Canteen System Assistance Notes

"Bitch! Goddamn it!" Alexander roared like a bear. "Nazi shit! Go to hell!" "Go to hell!"

"Father Alexander, what's going on—Sukka! Nazis! Help, help!"

The high-pitched war cry quickly attracted the attention of the surrounding crowd, and the soldiers on guard nearby finally heard the gunshots and roars amidst the howling wind. Fortunately, the German who was hit by the flying axe was only breathing out, but not in, while the one with the candy-colored face couldn't even open his eyes.

Everyone hurriedly separated Alexander and the German, and then tied up the two surviving guys and controlled them. At this time, everyone realized that, except for the guy lying on the ground, the two German guys had a drunken smell of alcohol in their mouths, and it was obvious that they had drunk too much.

A driver, an orderly, and an officer, all of them are here.

? ? ?

This guy had drunk too much wine, and in the middle of the night, he still staggered across the minefield safely, bypassed the barbed wire, avoided the sentries, and walked behind the Soviet lines? Everyone present felt that their IQ had been whipped by Rostov's evil wind, spinning in their skulls, making them confused and surprised.

The sentries gathered around, the soldiers in the battalion gathered around, and finally the political commissar wearing a brown hat and a red star armband also rushed over. Alexander, panting, briefly explained to the political commissar what had just happened.

"Holy shit, that bucket truck we found outside the treeline that had crashed into a tree, was that his fault?"

Someone said in despair. The political commissar glanced at the unfortunate sentry sergeant and said nothing. He just comforted Alexander who was still holding the kitchen knife.

"Don't worry, comrade! We will treat these two Nazis well."

"No, my comrade, I don't care what happens to the Nazis."

Alexander Viktorov said angrily, pointing at the broken glass jar on the ground and stamping his feet, "But this is my candy color! My candy color!

Chapter 576: You Have to Eat (3) American Traditions Must Be Followed

(Transitional Chapter)

The "terminal building" of Fushi Airport stands tall in the winter sun. Several communication antennas are erected on the top of the brick-concrete structure, and a row of glass windows are luxuriously installed.

It is convenient for air commanders overhead to visually observe aircraft on the apron and runway.

Because of the poor terrain in Fushi, even the hardened riverside runway is still relatively short, making it difficult to take off and land larger aircraft. It can only be used as an ordinary garrison airport for the Eighth Route Army Air Force. However, due to its unique geographical location, many visitors to the border area by air still have to land at the Fushi Yanhe Airport.

Therefore, this is also the place commonly used to receive visitors from border areas.

"Mr. Service, after Military Attaché John Magruder's plane lands, it will be dinner time. We can eat and chat at the airport. If there is any follow-up need, we can meet with the Chairman in the evening. However, due to schedule constraints, the meeting with Commander-in-Chief Zhu may have to wait until tomorrow."

"No problem, Mr. Wu Shouquan. Based on the principle of reciprocity, it is perfectly appropriate for you to meet with the military attaché. I personally thank you for your efficient approval of the relevant arrangements for this meeting—both the military attaché and Washington attach great importance to this meeting and are both very eager."

John S. Service spoke in fluent Chengdu Mandarin and shook hands cordially with Wu Shouquan, the representative of the Central Military Commission who was also present, and they had a conversation.

Compared with the United Kingdom, which already has permanent liaison personnel, and the Soviet Union, which has set up offices and permanent representatives, the United States' interactions with the Eighth Route Army are still rather awkward at present.

Apart from the frequent businessmen and journalists, the US government had only one non-resident representative and scholar, John King Fairbank, who would regularly come to the border area to exchange documents, intelligence and information with the Eighth Route Army, and convey relevant intentions and attitudes. Lieutenant Colonel Evans Carlson, who was promoted and sent here in 40, only represented President Roosevelt himself and the Marine Corps, not the US officials. This resulted in the communication between the US and the Eighth Route Army being divided into several parallel lines.

The U.S. Treasury Department, the U.S. military, the U.S. government, and even the White House...

However, due to the current war situation, while the American civil service was still struggling to go through the process, the more responsive War Department/Navy Department systems, that is, the US military, had already taken action, each sending a team of representatives to the border area to discuss relevant matters. Among them, the Army was represented by a small liaison group led by John Magruder, the US military attaché in China.

