After the outbreak of the war, Britain remained isolated from the European continent. During this time, thousands of men and women crossed the German blockade and across the Channel to the safer United Kingdom. Some people come to escape for their lives, because because of their race or political ideology, if they are caught by the Gestapo, they will be sentenced; There are also disgruntled youths who have been bullied and are waiting for the right moment to take revenge, and they are ready to organize resistance in England; Others were RAF personnel and other British military personnel who remained in Dunkirk, while others were agents of German intelligence services mixed in with the refugees.

Where there's a will, there's a way. People have come up with various ways and routes to escape, and they have put them into practice immediately. By the summer of 1940, the Germans had occupied Norway, Denmark, the Netherlands, Belgium, Czechoslovakia, and parts of Poland and France, all of which had patriots who swore shame.

To struggle, there is always a risk. Although there are no precise statistics at hand, Naris, of MI6 of the British Army, doubts that one out of every ten people who have fled their homeland will ever reach the UK. Little is known about the sacrifices and hardships endured by the nameless men and women. It is difficult to leave one's relatives in peacetime to a foreign land without relatives, and it is even worse in wartime: it is not known whether the road will be able to reach its destination, whether it will be able to overcome the traps set by the enemy, and whether it will be able to deal with nature, which is not always so merciful.

During the Second World War, the captives used to dig long tunnels, jump over the barbed wire fences of the concentration camps, or even disguise themselves as women. In Inaris's view, this was the most ridiculous escape method that people could come up with.

One afternoon. Naris had just returned to the office from headquarters when an assistant anxiously said to Naris, "You're back." There is something urgent waiting for you. ”

"What's the matter?" Naris asked nonchalantly.

"Two Frenchmen landed in West Sussex."

"Oh. What's all the fuss about? There are thousands of planes on the European continent! ”

"This one is different," he grimaced, "and the report says they built their own plane!" ”

"Probably they're the Wright brothers. It's a pity that they are long gone. And it's not French. Well, you take Naris to see these two brave pilots. ”

"They came by car, they haven't arrived yet, they will be there in about an hour."

After a while, the two men were escorted to Naris's office, where they briefly talked to them. One was a young man in his twenties, with a thin build. He has a kind appearance, thick black hair, and the famous Ronald of the time. Colemanian lip mustache. Looks a little like that movie star. He shook hands with Naris, and when he was introduced, Naris remembered that his name belonged to an old French family, inheriting the title of viscount. The other man was twice as old as him and had brown skin. The appearance is very different: short stature. The body is stout, like an authentic peasant. His name was Marcel, and he was the Viscount's chauffeur, and he was respectful to the Viscount, always standing two paces behind the Viscount. Whenever the viscount spoke to him, he always bowed his head slightly.

After asking them to sit down, Naris hesitated for a moment, first letting Marcel, behind the viscount, answer the question. Naris asked him the necessary questions such as his name, address, religious beliefs, political ideology, education, and his father's situation. And he asked them why they had come here. Of course, this question is answered only by the viscount. Marcel listened respectfully in the back.

He said that his father was valued in the First World War and died in 1936 at a young age. He was just an adult. His mother had relatives in the United States, so she went to the United States to visit relatives and stayed for a long time to alleviate the grief of the widow. A wealthy Argentine farmer fell in love with her at first sight and soon proposed to her. The viscount was well aware of the pain of his mother's widowhood and encouraged his mother to remarry. The mother agreed to the marriage, and soon after the marriage in 1938, she went to Argentina with her new husband, and handed over the inheritance of Rouen and Paris inherited from her deceased husband to her only son, the viscount.

When war broke out, he was ordered to serve in the French cavalry unit, which was converted into a tank unit. However, the enthusiastic French were no match for the German blitzkrieg, and German tank divisions under the command of Rommel easily destroyed the French resistance with their high-speed heavy tanks and sophisticated weapons.

The defeat caused chaos, and the remnants of the French army scattered and fled, and as the viscount said with a sarcastic smile, everyone was only concerned about themselves, and it was a veritable "race for their lives". He was depressed by the defeat and returned to his hometown depressed.

Although France has been a republic for almost 150 years, the Viscount's homeland remains uncompromisingly feudal. After the German occupation of the area, all the villagers and small farmers regarded him as the natural leader and obeyed him. The German commander Colugo was shrewd and tried to protect the viscount's habits from being harassed, not allowing any German soldiers to be stationed in his castle and not confiscating the products of the estate. To some extent, the viscount is still seen as the absolute master. The commander of the German army, Colonel Collugo, even apologized for the lack of gasoline supply for his personal car, one of which was a luxurious Rolls-Royce.

