At this time, he saw through the curved glass of his cockpit a German fighter plane passing through his plane from behind. Pen ~ fun ~ pavilion www.biquge.info

Because of the distance, he saw a lot of details on the ME-109E fighter.

For example, the obvious yellow identification mark painted on the nose, such as the boxy cockpit glass.

He saw a shield on the fuselage in front of the cockpit with the "S" logo painted on it.

At the same time, he also saw that behind the shield logo, directly below the cockpit glass, there was a cute pattern of a mouse pinching a cigar.

The plane turned sideways beside him, seemed to say hello, and then sped away in the distance.

Presumably it was this plane that fired just now, and the British pilot watched the other party fly away, and almost figured out the reason why the other party no longer attacked him.

The air battle of 1940 still has a hint of the traditional flavor of European knightly duels. Occasionally, the two sides will carry forward their spirits to give this brutal grappling a bit of a competitive tinge.

Maybe the bloody battle is too depressing and distorted, and everyone will occasionally let the brilliance of human nature sway this desperate corner.

At the same time, if the opponent gives up the attack and leaves, it also proves that his previous attack has had the effect he wanted.

Even if they couldn't see the tail of the plane behind them, the British pilot could guess that it must have been miserable.

The opponent has already made sure to shoot him down, so he has to keep his precious ammunition and go after another target.

Smiling bitterly, he breathed a sigh of relief and felt his physical discomfort at this time.

He saw the red-colored liquid splashing on the dashboard, and the pain came from under his ribs, with a heart-rending breath.

He touched his stomach with his left hand, near the left side of the ribs, blood soaking his gloves and staining his jacket red.

"Hell!" He complained that at least 4,000 meters in the air, a bullet had made a hole, which was not good news for him.

The bulletproof steel plate behind him apparently did not block all the deadly attacks, and there may have been a few bullets that passed through the gap between the steel plate and the airplane's fuselage, piercing his body.

I don't know if it was the cold wind pouring in from the hole in the left body that had been pierced by bullets, or because of excessive bleeding - he felt the cold at this moment.

"Ground command center...... Command Center! He called to the command center on the ground from the intercom, but he couldn't hear anything.

He knew that he hadn't leveled his plane yet, and although the angle wasn't great, his plane was still decreasing.

Looking at the altimeter on the dashboard, luckily the altimeter is still working. The above number is decreasing from 12,500 to 10,000.

The altimeter on the British fighter was in feet, and when converted, his altitude was now around 3,600 meters.

Blood soaked the parachute behind him, and the bullet had penetrated it before it pierced his body - God knows if the parachute had been broken.

Now he couldn't turn around and check if his parachute had been damaged by a bullet.

Looking at the number on the altimeter, which had slowly descended to the 8000 position, he pulled his joystick to try to get his plane back to level flight.

This time the fuselage responded, but it seemed to be too violent: he heard a crunch, and then the whole plane began to jolt.

The descent was faster, and sitting in the bumpy cockpit, he knew that the sound just now might be that the flaps of the plane were shattered and fell off.

The jolt made the British pilot's wound even more painful, and the force that tore at the wound accompanied by the wind pouring in through the bullet hole made him shiver.

He knew that he was less lucky this time, so he stopped struggling, glanced at the altimeter, and found that he was already at an altitude of 4,000 feet.

At this time, he was only more than 1,200 meters above the ground, and the British Army soldiers on the ground saw the crashing friendly Spitfire.

The part behind the bullseye logo of the British Air Force on the fuselage was already tattered because of the bullet penetration and the tearing of the air current.

Although the front of the fuselage was still intact, it was clear that it was impossible for the plane to continue flying.

"Skydive! Jump out! The soldiers on the ground, who had been staring at the friendly plane since the crash, anxiously offered advice to their comrades in the sky.

Even though they knew that it was impossible for the other party to hear their shouts, they kept shouting, hoping that the other party could leave the plane that was about to fall apart and open their parachutes.

After all, they are fighting on their own territory, so as long as the fighter pilots who parachute out, they will soon be able to receive treatment and assistance.

