Chapter 153 The Battle of Poland (16)

"Look below!"

While the German soldiers on the ground were frantically slaughtering the charging Polish cavalry, a squadron of mosquito bombers high in the sky was admiring this tragic battle.

Someone immediately suggested enthusiastically. "Captain, do we have to go down and help?"

No matter how sophisticated the battle plan is, various unexpected situations may arise. Just like their squadron, when they were flying halfway, they were told that the bombing target that originally belonged to them had been blown up to pieces by friendly forces. And now the dispatch center is very busy and has no time to arrange new bombing targets for them. With enough fuel, they could only wander around leisurely and see where they could drop bombs to enjoy themselves.

As a result, they happened to fly over the battlefield and witnessed a wonderful slaughter scene. This seemed to be a good opportunity.

The squadron leader sneered at the suggestion. "How do you want to help? The cavalry can't even get close. This is just a one-sided massacre. We don't need to join in the fun. If we go down, they might think we are taking credit."

Sure enough, after a while, the winner on the ground was decided. "Hey, those guys escaped!!" Looking from a high altitude, the ground five hundred meters in front of our own ground troops has been dyed a dazzling blood red. God knows how many people and horses fell there, bleeding out.

The remaining Polish cavalry no longer had the courage to continue attacking this hell, and they all turned around and fled.

"I see them, follow them from a distance." The squadron leader ordered.

Many people were puzzled. "No, squadron leader, those few shrimps are not worth wasting bombs. We are not Stukas and cannot do precise strikes." Although the "Mosquito" bomber can perform high-altitude horizontal bombing and can be used for precise bombing at low-altitude point-shaped small targets, but it is still very difficult to blow up those extremely flexible cavalry.

The squadron leader said proudly. "What do you know? The most common thing a child does after being beaten is to go home and complain to his parents. The army is no exception. Now that those guys have been beaten to a bloody head, they should go back if nothing else happens. Complain to their commander, as long as you can hang them up, you can find big fish!"

"That makes sense!"

"Captain is wise!"

"It sounds like the captain understands it deeply!"

Amidst the frolicking, the bomber squadron followed the defeated soldiers from a distance, and indeed came to a cavalry gathering place. Looking at the densely packed cavalry on the ground, there were at least two regiments of troops.

"Oh, it's the cavalry unit again? These funny guys, do they think we are fighting a previous war?" Everyone complained, but if they had better eyesight, they could see that these cavalrymen are not like the previous ones with weapons like sabers and even spear throwers. Each of these cavalrymen is equipped with carbines and even light machine guns and mortars. Each of them has four Molotov cocktails strapped to their hips!

The Poles also know how to "advance with the times". Of course they know that in the face of steel armor, the saber is nothing at all.

Fortunately, during the Spanish Civil War, homemade Molotov cocktails became famous. This kind of burning bottle is not only simple to make, but also effective. Today's tanks are not yet rigorous in structure. There are gaps between tank parts, and the combustion bottle contains liquid fuel. If it is hit on the tank, the liquid fuel will flow in through these gaps. Molotov cocktails are usually thrown towards the engine compartment cover of the tank. The liquid fuel may burn out the engine inside the tank, and in this case, they will cause decisive damage to the tank.

And this thing is very light and can be thrown farther than a grenade. If the infantry bombardier can throw it thirty meters, then the cavalry can throw it fifty or sixty meters by relying on inertia.

The commander of the Pomorze Army, Bortnowski, made a very precise calculation. His intention was to use the cavalry as a vanguard to attack the forward division of the 19th Armoured Corps and the 8th Grenadier Division as a rearguard. At the junction, he would try to open a gap so that his army, divided into north and south, could reunite. What he didn't count on was that German bombers would target him before he could move, and he would soon be destroyed.

"Notify the dispatch center to see if there are friendly forces around. We have found a big piece of meat this time. It is best to send a Stuka or IL-2 over."

In a short time, under the coordination of the dispatch center, two squadrons of mosquito bombers and three squadrons of Stukas gathered here. However, two of the Stuka squadrons were on their way back to the base after completing their bombing missions. The only weapons left were the 20mm cannon.

"We'd better hurry up. When we first arrived, we saw the armored troops on the ground heading here. They will arrive in less than half an hour, and by then they will have taken away the credit."

The squadron leader spoke righteously. "They belong to us. We are all German soldiers. It's just that there are too many cavalry on the ground. The armored troops will definitely encounter some trouble when they come. Let's help them clean up."

After a simple exchange, the Stukas took the lead and swooped down.

The proud German eagles strategically attacked the Polish cavalry below. First, there was a burst of Stuka 20mm machine cannon fire, which brought a bloody storm in the formation of the Polish cavalry. The Polish cavalry drove towards the middle area, raised their altitude after strafing, and then the mosquito bombers concentrated their bombs into the dense formation of the Polish cavalry who were driven to one place.

Suddenly, bombs exploded in all directions among the Polish cavalry, and a burst of flesh and blood flew out among the Polish cavalry who had been stunned by the Stuka's shrill roar. The roar of planes, the explosion of bombs, the neighing of war horses, and the screams of the wounded came one after another.

When the armored troops on the ground arrived, what they saw was a picture of hell.

The Polish cavalry, who had just escaped from the ravages of the bombing, had no spirit to resist when they saw the rolling steel beasts. They stared blankly at the tanks with iron crosses on them as they rumbled past. Easily captured by the accompanying infantry.

Although there were corpses everywhere on the ground, they did not have time to stop and clear the road. The driver directly stepped on the accelerator and ran over the dead horse in front. Blood and water splashed everywhere. The commander watched the flesh and blood crushed and rolled up by the tracks falling to the side of the road. He couldn't help spitting and cursing several times.

"Keep going! Take the Brachi River Bridge and we will win!"