The seaside town of Aklow, located in the south-east of County Wicklow, is one of the closest places to travel from Ireland to the UK, and it is less than a hundred kilometres from the Cohen Peninsula in a straight line. Pen? Interesting? Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 During the great construction of the Kingdom of Ireland, Aklow did not become a military fortress like Dublin and Wexford, but was designated as a special trading port for fishing and animal husbandry products. In the "golden decade" of rapid economic development in Europe, Aklow has become a rising pearl on the east coast of Ireland, the former barren and quiet town has been reborn, the port has been widened, the docks have been renovated, the size of the town has more than tripled, the city is bustling, the nightlife is colorful, and all kinds of foreigners come and go here, like a miniature version of Limerick. However, all positive trends came to an abrupt end in the late spring and early summer of 1933, when the indirect confrontation between the two camps in the Middle East led to a rise in international tensions, and the military build-up of the Great Powers accelerated, and from the first Irish Navy patrol ship was stationed in Aklo, daily life here inevitably entered a rhythm of war—wired and wireless communications were strictly controlled by military law, access roads were heavily blocked, and the army patrolled day and night. All the foreigners who were stranded here were required to report to the police station every day and had to be screened before leaving, all of which made many people feel as uncomfortable as if they were handcuffed and ankle-chained, but as the pace of war approached, the Irish put away their complaints and doubts and actively cooperated with the military arrangements.

Early in the morning, Navy personnel wearing short-brimmed military hats and blue clothes and white trousers appeared on the pier piers and bridges in Aklo. There were only two berths at first, but it gradually expanded to six, the largest of which could accommodate ships with a six-metre draft, and often more than 100 or more than 200 ships sheltered from storms. The small port of Aklo can withstand the invasion of bad weather, but because there are no artillery forts and fortresses, it is difficult to resist the deliberate attack of the enemy, so at the outbreak of war, except for a few light ships used for guard patrols, most of the ships stranded here are civilian ships, of which trawlers account for the majority.

"The trawler 'Amber', with a registered tonnage of 42 tons, is 21 long. 2 meters, width 4. 6 meters, draft 2 meters, load 30 tons...... Completed in 1919 and built at the Second Shipyard in Limerick, it used a Brown-type water-tube boiler and a Nat twin-cylinder reciprocating steam engine, sail-assisted power, a maximum speed of 11 knots, and a steel-framed wooden shell ......"

On a wooden trestle, the young naval non-commissioned officer held a bound book of materials in his hand, and read out the main content of the information against the name of the ship, and standing in front of him was a middle-aged man in a hemp plaid jacket, with rough skin, wrinkled face, thick arms, and thick palms. A muscular beard, a tall, thin young man, and a blonde boy of thirteen or fourteen years old all looked at each other.

"Yes, sir, your information is accurate." The middle-aged man grinned, "But it needs to be added that due to the aging and wear of the machinery, it can no longer reach the speed when it was completed, and it can run about 10 knots without wind and waves, and it will break down from time to time." ”

The Navy sergeant made a simple note on the booklet with a pen and said unhurriedly: "The good news is that we will do it for you free of charge, and the bad news is that we need to requisition it temporarily." If there is any loss, the government will compensate according to the market price, if you have no opinion, please sign here. ”

"Sign it, give it to you, that's all?" Middle-aged people have no joy or sorrow, and they just seem to want answers.

"Don't worry, Mr. Hannasha, here's the second thing...... David Hannashah, born April 20, 1891 in Wicklow, 5 feet 9 inches tall, in good health, a former sailor, now a fisherman by profession, with no experience in the military; George Wallen, born in Dublin in 1886, is 5'4" tall and in good health......"

The middle-aged man crossed his hands on his hips: "Yes, that's right, there should be a man named John Hannasha in your registration information, he is my son, see?" ”

"Yes, very handsome lad, but he's not yet 16 years old." The non-commissioned officer handed him a printed piece of paper, "This is a voluntary application, and if you are willing to stay and help us steer this fishing boat, we will pay you 200 marks per day each." In the event of injury, the government will provide free medical care and disability benefits equivalent to those of military personnel, and in the unfortunate event of death, the government will pay a lump sum pension of 400,000 marks to your family. ”

The middle-aged man took the document, which was like an announcement letter, and said as he looked at it: "You are requisitioning these ships to go to the British front?" ”

The non-commissioned officer shrugged: "If you sign this volunteer form, you will know the answer soon, otherwise, you really don't need to ask more." ”

The middle-aged man frowned and turned to look at his guys.

"200 Irish marks a day, what's the reason not to do it?" The sturdy bearded urn shouted angrily.

"Yes, can we earn 400,000 marks in a lifetime?" The tall, thin young man laughed self-deprecatingly.