"Military Attaché John Magruder previously traveled to Burma to inspect matters related to the China-India-Burma theater with the British and make arrangements for China's subsequent participation in Allied operations," Service said. "Upon receiving the telegram, the ambassador immediately notified us to come and contact you. He himself will arrive by transport plane after he has dealt with matters in Burma."

Of course, we know it was sent directly from Washington; we even know it was sent directly from Marshall. Wu Shouquan nodded and said, "Now we stand on the united front against fascism, comrades in the trenches. This little thing is not worth mentioning."

At this time, a man in a military uniform and a large white apron approached. He spoke with Wu Shouquan, who then quickly inquired, "The airport kitchen staff said they'll be preparing dinner tonight. Mr. Xie, do you have any dietary restrictions or preferences, Mr. Military Attaché?"

According to the plan, a US military DC3/C47 transport aircraft will arrive in Haojing around 4:00 PM today, then turn due north and arrive at Fushe Airport. Since this is not an official diplomatic visit, the docking team led by Wu Shouquan will meet with military attaché John Magruder.

Talking about things while eating is a common custom in both China and the United States.

"Well... let me think about it, eating is indeed a very important thing. I think it is indeed worthy of attention..."

Xie Weisi was a bit surprised. He hadn't expected Wu Shouquan, the representative of the opposing command, to directly communicate with a low-level cook and inquire about his preferences so routinely. He spent a few seconds trying to recall his own meals at the embassy.

But after all, this American who was born in Chengdu didn't have the skills and shamelessness of the British social animals. After a long pause, he really couldn't bear it anymore and could only answer based on the current thoughts in his mind:

"Your Excellency, unlike me, has not lived in China for a long time. So, if circumstances permit, we can prepare something that suits traditional American tastes. However, I also understand that now is not the time to be particular or picky about food. We should 'follow the host's wishes.'"

“American-style stuff…”

Wu Shouquan fell silent. He had studied in the Soviet Union and experienced both Russian and Western cuisine. He had also learned about foreign cuisine in the border areas 37 years later. But traditional American flavors… what exactly were traditional American flavors? He tried to recall the occasional "foreign dishes" in the Military Commission cafeteria, and the topics a special advisor to the Military Commission had discussed with everyone during their casual chats.

Apple pie, hot dogs, cheesecake… a bunch of foods that I have eaten, not eaten, only seen in photos, or only heard about from a consultant were resurrected in the depths of my memory, like troops lined up neatly on the parade ground of my brain, marching in front of the reviewing stand of my consciousness with greasy and sweet steps.

Are there any traditional American foods?

"Then prepare some New Orleans Chicken Burgers."

After much deliberation, Wu Shouquan decided not to dwell on these details. He turned and said to the kitchen staff, "Yes, it's that thing with onions, tomatoes, lettuce, and a chicken cutlet on a sesame bun... But don't add the oil or chili. I guess Americans won't be used to it. Let's use salad dressing instead..."

"Although the hamburger originated in the Port of Hamburg, Germany, it was also created by port workers to meet their daily work needs. It is a workers' delicacy. It is not only simple and convenient, but also tastes outstanding. As far as I know, it is popular not only in the United States, but also here."

Wu Shouquan turned around again and tried to smooth things over. "America has Coca-Cola, and we have Merlin Cola. America has beef burgers, and we have chicken burgers. I'm sure the military attaché would like a burger with cola." "That's fine too. I'm sure the military attaché would have no objection either—ah, it would be even better with French fries and ketchup."

Xie Weisi also breathed a sigh of relief and happily agreed, booking dinner for tonight. "By the way, Mr. Wu, I forgot to tell you that there are four of us on this trip, and we will all arrive by plane together." "Four people? According to the previous announcement, not counting you and Mr. Brooke Dolan who is accompanying you, the military attaché will bring two people."

"Oh, that's right. According to the information I received,"

Service replied seriously that the order for this visit came directly from the War Department—General Marshall. Military Attaché Magruder would represent the U.S. Army in direct dialogue with the Eighth Route Army. Therefore, the results of the dialogue needed to be sent directly back to Washington. His Excellency the Military Attaché had brought an encryption machine and a telegraph operator with him, so they could use your long-distance radio to contact Washington directly.

