Chapter 365 Night Battle (2)
"Pew pew! Pew pew pew!"
The muffled sound of machine gun fire made everyone's chest feel tight.
The tracer rounds used by these night fighters were not the bright type used by daytime fighters but the newly developed dim tracer rounds. The brightness of these tracer rounds was extremely weak, almost invisible to the naked eye, but very clear when viewed through night vision equipment. Additionally, the flash suppressors on these guns, with their extended and specially designed internal and external structures, produced flames that were almost negligible. Everything was engulfed in the darkness, becoming true nocturnal killers.
"Boom!" "Boom!" "Boom!"
Within less than two seconds, dozens of fireballs appeared in the sky.
"Hey, what's going on?!" exclaimed the co-pilot of a Wellington bomber as he saw a nearby friendly aircraft explode into flames in an instant, shouting in fear to the captain beside him. Meanwhile, the captain was looking to his left, his mouth agape in shock. Because what he saw was a series of explosions, at least seven or eight bombers had been turned into flaming wrecks in mid-air.
Cold sweat instantly soaked through his back, and he knew instinctively that they were under attack by the Germans. But how many enemies there were and from which direction, he had no idea. Trembling, he tried to press the communicator to warn the friendly aircraft ahead, but he heard several muffled sounds coming from below and behind the fuselage, followed by a sensation of coldness in his chest.
"..." The captain stared blankly at the shattered avionics equipment in front of him, coughing up a mouthful of blood. He struggled to turn his head to seek help from the co-pilot, only to see a bloody and mangled corpse. As his consciousness gradually blurred, the aircraft he was piloting lost control completely, starting to roll violently. The torn wing slapped viciously into the propeller of another bomber, immediately causing its engine to emit black smoke.
With just one round of attack, the German night fighters had taken out nearly one-sixth of the enemy's bombers. It was like a boxer mercilessly beating a group of blind men, as the enemy had no means of fighting back.
"Free attack! Don't let a single enemy plane escape, shoot them all down here!" the commander ordered excitedly, expressing his confidence in the operation.
At this moment, communication among the British bomber formations erupted into chaos. "We're under attack!" "The Germans are attacking us!" "I can't see where the enemy is!" In reality, there was no need for them to shout; everyone knew they had encountered the mysterious German night fighter squadron.
The gunners on the bombers tightly gripped their gun handles, their eyes wide open, scanning all around, but they couldn't see the tracer rounds fired by the enemy. Apart from the occasional friendly aircraft bursting into flames, there were no targets in sight.
This situation was enough to drive people to despair. The enemy kept attacking, but the defenders couldn't even see where the enemy was, let alone fight back. "I can't see where the enemy is!" the captain shouted. "Fire anyway! Don't let them get close to us!" Without receiving orders to retreat, they could only continue flying with gritted teeth.
Soon, tracer rounds of various colors shot aimlessly in all directions, but unfortunately, they still had no effect, and British bombers continued to be blown up one after another.
Finally, under the relentless onslaught of these nocturnal demons, someone couldn't hold on any longer and broke down. "Oh God! We have to get out of here! I want to go home!" a young pilot cried out with a trembling voice. Before anyone else could react, he forcefully pulled the control stick, and the heavy bomber began to turn.
"No!" the co-pilot beside him shouted, his face turning pale as he tried to stop him. Their front, back, left, and right were all surrounded by friendly aircraft, and any sudden maneuver could lead to a collision.
Boom!
Sure enough, a few seconds later, the bomber slammed into another bomber, and the nearly five tons of bombs inside both planes exploded. A never-before-seen fireball appeared in the sky, and the terrifying shockwave even affected several nearby friendly aircraft.
Seeing such a huge explosion, everyone was too shocked to speak.
Compared to the chaotic communication of the British bomber formations, the radio channels of the German night fighter squadron seemed much quieter. The squadron commander reported the battle situation to the ground control tower after shooting down an enemy aircraft.
"It seems like nothing to do with us again?" remarked a loader next to an anti-aircraft gun at the V3 base's ground defense position, looking at the pitch-black night sky. Not just him, but hundreds of nearby anti-aircraft guns hadn't been fired for a long time, except for routine training.
The anti-aircraft gunner listened for a while and then pointed to the sky behind him. "Listen."
The roar of engines grew louder from behind, gradually approaching.
The loader shook his head helplessly. "Another batch of night fighters, this is already the third. There's definitely nothing for us tonight."
At this moment, the second batch of twenty night fighters had already entered the battlefield.
Soon, the British bomber formations began to collapse, and the already somewhat disorganized formations instantly fell apart.
"Dodge! Dodge! Get out of here!" Inside the shaking aircraft cabin, the commander of the bomber group desperately issued the order to retreat. He would rather be conducting daytime bombing missions now—at least then, they had a chance to fire back at the enemy. They wouldn't be in a situation like now, where they didn't even have the ability to fight back and were getting beaten badly.
As for now... Although the gunners kept firing non-stop, besides boosting their morale by spraying bullets everywhere, it was even more difficult to hit the Anglo-German aircraft in the darkness than to hit the wings of their own allies...
This was simply a massacre of despair!
Forget about breaking through the defensive line formed by the German night fighters in front of them and bombing the German artillery bases. He really doubted whether there was a chance to fly back to Britain even if he turned around immediately. Therefore, he made the decision to retreat, even risking being brought to military court upon returning.
Upon hearing the retreat order, the already shattered British pilots suddenly felt revived, immediately emptying their bomb bays and turning their aircraft around to return.
Unfortunately, they were being pursued by the renowned speedy Mosquito bombers. Even if these British pilots pushed the throttle to the max, they still couldn't shake off the Grim Reaper relentlessly chasing them from behind.
The last British bomber was shot down less than a few hundred meters from the coastline of mainland Britain. With this, the entire British night bombing formation was annihilated, with none surviving.
Commander Hewitt, upon hearing this dreadful news, almost burst into tears.
Over 100 bombers were lost in the daytime attack, and another 100 in the nighttime!
In the span of a day, both attacks ended in complete failure, resulting in the loss of nearly 1,000 crew members (6 crew members for each Wellington medium bomber, and 3 crew members for each Blenheim bomber).