"You know," said the viscount helplessly, "I have not asked for any such privileges, far from it. The Germans have so much respect for me, and they don't let me and my people share weal and woe, which makes me very unhappy. For this, I complained to Colonel Collugo. But the brilliant German officer always begged for forgiveness. Fortunately, the people understood me, and we divided the food without telling the enemy, and everyone who needed it got a little. But, sir, you know, this experience has confused me and made me pessimistic and disappointed. I wanted to be a useful person and I wanted to do something to alleviate the humiliation suffered by the Motherland. But what to do? ”

He shrugged his shoulders.

The viscount continued, he was good at flying, having obtained a certificate as a non-military pilot long before the war. During those happy and quiet days in 1930, he often flew to the Riviera to play, and sometimes to England to watch the Ascot horse races. Now, no matter how attentive the Germans may be. He's always a prisoner. One morning, dejected and distraught, he walked to the parking garage, where Marcel was wiping the Rolls-Royce. The cylinder head was polished silvery. A thought occurred to him.

Since there is the best car in the world, why can't you fly to the UK? The idea bordered on absurdity, but he couldn't shake the stubborn thought. He explained his thoughts to Marcel in all seriousness, for he knew that he could not take on such a great task alone without an assistant. He made the driver swear not to talk about it to anyone.

A few weeks passed. He hadn't made up his mind yet. Thinking of the meaningless life of the past, he was even more obsessed with realizing this crazy plan. He got a pass to Paris and went to work in an official capacity. It's actually about buying books about building airplanes. After buying the book, he worked it. At first, he was in a state of mist because he had forgotten most of his knowledge of trigonometry and mathematics. Had to buy more books in order to get a better grasp of aerodynamics.

Hour by hour, he wandered through the imaginary world. Suddenly. He thought of an old friend of his father's life. He was a professor of mathematics at a university who had retired from education and was living out on the outskirts of Evreux. In order to explain his motivation for being suddenly studious, he talked to the professor about his plans. Although the old professor did not agree with the viscount's plan, he was still happy to help the son of an old friend.

Thereafter, the Viscount traveled to the outskirts of Evreux two or three times a week, each time spending hours studying the dizzying cosine, tangents, and other mysterious symbols. The strong desire to achieve the purpose made him highly focused, and a few weeks later. He was already an accomplished mathematician.

He began to do calculations independently in order to be able to fly one day. The distance to the coast of England is 250 kilometers, and it takes at least 50 litres of petrol to fly there. Plus a fifty percent spare. He also had to take into account the weight of the engine, fuselage, and fuel, as well as his and Marcell's weights. From the outset he was determined to get Marcel along, for he knew very well that the Germans would have to track down their accomplices if they found the "big bird" flying away. If Marcel stays, he will inevitably become a victim.

Naris interrupted him, "May I ask your assistant a question?" ”

"Absolutely." He replied.

"Tell me, Marcel, what do you think of the Viscount's plan? Would you like to accompany him to England at that time? ”

He glanced at his master, and it was clear that he was asking for his master's consent. When the viscount nodded in agreement, Marcel said: "The master's orders are orders, and they will be carried out without hesitation." Since the master is willing to risk his life, how can he not give up his life to accompany him? ”

"Do you blindly believe that the plan will succeed?"

"Aren't we here?" He said with a meaningful shrug.

"Well answered." Naris smiled and said, "Mr. Viscount, please continue. ”

The viscount began to secretly design the construction of the aircraft, working on drawings of the fuselage and wings, while Marcel was busy looking for materials to make the aircraft. He found an old decorative sail in the attic, cleverly stretched it on the skeleton of a "home-made" airplane, and made a cover cloth out of an old tablecloth, removing the wheels from an old discarded car and installing it on the plane. Fortunately, the viscount's castle had all sorts of tools at their disposal, and the Germans were unaware of their plots.

Month after month passed, and the big bird had begun to take on the shape of an airplane. They were built in a room next to the garage so that no one could see it. In addition to Marcel, the Viscount's employment was reduced to three: one was a cook who had been used by the family for twenty years; One was his grandmother, an old man who could walk around the castle and mumble complaints about his mismanagement of the countless estates; The third was a young handyman, whom the Viscount had taken in not so much for use as for mercy. Although all these men were loyal and honest, it was not entirely impossible for the Germans to reach the ears of the Germans if they were not careful.

This is one of the reasons why the Viscount kept Marcel to work by his side. This allowed him to enter and leave the room as if nothing had happened, saying that he was trying to fit a gas generator in the car. To make it even more realistic, he and Marcel did install a coal-burning device on an old car.

