The Invasion of 1950 by Christopher Nuttall Read Free Book Online Page A

mounted on the bomber’s hull.
     
    “We may have to launch a second strike once we have refuelled and rearmed the aircraft,” Galland said. The surviving aircraft, Schmidt reminded himself; Richthofen was going to get hurt badly in the strike. “It is hoped that we will have inflicted enough damage to ensure that we don’t have to return there, and in that case we will be assigned to supporting the assault against Britain itself, but we know better than to always hope for success.”
     
    He paused. “We have a small team of agents near Scapa Flow itself,” he said. “The British Home Fleet currently consists of nine battleships, six carriers and forty smaller ships; the main targets are the battleships and the carriers. To add to our problems, there are actually three older carriers that date back to the last war as well as the three modern carriers; they have to be sunk as well. The British are currently going through an exercise of their own, so we will strike once they have returned to port and are digesting the results of their exercise and thinking about what it means for the future.”
     
    Schmidt nodded again. Luftwaffe exercises tended to work out the same way; there would be a period of frenetic activity, then a second period of rest as exhausted crewmen staggered to their beds and sleep. Meanwhile, equally tired senior officers struggled to work out the lessons of the exercise and decide how to present them to their men. His pilots had as much training and exercises as anyone else in the Luftwaffe , but even they got tired after a few weeks of all-out effort. The old hands from the war swore blind that wartime was worse, but the younger pilots found it hard to grasp; they had never flown against a serious enemy that wanted to kill them.
     
    “The British have three squadrons of Meteors and several other aircraft on the island itself and can probably request support from RAF bases in Scotland if they have to call for help,” Galland continued. “We will fly low towards the target, but we don’t expect actual surprise, so we will have to be prepared to sweep enemy fighters out of the sky. Accordingly, the first wave of fighters will be leading the way, followed by the bombers and the remaining fighters; the first wave will have to scatter the British and keep them scattered.”
     
    Schmidt felt a flicker of pure excitement. His Messerschmitt Me 270 jet fighter was the hottest plane in the air, and he wanted to finally test himself against a real enemy. The British pilots were spoken of with respect by the older hands, unlike the Russians, who were regarded with scorn and hatred. The Russian pilots might have been brave men, but during the later years of the war, they had been more dangerous to their own men than to their Nazi opponents. Untrained, flying inferior aircraft, they had been flung into the fray…and butchered.
     
    “I expect that each and every one of you will give his all to get Richthofen in perfect condition before the operation begins,” Galland concluded. “I have organised a massive series of training runs and operations, to be conducted by everything from smaller sections of Richthofen to mass exercises consisting of every aircraft in the force. This is going to put a strain on us, but I believe that we can handle it…and I will personally break anyone who slacks off, even slightly.”
     
    His gaze passed around the room. Schmidt straightened up under his eyes. “We’re the best unit in the Luftwaffe and now it’s time to prove it,” Galland said. “Your training schedules will be posted on the main board; the first exercise will begin in one hour. Heil Hitler !”
     
    “ Heil Hitler ,” the pilots echoed.
     
    It was a dismissal. Schmidt stood up with the other senior officers and headed back to the workroom, intending to check the main board before too long. His unit was a fighter unit and he hoped – prayed – that they would have the point in the coming attack.