Even if the pilot has been injured, there will be the best medical environment to ensure that they can recover as quickly as possible.

They were one of Britain's most valuable assets, and only their presence could prevent the Germans from landing in Britain.

"Oh God! Why didn't he open the hatch and jump out! A female soldier held her military hat and nervously muttered something in her mouth.

In his cockpit, the mortally wounded British pilot raised his arm, and now he had no strength to push open the glass canopy of the cockpit, and now the futile attempt was only his last attempt to beg for business.

I found myself unable to get out of my seat at all, let alone lift the canopy and jump out of the plane to pull the parachute. He gave up the struggle and sat back in his place.

The altimeter is only 1,000, and the number is decreasing. Like a counter on a ticking time bomb, this number also represents the countdown to death.

The same is when it comes down to zero, which means that the same life has left the world. The British pilot closed his eyes and left the control stick of the plane with his hands.

The familiar feeling in his palms vanished, and this might be the last time he let go of the lever of his plane.

In the past, when he released the joystick, the ground crew would help him lift his hatch and send him the most sincere greetings, followed by the laughter of fine wine and bar beauties...... This time it is estimated that there will not be such a good thing.

The altimeter was already at 0, but he couldn't see it anymore. Because before the plane hit the ground, he had already died of blood loss.

The Spitfire crashed into an open field on the outskirts of London, then turned into debris and scattered everywhere.

The huge wings were broken off the ground, and the British Air Force bullseye insignia on it was mottled with bullet holes and scratches from hitting the ground.

Fortunately, the plane did not explode, so the British soldiers around them, carrying stretchers and other things, rushed to the crashed plane.

Again, risking their lives, they had to rescue the British pilots who might survive as quickly as possible and take them to a nearby hospital.

But this time they were destined to be disappointed, because the pilot's body had begun to turn cold in the wreckage of the plane, and his face had slammed into the dashboard, making it bloody and ugly.

The battle in the sky was soon decided, because of the desperate interception of the British fighters, the German bomber group that came from afar dropped the bombs and began to return, apparently coming and going in a much more hurried manner than before.

And because of the shortage of fuel, the German fighters did not fall in love with the battle and left, and the whole battle lasted only a short 15 minutes.

They did not hunt down the British fighter units that were in a hurry to get out of the airspace, which allowed the British Air Force to pick up the pieces and leave a little bit of blood behind.

However, for Dowding and all the other British Air Force commanders, the 15 minutes of the short station were definitely a painful 15 minutes.

They shot down 12 German bombers, as well as 31 German fighters; The price to pay for this is a full 50 Hurricanes and Spitfires!

Of the 260 Hurricanes and Spitfires belonging to the 13th Air Group, in addition to the previous loss of aircraft, this time almost a quarter was lost at once.

Such losses have almost deprived the 13th Air Group of the ability to continue operations, not to mention that the losses are not the only ones.

Another 10 fighters were damaged, and although the pilots were fine, they were no longer in service.

On this day, the British Air Force lost 33 pilots, which was slightly less than the German losses, but it was also a pain that the British Air Force could not bear.

"Oh God! Have you abandoned Britain? General Dowding stood on the lawn, watching one fighter jet after another return, and sighed in low pain.

The 11th Air Group has not yet regained its combat effectiveness, and the 13th Air Group has already suffered heavy losses. This is the first day after the Air Force re-enters the war, how will the rest of the days be lived?

"The 13th Air Group now has 140 aircraft left capable of fighting. If the Germans attack again in the afternoon, shall we take off to meet them? An officer asked, holding a notebook, walking up behind Dowding.

He went through the process of accumulating the air force of General Dowding, and knew how much it took for General Dowding to restore the strength of the 13th Air Group to 200 fighters.

Now, all of these efforts have been in vain. The 13th Air Group has fallen back to the way it was a few days ago, and the next battle will be even harder, and I don't know if Dow Ding will be able to hold on.

"Fight! This is a battle of our fate, and if we are destined to pay the price, we should also bravely accept our fate! Dowding clenched his fists and said firmly.