For Garland, the Red Baron Manfred von Richthofen was his idol, and he even deliberately imitated the legendary pilot who shot down 80 planes when he spoke.

Garand loved flying as much as Richthofen loved flying. He loves the roar of the engine, the marshmallow-like clouds through the glass in the metal cockpit, and the thrill of chasing and hunting in the air. For him, the liquid-cooled FW-190D fighter with the nose painted yellow and Mickey Mouse painted under the cockpit was as beautiful and sexy as the unclothed woman.

Although the FW-190 is an ugly fighter - it does not have a good view from below, the huge engine cooling vents make it look unstreamlined, and its slightly stubby body is no better than that of British and French aircraft. Even the original designer of the plane thought it was too ugly and gave it the nickname "Yellow-Faced Woman".

But it was the most beautiful thing in the minds of German pilots: it had a speed of 550 km/h, a rugged engine and reliable flight performance, a 30mm cannon in the nose, and four 13mm machine guns or two 20mm cannons in the wings. Top-notch power performance combined with blazing firepower, this is simply the ultimate fighter choice that air forces crave.

Now, Galland piloted this advanced fighter that gave him a sense of security, and rushed to the French Air Force fighter formation that came to meet him.

"Wingman, keep an eye on my tail. Garland admonished on the intercom.

The wingman's voice came through the headphones: "No problem. I'll cover you. ”

"The whole group began to climb. Look for an attack position, and don't let the French go over to attack our Stuka. Garland gave the order as he climbed.

The German fighters began to climb, and the French fighters also began to increase their altitude, but apparently the German fighters climbed faster, and the fighter units of the two armies, which were originally about the same height, soon became a situation where the German planes were higher. Moreover, the distance between the two planes was closer, and the French pilots were no longer allowed to adjust accordingly.

"Attack begins!" Garland gave the order to attack, and the German fighters began to dive down in batches to gain more speed. The roar of the engine and the sound of the fuselage rubbing the airflow are like a symphony, which makes people feel happy and stir in their chests.

The French fighter pilots did not seem to want to sit still and wait for death, so they immediately dispersed their formation, circled and descended in altitude, hoping to use the grappling to drag the German fighters to a low altitude, and use low-altitude and low-speed combat to make up for the lack of speed performance of their fighters.

This is one of the few reasonable tactics that the slower side in air combat can employ. It seems that the French pilots were indeed well-trained, they were more experienced in combat than the Polish Air Force on the Eastern Front, and they were better at dealing with all kinds of adverse situations.

"Two-plane formation, pull up as soon as you break them up! Don't fight them at low altitudes. Get out of the ...... immediately after the attack," Garand commanded with a frown as he dived. More than half of his men were newly recruited pilots, and after the Battle of Poland, the Luftwaffe nearly doubled the number of planes in one fell swoop, so that many of the most successful flying corps were transferred almost half of their pilots.

Fighting with a group of newbies and high-level opponents is not very pleasant, but for Garland, it is not so much of a concern, as he prefers to play alone.

Dive, crazy dive, dive to extreme speed, speed that breaks through the limits of humanity, with the sound of whistling wind, breaks through the speed to 600 km/h. With this speed, it can rush into the opponent's fleet with lightning speed and tear through the target with invincible firepower. They are eagles in the sky, and their opponents are only sparrows.

"Tutu, tutu. "The cannon in the nose of the Garand opened fire, the tongue of fire erupted, and the bullet flew in the sky in a graceful line, and then crashed into the fuselage of the French plane, penetrated the fuselage, shattered the keel inside, destroyed the oil circuit, destroyed the equipment inside, and then continued to wreak havoc with the residual energy, until it smashed through the fuselage on the other side, and walked away proudly.

Garand hit a French plane, watching the plane start to fall with thick black smoke, he immediately pressed the joystick to the left, and his plane immediately began to roll violently, this sudden maneuver evaded the pursuit of another French plane, and also made his speed begin to decrease sharply.

"Wingman, I'm going to pull up! Follow me. Garland pulled up his joystick and let his back jerk against his seat. The engine of the FW-190D roared and began to output its own steady power, and the whole plane swayed from side to side like a leaf in the wind in the sky, with a hint of stubbornness and raised its head to fly into the sky.

