[World War II] Thousands of Miles in the Sky

According to the guidelines of safe distance from the ground, flight privileges will be canceled for one month, weekend duties will be punished, and promotions will be postponed. "

Steinschmidt looked at Foko beside him.The latter raised an eyebrow at him and shrugged.

"Otherwise, could he still be a second lieutenant in March this year? All of us in the same class were lieutenants at the beginning of last year." Schroer said, "But the posts he was punished for are all my duties."

"Are you really on weekends for him?" Steinschmidt asked.

"What if you woke up in the morning and found your roommate disappeared without a trace, and a note was thrown on the desk, saying 'Going out to play. Dude is worth it for me, please. Come back and bring you candy. Hayo' What can you do?"

The already dim electric light flickered, and the light became more muddy.The wood grain on the table is obscured by Schroer's shadow.Kugbauer moved uneasily on the chair, the flickering light shone on his handsome face, casting deep shadows on his eye sockets.He closed the book and got up: "I'll go back first. You all go to bed early."

Foucault waved: "Good night Carl!"

Schroer looked at Kugbauer's back in a daze, until he got out of the tent, then turned his head and said to Foko: "What's wrong with being your wingman driver? I think it's pretty good."

Foucault put away his smile, looked at the ground, and said, "Don't blame yourself so much. You are not to blame for that incident in August. The other party was Cliff Caldwell of the 250th Wing of the Royal Air Force. And it’s not easy to go back.”

"But he was leading the Royal Australian Air Force, not an experienced British pilot; he was not driving a British Hurricane fighter jet." Schroer said with his head down.

"Didn't you also severely damage his American Warhawk fighter?" Foco comforted, "He was also injured by you."

"But I still couldn't protect my wingman," Schroer said.

Foco said nothing.He stood up and walked to Schroer, pulled the latter's arm on the edge of the table, and motioned for him to get up.Schroll stood up in confusion, and was immediately pulled into his arms by Foco.

"He won't blame you." Foco hugged Schroer tightly and whispered in his ear.

Schroer rested his head on Folk's shoulder.No one spoke.After a moment of silence, Foco let him go.Schroer blinked and looked up at the tent ceiling.Just as Foco was about to speak, a person suddenly lifted the door curtain and walked in aggressively.

"What are you doing! You don't sleep in the middle of the night...Who is on guard? Who is after Steinschmidt?!"

"It's me. It's my turn." Schroer hurriedly responded.

"Don't go soon!"

Schroer rubbed his eyes and ran out.

"Hayo Foco! It's you again, why can't you be honest for even a day?" Captain Edward Neuberger glared at Foco.

Foco pouted: "I'm sorry, sir."

"Let me see you participating in such dereliction of duty again, even if General Rommel stops me, I will never end with you!" Captain Neuberger roared.

Foco said dejectedly: "Sir, you should go to rest quickly. If you catch me violating discipline again, my surname will not be Foco."

Neuberger glared at him again before turning to leave.As soon as the captain stepped out of the tent, Steinschmidt, who had just stood up quickly when he appeared, quickly sat back down.Foco turned around and saw the grin on his face, and said disdainfully, "Forgive him for not being able to catch me again."

"Tell me," Steinschmidt said suddenly, "Did Karl call him here just now?"

"How is it possible?" Folk frowned and thought for a while, then said, "I think you should go to bed as soon as possible, and don't think about it here, Hans-Arnold."

nine

The temperature in North Africa has cooled down in December, and the bright sunshine is shining on the station of the 27th Regiment.There is no breeze in the empty desert, and it is the warmest time in the afternoon.

Kugbauer pushed aside the mechanic who happened to be in the way in front of him, walked straight to Schroer, and patted him on the shoulder. Schroer, who had been concentrating on painting on the tail of the light brown plane with a brush, immediately jumped up.

"What are you doing!" Schroer yelled, "Didn't you see that I was drawing the record bar? You almost made my drawing crooked!"

Kugbauer did not answer, but reached out and tapped the template that had been dug out of the record markings tightly attached to the tail, raised his eyebrows at Schroer and shook his head.

Schroer looked like he wanted to poke the brush in Kugbauer's stiff uniform, but he just rolled his eyes, turned around and threw the brush covered with gold paint back to the paint bucket on the ground, and then folded his arms and faced Kugbauer: "What's the matter?"

"See Haryo?" Kugbauer asked.

Schroer shrugged, "I haven't seen it today. Are you playing cards somewhere?"

Kugbauer snorted softly: "Have you ever seen Haryo have the patience to sit and finish a game of cards?"