The blonde boy stepped lightly over the landing pads, came to his father's side, and said to the naval sergeant with a pleading face, "I will be sixteen years old in a few months, sir." I had to follow my father, and I could never leave the ship alone. ”

The Navy Sergeant smiled at him, "I'm sorry, Mr. Hannasha Jr., rules are rules, and we can't break them." ”

The middle-aged man didn't say anything, but grabbed the pen from the non-commissioned officer's hand, quickly signed his name in the signature position at the bottom of the document, and then raised his hand and motioned for the two people on the boat to come down and sign.

"I'm not in it for money, not for a high pension, but because I have a heart in my chest that loves my country. In the unfortunate event that I die on the front line, my son will be able to live well...... He should have received a good education, instead of being dragged down by me to deal with fish and shrimp all day long. The middle-aged man lovingly stroked the boy's head, but the boy did not appreciate it, and cried: "No, I don't want to live with my aunt, I don't want to go to school like a birdcage, I want to be a brave sea eagle." ”

"Silly boy, I'm talking about what if. Don't worry, we're going to win this war, and we're going to be safe with the Amber. The middle-aged man said with relief.

The two shipwrights signed the volunteer letter, and the naval non-commissioned officer turned his head to look at the old but unbroken trawler: "If nothing else, someone will come to overhaul you in the morning and replace the parts that need to be replaced...... There will be a dedicated liaison to come to you, good luck! ”

"Thank you, Mr. Officer." The middle-aged man said, "I have to settle the little Mr. Hannasha who doesn't like school, my sister lives in the town, she is very nice, but she is a little short-tempered." ”

The naval sergeant looked down at the boy and stretched out his right hand: "Little Mr. Hannasha, when you reach the age of 16, I will gladly hand over such a letter to you personally, and if you can officially join the Royal Irish Navy through the service selection, or be admitted to the Naval Academy, I will be very proud of our handshake today." ”

The boy timidly shook hands with the non-commissioned officer, and his bright eyes were already quietly filled with longing for the future.

The Navy Sergeant nodded to the other three, then walked to the next civilian ship on the register.

At the same time, at the edge of a fir grove about five kilometers from the port of Aklo, ground crews in dark gray overalls were busy making final preparations for a sortie of fighters hidden under camouflage nets -- checking instruments, pipelines, and control devices, and loading fuses with aerial bombs that had already been loaded, while dozens of pilots in standard jackets were listening intently to the commander's pre-war deployment on a meadow in the forest.

"Listen, your first task in this sortie is to support the troops landing in the southern part of the Coen Peninsula and to bomb the British troops on the battlefield. According to the latest battle report, our fighters are still trying to gain control of the battlefield, which means that we are likely to encounter British fighters during the mission, and the situation is not optimistic, but for the sake of the army brothers who fought bloodily, we are willing to let go. Remember, the flight altitude of entering the battlefield is controlled below 50 meters, see the right time to drop bombs decisively, and make a quick decision, if you are targeted by British fighters, do not panic, try to reduce the altitude and fly on the beach or near the coast, so that even if you are hit, you will still have the opportunity to make a forced landing in our control area. ”

After the officer finished speaking, someone raised his hand and asked a question.

"In such an ultra-low-altitude bombardment, we have to guard against not only British fighters, but also British troops on the ground - we may be shot down by their guns at any time, this is too risky!"

"That's right, it's really risky, so when I received orders from my superiors, I also raised objections, but the situation at the front is so critical that we can't afford to look ahead. One more bomb fell on the heads of the British, and the strength of the British to attack our positions was weakened by one point, and the hope of the landing force holding the line was increased by one point. Still have questions? ”

Another pilot asked: "Do we have the first goal of safe evacuation after dropping bombs, or do we use machine guns to kill and wound the British as much as possible?" ”

The officer did not answer immediately, but hesitated: "The order of the command is to return immediately after dropping the bomb, and on this basis, whenever there is an opportunity, I will use machine guns to strafe the enemy on the ground, this is my personal idea, and it does not constitute any advice to you, understand?" ”

Seeing that the pilots had no other problems, the officer looked at the time and ordered the disbandment. The pilots walked to their planes in twos and threes, corresponding to an IK-20 light bomber for every two. Don't be fooled by its technical number, this single-engine and two-wing tactical bomber is not a product of the early 20s, they have been in service since 1927, so far only 6 years, younger than most of the British Air Force daytime bombers, its naval carrier-based IK-20T has been famous abroad for its outstanding performance and good cost performance, the cumulative number of exports has reached more than 400, the land-based model is rarely exported, mainly used to equip the Irish Air Force.

(End of chapter)