Hovering to the left, he once again aimed the nose of the plane in the direction of the French group, shook the joystick slightly, felt the feedback of the plane to the palm, and knew that there should be no problem with his plane, so Garand accelerated and dived again, locking on his second target.

"Sir, I can't keep up with you!I can't keep up with you! I'm adjusting my flight maneuvers, can I continue to pull up? Can I continue to pull up?" In the headset, the anxious voice of the wingman came intermittently, but Garland didn't bother to pay attention, the opportunity was fleeting, and he couldn't hesitate to think.

calmly pulled the trigger, and the 13mm caliber machine gun on the wing sprayed bullets, and soon the French fighter who was struggling in pain was hit in the wing, seeing that the position was just right, Garand once again briefly pulled the trigger of the machine gun and fired several machine gun shells.

"Suddenly, suddenly!" the cannon roared again, destroying the fragile wings that were already full of bullet holes, and the birds that had lost their wings would fall to the ground, and the planes that had lost their wings would also turn back into the arms of Mother Earth.

Garland once again rushed through the fleet of French planes, and when he looked up, he saw that his wingman had been hit by a French plane as he was following him down, and the bullet hit the cockpit of the plane, and he could clearly see the moment the glass shattered, and blood spurting out of the cabin.

He never called his wingman again, because his own wingman was already falling in black smoke not far from him. The sound of the plane's engine brought Gallandra back to reality, and he immediately began to spun and climb, using the technical maneuvers that he was best at using the planes in his hand to shake off the French planes that had bitten his tail.

It is useless to say anything, and it is as normal for a novice to die on the battlefield as it is for a child to be stung to death while eating a fish. Garland knew that now was not the best time to give his wingman a memorial service, so he kept climbing, climbing, and flying against the sun—until his plane's engine power waned a little, and he knew he was back to his advantage.

At low altitudes below 5000 meters and speeds below 200 miles, the FW-190 is very vulnerable. Therefore, the flight manuals of German pilots made it very clear that pilots were forbidden to engage in such situations. If someone encounters such a situation, there are not many options: run away or climb faster.

Garland made a new turn at 17,000 feet and looked at the two French planes below that had to give up chasing him because of their altitude. A devilish smile appeared on his cold face, and the plane changed its angle slightly according to the pilot's operation, like a swift that had spotted bugs, and it hurried down.

The speed was so fast that the machine guns and artillery on the plane burst into their own roars, and the bullets flew into the cockpit of the French plane very lightly, just like the wingman of Garand was hit, and the cabin of the French plane was instantly smashed into a hell of broken glass and blood. Garand did not slow down, he rushed past the French plane and continued to pursue the other one that turned around and fled.

Soon he caught up with the slow French MS. The 406 fighter, immediately following him, pulled the trigger and opened fire without hesitation. Even Garland himself didn't know whether it was because of his anger at the downing of his wingman or because of the excessive adrenaline production of the continuous combat director. He poured out most of his ammunition and smashed the plane into an exploding flame in one go.

He flew sideways past the flames of the explosion, and when he looked up to look for the French plane that had just been hit in the cockpit, he found that the plane was circling and falling, and it had not lost control.

In the sky below, there were very few French planes. After all, the Luftwaffe still had more combat experience and better combat weapons than these French pilots. So the final outcome of this battle was not unexpected. By the time the last French plane crashed to the ground with smoke in tow, the Luftwaffe had lost only one fighter and one pilot who had just joined the Air Force.

"Keep cruising! Find all the flying French planes and kill them all. Garland stabilized the plane and gave the battle order in a cold tone.

"The 7th Stuka Bomber Squadron calls the Hindenburg Fighter Squadron, our bombing mission has been carried out and is ready to return, are you leaving?" asked the commander of the Stuka Squadron, who had completed the attack mission, in the headset.

"Yes, we're escorting you home! Attention all planes, attention to all planes. Let's get out of this hellish place. With the hum of the plane's engines, Garland was silent for about two seconds before speaking.

Yes, get out of this hellish place and go back. It's just that when I came there were 12 fighters, when I went back there were 11.