Hey, There's Something in the Woods

"Steady, Lent! Hold it steady... just a little! Damn it!"

Sitting facing the tail of the plane, Logan struggled to operate the "extra" swivel-mounted machine gun. During the Polish campaign, the Fieseler Fi 156 Storch had been a defenseless, unarmed, and slow "three-nothing" aircraft, making it an easy target for Polish ground fire. After suffering heavy losses, the Germans had added steel plates and defensive machine guns to the plane.

"Don't be stupid! At this range, it's useless. Just sit tight!" Leutnant (Second Lieutenant) Steffenberg shouted without mercy.

"Too far?" Logan was puzzled. The plane behind them looked close enough to be within firing range!

If a rookie with no flying experience could accurately judge aerial distances, there would be no need for flight schools! The British fighter hadn't opened fire yet, but it certainly wasn't out of disdain for the German light reconnaissance plane. British pilots had lost many comrades over Dunkirk in recent days and were itching for revenge.

The nimble Storch quickly descended from an altitude of 1,000 meters to less than 100 meters. At this height, Logan could even make out every small ditch and wheel track on the ground below!

The scenery was beautiful, but bullets didn't discriminate. When the dark-painted British fighter suddenly spat out a stream of fiery sparks, Logan's throat tightened. He shouted in a tone reminiscent of the classic line from A Chinese Odyssey: "Thunder! Rain! Time to bring in the laundry!"

"Watch out! It's firing!"

In the blink of an eye, the Storch's left wing dipped sharply, and the plane banked hard to the left.

Logan watched the trail of dark red tracers narrowly miss the tail of the plane, sending a chill down his spine.

Damn it, we can't just take hits without fighting back! The rookie, experiencing aerial combat for the first time, tightened his grip on the 7.92mm MG 15 machine gun, which immediately roared to life with a rapid "rat-tat-tat."

Since his experience with the Vickers machine gun outside the British Expeditionary Force headquarters, Logan had become somewhat obsessed with the rhythmic sound of automatic fire. Watching the gun's mechanism cycle and the golden shell casings eject was even more thrilling than watching an action movie!

As the dark silhouette of the British fighter flitted in and out of his sights, Logan thought, Surely I'll hit it eventually, right?

After emptying the entire drum magazine, Logan looked up to see the British fighter completely unscathed.

"Damn it!"

Logan cursed again and hurriedly grabbed a spare drum magazine from the box beside him. But Steffenberg wasn't making it easy—the plane jerked left and right, each turn so sharp it felt like the aircraft might flip over. Logan's head banged against the fuselage several times, and stars danced before his eyes. He could almost hear the voice of a certain CCTV host: "Congratulations! Stars are sparkling! Your wish will come true! Yay!"

Despite the Storch's acrobatic maneuvers, the British fighter stayed close, firing short bursts from time to time. Just as Logan managed to replace the empty drum, there was a loud crack as bullets pierced the cockpit glass and the fuselage near his feet, leaving a gaping hole the size of a washbasin. The ground below flashed by through the opening.

"Damn it, is this thing going to fall apart mid-air?"

Logan was seriously worried about the fragile reconnaissance plane. He glanced up and saw the British fighter positioned above and behind them. The intermittent flashes from its wings made him wonder, Do they have infinite ammo or something? Wait, what's that?

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan caught a glimpse of green. Turning his head, he saw that the left wing was level with the treetops!

How tall are trees? In Europe, old oaks can reach 20 meters, and black pines can grow to 30 or 40 meters. But at this height, the plane was flying dangerously low.

Steffenberg seemed unsatisfied and continued to descend. Logan's attention shifted from the rear to the sides of the plane. When he saw the left wing nearly brushing against the branches, his heart skipped a beat: Please don't let us crash and burn!

"Wormhout isn't far now. Contact the SS and have their anti-aircraft guns cover us!" Steffenberg added, "Tell them to aim carefully. I don't want them shooting us down!"

"Only the Italians would be dumb enough to shoot down their own marshal!"

Logan wasn't well-versed in military history, but he remembered reading about one of World War II's top ten absurd incidents—Marshal Italo Balbo, who would tragically be shot down by his own anti-aircraft gunners in about a month.

Though an amateur pilot, Steffenberg's low-altitude flying skills were impressive. Zigzagging along the edge of the woods, he managed to keep the faster British fighter at bay. By the time Logan emptied the second drum, the small town of Wormhout came into view below. The ground anti-aircraft guns opened fire, forcing the British fighter to pull up. However, the British pilot wasn't ready to give up on his prey. After circling, he dove from above and strafed the Storch, which was preparing to land.

Faced with this new threat, Steffenberg had no choice but to pull up and head east.

Cursing the damned British pilot, Logan quickly loaded a new drum into the machine gun, ready to test his luck again. But after waiting and waiting, the British fighter didn't reappear. Had they finally shaken it off?

Before Logan could celebrate, a dark shadow suddenly appeared above. He looked up and was thoroughly startled: the British fighter had swooped down from above the trees, passing so close over the Storch that Logan could clearly see the roundels on its wings, the air intake, and even the tailwheel!

"Damn it!"

Both men in the reconnaissance plane cursed in unison.

Fortunately, the British pilot didn't get a clear shot this time. Steffenberg pushed the plane down until the wheels nearly touched the grass, then made a sharp turn, skirting the woods and heading north.

Just as the plane turned, Logan caught a glimpse of something unusual through the gaps in the trees.

"Hey, Lent, did you see that?"

"What?"

"In the woods to the left!"

"No, I can't afford to look away!" the lieutenant replied firmly.

"Can we fly back over there? I think I saw something!"

"No, we need to get out of here before that Hurricane comes back. Otherwise, we're in big trouble!"

"Hurricane? Huh, that thing doesn't seem so tough. I just think... there might be something important hidden there. Maybe... Allied tanks?"

"Tanks?" The lieutenant hesitated. "No, Leutnant, I think the Allies lost most of their tanks in Belgium and east of the Meuse River."

Logan wanted to argue, but just then, he saw the British fighter making a wide turn and heading back toward them. Reluctantly, he shut his mouth, gripped the machine gun, and prepared for another round with the bastard.