Everything went quietly and without arousing any suspicions. Five months later, the Viscount began to carry out his crazy plan. His vague vision had been transformed into a prototype of an airplane resembling a prehistoric bird, just waiting to install cylinders and fuel tanks. It's not a hassle to pack. The main problem at hand is getting fuel. Gasoline has been confiscated. Access is restricted to units with special needs, such as the Red Cross and the Fire Brigade. The Viscount didn't know how to get his hands on this essential liquid.

There was a gas station a few miles from the castle, guarded day and night. It is dangerous to buy off the guards in it, because it would mean putting his and Marcel's lives in the hands of a man he did not know; Take the plunge in. Both will be caught. They must try to avoid arousing any suspicion, because a search of their room reveals the "home-made" plane. The Viscount couldn't just ask Colugo to give him a portion of gas: the Colonel was a cunning man, and he must have wondered what he was doing with it.

Thanks to the hard work of Marcel, he came up with a solution. He suggested that the host hold a gathering every month or so, and perhaps quite a few officials would come by car. When the owners of the car are having fun, they can let the drivers go to the employing room to rest, and then invite a few beautiful girls to deal with the drivers. At this time. He, Marcel, took a bucket and a rubber tube to the side of the car, and got a little oil out of each tank so as not to arouse suspicion.

At first the viscount hesitated. He did not want to see the enemies of the Fatherland seeking pleasure in his home. There was no shame in losing a battle, and cooperating with the conqueror was incompatible with his philosophy and education. He rejected the suggestion.

A few weeks passed, still at a loss, and the viscount had no choice but to agree to the driver's suggestion. Invitations were sent to Kohugo and his subordinates.

Meetings were held again and again. Marcel's gasoline storage is increasing. Only five litres were taken from each tank at a time, and after about four months he got enough gasoline to fly across the strait. Once, when a German driver suddenly came back to pick up something he had forgotten in his car, Marcel was almost caught red-handed. Fortunately, the Germans had drunk too much and ignored him as he crouched behind a car.

The Viscount also had a moment when it came to engines, when Colonel Collugo complimented the Viscount that he had the best car in England - a Rolls-Royce. And he said that he had to see and see. Thankfully, he didn't really look at it, because Rolls-Royce engines had already been installed on "homemade" planes.

After a long period of time. Everything is ready for an adventurous flight. One silent morning, before dawn, the Viscount and Marcel pulled the strange big bird onto a wide boulevard. If you haven't tried it beforehand, you will either succeed once or fail forever. The motor started and it took a few minutes to warm up. Marcel first stabilized the rickety plane in the back, then jumped into the improvised cockpit and sat behind his owner. The plane taxied forward along the boulevard. The engine first rotates in low gear, then drives the main shaft of the propeller to its maximum speed. Small planes bumped along the potholed avenues, getting faster and faster. The viscount gripped the joystick tightly and spread his wings. He held his breath: the strange prehistoric bird had barely reached the end of the runway before it took off, its wheels hitting a low fence.

The small plane continued to rise.

The big bird flew in the direction of England, and the pilot kept his speed steady at about fifty miles per hour, and the altitude never exceeded a few hundred feet. The Viscount knew that the lower he flew, the less likely he was to be spotted, and, as the Viscount said with a smile, the higher he flew, the harder he would fall.

The flight is normal. The viscount avoided the large towns with ease, seemingly undetected. Neither German fighters pursued nor fired shots to land. When the small plane crossed the coast and was about halfway through the channel, a group of British Spitfires flew head-on. Marcel hurriedly took out a white cloth and waved it constantly, which he had specially brought in to show his intention to make peace if it was discovered. The Spitfire escorted them all the way to a runway at the Royal Air Force base in West Sussex, where the Viscount expertly landed the small plane safely. They achieved their goal and were freed.

Naris's first reaction was admiration for the feat, and he was even more impressed the next day after inspecting the small plane. Naris wasn't an aviation expert, but honestly, Naris didn't know how they could get the plane to take off and maintain a speed of fifty miles. The pilots of the Spitfire confirmed the words of the viscount and his servants. When the "aerial lawn mower" was first discovered to be waddling over the Channel, the British were still quite confused, and did not know what Hitler's intention was to send such a thing to the British beaches.

The viscount was tried again, this time alone. Several times, Naris asked him to recount an experience he could almost memorize. Naris asks him what Marcel's talents are as a mechanic, and he says that his servant is competent and quite neat in all his work. That afternoon, Naris consulted a fellow engineer in the Royal Air Force, who told him that he had taken a closer look at the Swire Craft and was impressed by its improvised assembly. As a layman, Naris asked him a number of questions about the engine and its performance.

The next day, Naris met with the viscount again.

"I've caused you a lot of trouble, and I'm very uneasy." Naris lit a cigarette and said, "There are two or three points in your account that need to be clarified. The first point is the problem of taking oil from the tanks of German cars. (To be continued......)