Codegease: Air and Land Warfare 1946

Berlin is not small at all, but it is equivalent to a village or city. When compared to a country, a continent, or a military force that the whole world fears, it may indeed just be a small red circle on a map.

"Tsk tsk, this..." He couldn't help but click his tongue as he recalled the soldiers who had been shot down one after another in the sky.

"What kind of country did General Marendor mess with?"

……

……

"Lieutenant Colonel! We have now climbed to an altitude of 2000 meters! The enemy aircraft group is about 3 kilometers away from us in a straight line, and we have an altitude difference of more than 1 meters between us and them!" This radio communication came from the adjutant major behind him.

"Looks like it's too late. The enemy will definitely attack from high altitude! Everyone, advance at full speed immediately! Disrupt the enemy's attack! Seren, you stay behind me and coordinate with me!"

"Yes! Just you wait and see!"

……

"The general has entrusted us with the task of protecting the skies, and we must complete it! Now, it is time for us to fight to the death! Warriors, charge!"

"Charge!—"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the flight backpacks of the aviation KMFs emitted a bright light, and Soviet fighter planes from all directions, like eagles eyeing a rabbit, neatly flipped their wings and swooped down from the sky, rushing towards the large group of blue and purple figures.

"Everyone, take precautions!"

Li Ens jerked the control stick and slammed the pedal to the floor. The moment the hail of machine gun fire erupted from the nose of the Soviet fighter, it spun to the side. Seren followed closely behind the lieutenant colonel, spun in the other direction, and several fighters heading straight for them, trailing the ammunition belts, flew between two Gloucesters and sped towards the ground.

"Good for you! Seren! Keep climbing higher!"

The performance of his soldiers was worrying. Clearly, not all pilots possessed both skillful handling and the physique to withstand various gravitational accelerations; many Sunderland aircraft had just crashed straight into the dropped ammunition belts.

As the helicopters watched the KMF components raining down from the sky, they not only faced a near-certain death due to their absolute maneuverability disadvantage, but also had to be wary of the scattered pieces of iron and electronic components. Dying in a sudden disaster was far more unfortunate than being shot down.

Fortunately, the others quickly recovered and followed orders to engage the Soviet fighters in aerial combat. Although some aircraft were still being hit and caught fire, the rate of casualties was much lower than when they were simply standing still in the air, which was a relief.

"Hey! Lieutenant Colonel! Up ahead!"

Now, two planes are flying in front of the two men, one after the other, seemingly preparing to give them a head-on attack.

"I'm going to use a 'scooping the moon from the bottom of the sea' technique, do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, sir!"

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"We've got a target to push towards!"

"Take out the one at our height first, comrade!"

At this moment, the two Soviet fighter jets in front of them saw one of the puppets, holding a sword, suddenly plunge down, while the other maintained its original altitude, fired a few bullets, and immediately fled.

The lead fighter jet gave chase to the fleeing Gloucester, continuing to unleash a barrage of fire from behind, while the rear fighter slightly adjusted its course, pointing its wingtips toward the ground, trying to observe the fleeing aircraft.

The unexpected happened. The long sword suddenly appeared under the belly of his partner's plane and shot into the sky like a Siberian wolf. In the blink of an eye, the left wing of the comrade's fighter jet behind him seemed to have been cut in half by the flying blade!

"what!--"

The comrade behind him screamed over the radio. He could only watch helplessly as the fighter jet spun wildly, crashing to the ground amidst a shower of debris and flames.

The target he was originally going to bite had now turned around and pointed the gun at him!

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"Excellent! Lieutenant Colonel!"

"Alright! Now's not the time to cheer! Let's get back to helping the others!"

Li Ens and his companion immediately swooped down from the sky to help the other squadrons—the situation below was already very dire. Although the helicopters were undoubtedly being shot down at will, as if they were hot air balloons in the sky, the KMFs, who should have been agile, were still being destroyed one after another by fighter jets that seemed to be rushing in from nowhere.

The lieutenant colonel found it quite strange. No matter how bad the pilots' marksmanship was, they still had some confidence in hitting the fighter jet. Could it be that not many people could make the kind of cooperation that he and Major Seren had just done?

Without a second thought, they quickly chose a group of fighters that were relentlessly pursuing a pair of Sunderland fighters at six o'clock, immediately pulled the control stick, and swooped down. Ciarán followed closely behind. The lieutenant colonel swung his sword in a downward strike, and the major grabbed his machine gun and dove down, dropping bullets. One fighter had its tail severed and was shaking wildly, while the other turned into a black comet, both crashing down behind the two men.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel!"

"Get to the sides right now! More fighter jets are heading your way!"

"Yes!... Ah, no, I can't take it anymore!"

Finally, an uncomfortable gasp came through the radio. The two lieutenant colonels could only look helplessly at the sky above as two more fireworks exploded.

