let each of you live."

After finishing speaking, Illerman turned around and looked at the fuel lane: "How much fuel is there?"

"Report Captain, quite a lot." A voice from the crowd rang out, "This is artificial isoparaffin hydrogenated gasoline. We also have methanol gasoline on the other side of the tarmac."

"Okay," Illerman replied, and then he said loudly, "bring all the fuel and ammunition over, and gather the planes in the woods over there. We won't leave these treasures to the Soviets!"

The late spring sun was shining on him.The German eagle on his military cap reflects dazzling light. "Don't just stand there, get to work!" Illerman shouted.A faint smile appeared on his face, "This is an order."

Muller still stood motionless in front of him. "No one can argue with you, right?" He sighed helplessly, but curled the corners of his mouth again.

"No." Illerman said quite proudly, and then half-jokingly said, "I have the final say on the first squadron."

Mueller sighed harder.He shook his head slowly, and then smiled at Illerman even more slowly: "I'm very happy that you are our squadron leader, Dieter...we fought a beautiful battle."

Illerman pressed the fire button, and a series of machine gun rounds entered the room of 25 fighter jets parked in front.The fuel spilled on the fuselage and its surroundings burst into flames, and the flames licked rapidly along the tree trunk.He reached out and brushed the side of the cockpit for the last time, pressed his palms against the edge of the cabin to prop up his body, then stepped on the wing with his legs, and jumped to the ground.He ran away quickly, and Messerschmidt behind him was engulfed in flames with a bang.He turned around and silently watched the flames soaring into the sky distort the air.

Elleman looked away from the raging flames in front of him and turned to the west.The cloudless blue sky is just like that lazy afternoon four years ago.

"The weather in Berlin," Illermann said softly, "is perfect for flying."

-End of full text-

extra chapter

Under the goose-yellow street lamp, the girl trotted past in a hurry.The dense night shrouded the empty streets, and the stars twinkled in the distant sky.The air smelled of damp rain, but the asphalt ground was dry and hard.The girl's beige low-heeled strappy sandals lightly went up and down as she ran, knocking on the street, making a crisp sound.Her pink skirt fluttered with brisk steps.

The girl stopped in front of a store.She tiptoed forward, put her body in front of the closed door, and knocked on the door a few times.The sound of her knocking on the door seemed to respond to a certain rhythm, but it quickly disappeared into the silent night.

After a while, the store door opened a crack from the inside.The vigilant gaze revealed through the gap met the girl's eyes.Then the girl silently walked through the half-open door, rubbing the door frame sideways, and sneaked into the shop under the dim light.The door closed again behind her.

The girl strode to the comfortable sofa, threw herself on it, and stretched her arms and legs.She loosened her long light brown hair in a braid, put one hand on the armrest of the sofa, raised her legs and put them on the wooden table with the tablecloth removed in front of her, and asked, "Where is my brother?"

This is a closed restaurant.Most of the tables and chairs were already set up against the edge of the hall, and the chairs were turned upside down on the tables.The smooth floors are as clean as new, as if they have just been swept.There is not much left in the center of the hall, but it is also spacious enough.An old and quaint looking piano stood by the window, and the curtains were tightly drawn.A gramophone stood on a small round table in the corner.

"Who knows, I haven't come yet." The blond woman who opened the door just now responded.She looks about the same age as the girl, but she doesn't have the same delicate appearance, but a bit of elegance.However, the two have a common lively look. "Did you elope with your old lover?" She walked up to the girl, sat on the edge of the low table, and pressed the white skirt from between her legs with both hands.

"That will save me from worrying about him getting into trouble everywhere." The girl laughed uncontrollably, "Don't worry, Helga, definitely not."

"Who is the person he picked up at the train station?" Helga asked curiously, shaking her slender legs back and forth, "Is it a man or a woman?"

"Men." The girl said, "You must know him. You'll know when you see him."

"Just tell me, Inger!" cried Helga.

Inge shook her head triumphantly, the dim light shone on her healthy skin that was dyed wheat-colored by the sun, "I'll know when I see you."

Helga leaned over, stretched out her hand and shook Inge's arm vigorously: "Tell me!"

Giggling, Inger broke away from Helga, got up and trotted around the wooden table.Helga also stood up and followed behind relentlessly.The laughter of the two chasing and frolicking girls echoed in the empty restaurant, making this dark space not only not eerie, but inexplicably cute.

There was a knock on the door.

Inge and Helga stopped at the same time.Helga turned her head and looked back at the dining room door where the voice came from, but Inge had already hopped over.The knock on the door has a strange sense of rhythm, which is as regular as if it came prepared, but also as complicated as if it came out with joy.

Inge lifted the latch and opened the door.The warm night wind rushed in, and a young man flashed in.His long coat fell to his knees, and the belt was loosely tied in a loose knot.The light brown hair was slightly lifted by the airflow, and a pink silk scarf was tied around his neck.Inside the coat was an unremarkable dark suit, but a blue flower was pinned to the buttonhole on the left collar.

"Yingge!" The man put his hand on Yingge's shoulder without saying a word, "I'm coming back late, so you are worried?"

Inge slapped his hand off as if in disgust: "Who should worry about you? At that time, I might as well worry about Horst, at least he won't cause trouble like you."

Another figure appeared behind the man.It was a man who was also young, taller and thinner in comparison, his dark blue eyes gleamed with indescribable emotion, like a dark and swift stream under the calm surface.Even though both of them are very handsome, this man's gestures are a bit sharper than his companion's.However, there was a faint smile on the corner of his mouth: "Long time no see, Miss Foco is as bold and forthright as ever, it's no wonder she can't get married."

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