"As for the last extra..."

Xie Weisi was about to speak when the phone in the terminal's duty room suddenly rang. A few seconds later, the terminal's alarm blared. The previously peaceful Fushi Airport suddenly erupted in activity—ground crews and pilots on duty rushed out of the building, heading for their planes; anti-aircraft guns and machine guns outside the airport were stripped of their hoods and pointed skyward.

The soldier on duty at the airport ran over and whispered a few words to Wu Shouquan. Immediately, the Military Commission representative, who had just been chatting humorously, quickly regained the seriousness of a wartime commander.

He turned and said sternly to the Americans, "Mr. Service, and Mr. Brooke-Dolan. According to our air surveillance, we have detected an unidentified enemy aircraft intruding south of Guanzhong. They did not respond to our call signs. After verifying the flight plan, we found that this was not the plane the military attaché was on!"

"Please go to the air-raid shelter immediately! And immediately contact the military attaché's plane to bypass the alternate airport and take evasive action!" Immediately afterwards, the air-raid alarm over Fushe sounded again after a long absence.

Chapter 577: Curtis Comes with Bad Will

"Damn it! Nikolai, your name is Nikolai, isn't it?"

"It's Nicholas, sir!"

"Okay, Nicholas, tell me, aren't we supposed to be flying to Fushe? Why are we stuck in this godforsaken place?"

The two British men in the cockpit chatted with each other for a while, and then communicated with the random American radio operator. Finally, the American guy holding the code book came back from the radio seat of the plane and said to the military attaché John Magruder:

"Your Excellency, Brigadier General, according to the Eighth Route Army's report, their air defense forces have detected an unidentified aircraft approaching our route. For your safety, they have requested that we make an emergency landing at this airport called Xiguan until the danger is over."

"Okay, okay! Damn little Japanese! He pissed me off!"

Military Attaché John Magruder sat down angrily. He glanced at the truck heading towards the plane and said, "If the Eighth Route Army can shoot down this plane, I will definitely give that Japanese dwarf a good kick in the ass!"

After Ge Zhengquan's team of high-tech engineers developed prototypes for both surveillance and early warning radars, the Eighth Route Army's air defense system evolved. The radar system, with a coverage area of ​​hundreds of kilometers, not only provided faster and more accurate air situation information, but also freed up significant manpower and saved labor costs.

More importantly, radar waves can detect hidden aircraft of all sizes 24 hours a day, regardless of weather conditions. The "No. 1 Warning Radar - Private Use," based on future components, is capable of detecting single-engine aircraft within a range of 180 kilometers. Regardless of whether the aircraft is hiding in clouds or attempting to climb to avoid listening posts, it must submit to the laws of physics.

Here was the plane known as the "Little Japanese Dwarf." The Kalman filter further highlighted it against the already clear sky background, making it visible on the PPI display. Some remaining air observation posts reported seeing a "bright silver bomber with fixed landing gear" flying north across the Qinling Mountains.

Bright silver...fixed landing gear? It can't be a Stuka, right?

The air defense command checked the intelligence transmitted by their colleagues within the Guosu system and discovered no other flight plans beyond the known US military flight. The staff analyzed the situation and concluded that it was likely a typical Japanese Type 97 reconnaissance aircraft or a Type 97 light bomber on a reconnaissance mission. After being intercepted by the Chinese Air Force, the Japanese aircraft took off from Henan Province, circled south of Taolinsai, and then turned north through the Qinling Mountains, intending to enter the Guanzhong region.

As for the devil's purpose, they believed that it was most likely because our army was gathering towards the eastern part of Shaanxi Province. Although the Japanese army had noticed it, they were unable to detect our army's deployment directly. So they decided to take a long detour and infiltrate the border area from the south to conduct reconnaissance and confirmation.

Well, the logic is valid and the inference is reasonable and logical.

The air defense command immediately sent a telegram, instructing two fighter jets that were conducting training in the air to go and check the situation, and immediately take off the on-duty fighter jets to prepare for interception depending on the situation.

The two F4Fs immediately interrupted their live-fire training and turned to head south.