"I've never heard of that." Schroer put his hands in his trouser pockets, "But if you put a note on the back of the player who plays cards, put a bucket on the door of the room where there is a game of cards, you are taking advantage of everyone else playing cards." Squeeze shoe polish into toothpaste when you're in the office...he's willing to do it no matter how many games it takes."

Kugbauer glared at Schroer: "You go to set up a bucket at the door of the tent and let me have a look?"

"That's all I'm talking about. He did a lot of these when he was in the flight academy." Schroer said and turned back to get his brush. .”

Reluctantly, Kugbauer walked around Schroer, who was bending over to trace the template on the tail. As soon as he walked to the nose, he saw Nuberger who was walking quickly.

"Captain."

"Kugbauer, where's Foko?" Neuberger asked right away, "Didn't you have a meeting with him at fourteen o'clock? What about others?"

Kugbauer avoided Neuberger's gaze and answered honestly, "I don't know."

Neuberger stared at Kugbauer, about to have an attack, but heard the sound of wheels rolling over sand, and both of them looked in the direction of the sound source in unison.A black spot in the distance is rapidly expanding, and it is close at hand in a moment.The tawny car rushed in front of the two of them and made a half-turn and stopped suddenly. The co-pilot immediately jumped out of a man wrapped in an Arab robe.

Kugbauer frowned, his eyes followed the white robe all the way, and he jumped in front of Nuberger, who was raising his right arm and shouting "Heil Hitler".The driver of the car also opened the door and got out of the car at this time, and gave a military salute to Nubiger: "Italian No. 20 Motorized Army, good afternoon, Captain."

Neuberger nodded to him, and the driver opened the door and got in the car, started it sharply, made a half-turn around behind Foko, and said goodbye to Foco in accented German.The latter turned around and said goodbye skillfully in Italian, beckoning until the car drove a few hundred meters away.

Nubiger withdrew his gaze from the car leaving in the dust, looked Foko up and down in front of him, and said, "You do as the Romans do."

"It's cold in the morning." Folk replied.

"Going to the general again?" Neuberger asked.

"Yeah. See you, Captain!" Foco responded, grabbing the back collar and pulling the whole robe over his head, exposing the brown uniform inside, then took off the white robe, crumpled it up and stuffed it to the standing aside. With Gebauer in his hand, he walked towards the other side of the apron on his own.

"Why do you give it to me?" Kugbauer held the robe in his hand inexplicably, and shouted at Foko.

"You're the wingman." Foco answered irrelevant questions without looking back.

Kugbauer looked down at the robe in his hand, then looked up at Foko who had gone away, and finally turned his head to look at Nubeg next to him.

Nubiger sighed, reached out and snatched the white robe from Kugbauer's hand, and said, "If you don't keep up with him, the mission is late, and I will be in trouble all afternoon."

Kugbauer just woke up like a dream, trotting all the way to chase after Foko's back.

The boundless golden desert is covered with endless blue sky.Two fighter jets with black swastikas on their tails leisurely across the sky.Folk held the joystick backwards with his right hand, lifted the nose of the aircraft, and slowly climbed up with the fuselage, with his left hand resting on the cockpit window.The airflow pouring in from under the window with a four-centimeter opening caused the corners of the square scarf tied under his collar to vibrate violently.

"Hayo!" Kugbauer's voice came from the earphones, "Close the windows! We're at the height!"

"Wait," Folk replied over the radio, pressing the talk button on the joystick.

Foko climbed unhurriedly in front, and Kugbauer followed closely at the right rear, but suddenly saw Foco suddenly lift the nose of the aircraft, rushing upwards, and then the fuselage reversed and flipped vertically backwards, and then quickly After lowering the altitude, it appeared like a ghost not far behind and above the tail of Kugbauer's aircraft in a short while, which is already a standard situation where you can fire.

"Hayo."

"Warm up." Foko chuckled, the window beside him had already been closed tightly, and he stretched out his hand to straighten the blown handkerchief.

At this time, Kugbauer, who was already on the lower edge of his front window view, suddenly disappeared.Kugbauer lowered the nose, rotated the fuselage horizontally and dived downwards, then raised the nose and raised the flaps at the same time, quickly turned half a circle to the left at high speed, and when the nose was leveled again, it had already stabilized again. Followed to the right rear of Foco, and it took only a few seconds before and after.

"Warm up," Kugbauer said casually on the radio.

"Oops," Foco exclaimed, not without surprise, "you're starting to turn with the flaps up too?"

"Ever since Captain Neuberger released you from the unreasonably high-risk maneuver of turning with a small damper in actual combat, he has no position to stop me from doing so in training," Kugbauer said.

Before Foko could answer the call, Nuberger's distraught voice came over the radio: "You two are