Following the guidance of the radar, they quickly found the unidentified aircraft that was trying to hide in the clouds - bright aluminum color, fixed landing gear... The ground observation data was correct, but the experienced leader immediately discovered that under visual conditions, the aircraft had a slender body and a well-proportioned outline, very similar to the Hawk 75 aircraft used by the National Army: although the paint job was wrong and there were no identification marks on the fuselage, it should not be the Japanese Type 97 or its variants.

Did the Preserved Air Force change to a new livery and then get lost again during flight training?

"Rookie 02, I'll go over and take a look. You gain altitude and keep an eye on it."

"Rookie 02 understands."

Although the aircraft was likely non-Japanese, the leading rookie O1 remained vigilant. Leaving behind the trainee who had recently been on a solo flight, he began to gradually descend in altitude in "Rookie 0," approaching the strange aircraft for visual identification.

He first used a UHF radio on the communication band to call out, but the other party didn't respond. It seemed that this guy didn't have an UHF radio on his aircraft. He then took out a flare and fired it, but the other party didn't respond either.

Okay, guess he's really a complete newbie. The lead pilot clamped his legs around the joystick, fished out a long-unused communication whiteboard from beside his seat, and wrote "Your Identity" in bold with a marker. He grabbed the whiteboard with one hand and pressed the inscribed side against the cabin window, then gently pushed the rudder stick to bring the plane closer.

He knew the nature of the Guojian Air Force. After the skilled, patriotic pilots who had perished in the early days of the war, the entire Nationalist Air Force was reduced to a mere shell. They couldn't maintain radios, couldn't or were too lazy to use retractable landing gear, couldn't even calibrate their aircraft's gun rendezvous points... and now, they were ignoring our communications.

This guy can't be illiterate!

The lead pilot muttered a few words to himself, then carefully observed his surroundings. The surrounding airspace was lightly covered with clouds, indicating no ambushes. His wingman, at a higher altitude, also reported that everything was normal. He maneuvered the plane closer: "I'm this close now, you should be able to see it now, right?"

But what was completely unexpected was that the situation changed abruptly at this moment.

The Hawke 75, which had no identification marks or paint and was bare in its original aluminum color, suddenly performed a very showy maneuver - it quickly pulled up, rolled half a circle at a slightly higher place, and then reversed towards "Rookie 01" by pulling the stick.

Suddenly, two dense lines of fire rushed towards the leader!

It's a .50.....No, it's a Browning!

In a split second, the leader quickly shoved the rudder and yoke, rolling to the other side to evade the enemy, barely managing to cross the line of fire and the enemy aircraft. At that moment, he clearly saw a pale-skinned man sitting in the cockpit of the aluminum-colored plane. He even calmly raised his middle finger and gave it to "Rookie 01."

"Fuck, this guy is a foreigner, and he's giving me the middle finger!"

The lead pilot was furious. With so many foreigners in the border region, the meaning of this internationally recognized hand gesture was widely known. "Why is this foreigner fighting for the devil? The German devil?"

Pilot training helped him maintain his composure. The lead pilot, grabbing the whiteboard and marker that had scattered across the cockpit due to the roll, quickly pushed the throttle to full power, providing even more superior power. As the Twin Wasp engines roared angrily, he quickly freed his hands and pressed the intercom button at his throat:

"Rookie 02! Cut him!"

Chapter 578: Grumman Swaying High and Low

Claire Lee Chennault, the captain of the "Flying Tigers" at the time, was a senior top-class pilot, defender of the Chiang Kai-shek dynasty, and the boss of a private mercenary army.

In the original time and space, thanks to the support of the Chiang Kai-shek government and the US military's smear campaign against China's domestic situation, Chennault's behavior of "using the situation of the War of Resistance to gain respect" ultimately succeeded. Although he objectively made certain contributions to the War of Resistance, he not only skipped the grade and was awarded the rank of brigadier general, but also enjoyed huge personal wealth and gained a huge reputation that was not commensurate with his behavior.

After all, the Air Force was so weak that it couldn't fight a war, so it couldn't just rely on "foreigners coming to China to help fight"; and the Communist Party at that time only had "millet and rifles",

Although the battle in the enemy's rear base was going smoothly, there was still ten years to go before the establishment of the Air Force.

Eighteen thousand miles.

In this time and space, communist areas outside the Kuomintang-controlled areas achieved greater success and performed better in the battle against Japan. Therefore, even from a purely commercial perspective, Americans who intended to use China to hold Japan back probably didn't need to hang themselves on the crooked tree of Chennault and Madame Soong. Files shared via Baidu Netdisk: "500 Historical Military Books of Xirang and Others..."

链接:https://pan.baidu.com/s/14V6X4c1IALlypl9XF9_g9Q?pwd=j3ut

Extraction code: j3ut Copy this content to open

So Chennault was very unhappy, especially unhappy.

It's one thing to "visit" the communist gangsters in the North, but you have to go with that John Magruder guy?

Chennault had a keen political sense. He knew that if he really "took advantage of the Flying Tigers' achievements in assisting the War of Resistance in China" as the War Department claimed, and followed John Magruder to the communist-controlled area, not only would his threatened requests for the rank of colonel and brigadier general be rejected, but also that a portion of everything from the Air Force to all the supplies imported into China through the Lend-Lease Act would probably be divided up by these communist bandits.

More importantly, his boss and financial backer doesn't like red-headed people, and he doesn't want anyone to replace him.

So, Chennault did not follow the previous plan to go to Gaojing to meet up with the military attaché and then fly north together. Instead, he jumped on a Hawke 75M in Nanzheng and flew north on his own. This plane was a personal gift from Mrs. Song at a high price. It had no paint or markings, but it had the power to fly freely in the airspace of the Republic of China.

The arrogant Chennault had a plan: he would fly through the Communists' flimsy air defenses, fly over Fushe Airport, and then land ostentatiously in the middle of the runway. He resolved that if successful, he would keep the plane in the middle of the runway, ideally forcing the military attaché to divert elsewhere. This way, he would not only humiliate the Communists but also demonstrate to the Army the inadequacy of the Communist Air Force.

"Haha! Bitch!"

Chennault was very proud of his first successful show of skill. The opponent's Wildcat approached him in a prim and effeminate manner to confirm his identity, and he launched a righteous sneak attack, scaring the son of a bitch so much that he shook his wings repeatedly to dodge.

He gave the middle finger, then turned off the onboard radio and pushed the throttle to full throttle. The Hawke 75M, its bright aluminum fuselage, began to circle at low altitude. Under the pilot's control, it twisted its azimuth, aiming to once again bring the Wildcat into its sights.

But the enemy's tactics were clearly different. Chennault saw a puff of black smoke pouring out of the exhaust pipe, and without looking back, he lowered the nose of the plane into the distance and rushed out at a speed that was impossible for a horse to catch up with. "Hey! Hey! Bitch! Are you trying to escape? Are you trying to run away like a naked child?

“I paid for it!”

The two sides were still at the same altitude, and Chennault lowered his nose to catch up, but the previous Treasure-like jump and reverse maneuver had cost him a lot of energy, and there was no way the Hawke 75M could catch up with the sand-painted Wildcat. Then, the red-headed plane quickly pulled up in the distance, trailing a trail of smoke, and performed a clean, sharp turn in the air, occupying a slightly higher position.

The next second, the Wildcat seemed to observe for a few seconds, then quickly lowered its fuselage and rushed towards the Hawk 75M that was recovering from a dive.

"Oh shit, damn!"

Chennault, skilled in acrobatic maneuvers, immediately pulled the joystick, causing the plane to roll sideways while rapidly sliding downward. The sudden load made his vision red and he gasped, but he successfully disrupted the Red Head's tracking aiming.

Six chains of fire with tracer bullets flashed by at the edge of the opponent's sight, and the opponent missed.

Where? Where? There!

The Hawk 75M, under the influence of gravity, was flying at a breakneck speed. Chennault had no choice but to tense his muscles and pull hard on the stick to free himself from the process of compressing the altitude. As soon as he was out of the blackout, he quickly turned his head to look for the Wildcat. The other plane had no intention of turning into a horizontal circle. Instead, it pulled the afterburner again, continued to dive into the distance, and then began another round of climb.

Climb, circle, observe, and finally dive again.

"Coward! You caterpillar!"

Chennault felt confident in the low-speed performance of the Curtiss aircraft, but the opponent's unconventional tactics of circling and chasing prevented the Hawke 75M from fully utilizing its advantages, which made him feel quite frustrated and powerless.