"Be careful, keep an eye on those planes! We could be next!"

“Yes, Lieutenant Colonel, I…”

Just then, a sudden burst of machine gun fire came from another direction. Seren quickly glanced to the side and saw yet another plane appear out of nowhere, already shoving ammunition belts into his face!

"Oh no!—"

"Get out of the way!"

It was too late. The scalpel of the Schwaker machine gun cleanly and efficiently severed Gloucester's head and wings. Lien could only watch helplessly as his adjutant's vehicle flanked wildly amidst flames before falling from the blue sky.

"Cough!—"

He followed the airflow from the fighter jet flying overhead and hurriedly chased after it at full speed.

"I'm going to cut you into a table leg today! You bastard!—"

……

The plane was entirely grayish-white, except for its nose, which was painted crimson, like the red star on its body. It swerved left and right, drawing large, undulating S-shapes in the air, whether out of habit to avoid the six o'clock position or to provoke the lieutenant colonel's sword.

Li Ens was getting impatient. He had already turned the power of the flight wing to the maximum and was about to touch the vertical tail of the fighter jet. But the fighter jet was like a cunning old fox, playfully leaping between his palms.

Gloucester darted to the right, and the plane rolled to the left. Gloucester then jerked upwards, and the plane slid downwards as if by magic. The fighter jet and the mech each trailed a pair of white lines emanating from their wingtips, drawing DNA double helices in the sky, locked in a stalemate.

Calm down? No, Li Ens now had a premonition that this plane might have extraordinary significance for this sky.

But then a green plane crept up behind him. The lieutenant colonel was startled and quickly rolled to the right before diving down.

A green plane flew past his forehead, but the lieutenant colonel already felt a slight unease in his head. The green plane had actually moved away from him; had it been damaged? Or was it out of ammunition?

He didn't dare slow down at all, and still in shock, he almost died in front of the pilot who showed him mercy.

He gasped for breath, searching around for the gray silhouette that had vanished. Looking out, the sky was almost completely obscured by the silver-white hulls of the attack helicopters and the gleaming blue-purple armor of the KMFs; the sky was filled with these cross-shaped enemies, leaving no cloud for these knights to hide in. Their only possible fate lay on the ground, where death would paint their aircraft with billowing black smoke and blazing flames, sending them plummeting to their deaths.

Li Ens finally felt a sense of relief, and just then, he saw that familiar gray-white figure, with a crimson nose, charging towards him face to face!

"bring it on!--"

He instantly became fanatical. Needless to say, the pilot of this plane was definitely eyeing it and wanted to take advantage of his position as the gunner to take it out first!

He immediately sent Gloucester charging forward, rolling and swinging his sword as he dodged the bullets, trying to cut him down with this windmill-like attack.

"not good!"

The lieutenant colonel muttered to himself, feeling even more unwell. He heard a fighter jet fly past him and immediately ordered Gloucester to stop, hovering quietly in the air.

He turned around, and wait a minute? Where's that plane? According to his plan, it should have appeared a little below and behind him, right?

Suddenly, a premonition flashed through my mind, and I quickly looked up.

The greyish-white fighter jet pulled up the instant the dummy charged towards it, tracing a circle in the sky. It was now perpendicular to the sky dome above the lieutenant colonel's head, its red nose pointing directly at Gloucester's head!

The lieutenant colonel tried to muster the last bit of strength in his limbs to press the pedal of his vehicle, but his eyes were rolling back in his head, and the painful signals from his heart and brain told him: we are already overloaded, we can no longer soar through the skies...

Li Ens stared wide-eyed, filled with rage, and let out a painful roar towards the direction of the fighter jet…

The rapid ringing of the Schwaker cannon and the ferocious barrage of ammunition finally erupted from the nose of the fighter jet, and the steel guillotine fell straight down, completely shattering the blue and white giant with gold stripes trailing behind it.

Leaving behind the fireworks of the Gloucester explosion, the greyish-white La-7 fighter jet, swooping down, slowly raised its nose, its eagle-like markings gleaming in the rising sun...

……

The rear half of the fuselage features the number "27" written in Arabic numerals, and rows of small red stars are pasted under the windshield of the fighter jet.

Chapter 59, Section 97: Old Friends and New Chariots

The fighting in Berlin was already in full swing because the sun was slowly rising.

Meanwhile, over a hundred kilometers away in Frankfurt am Main, in an open space on the outskirts of the city, a group of people are slowly walking into the area.

Commander-in-Chief of U.S. forces in Germany, Dwight D. Eisenhower, was accompanied by Lieutenant General Clay, who served as his deputy, and behind them were more accompanying officers.

Of course, there were also some people whose uniforms were different from those of the American soldiers. Their uniforms were more yellowish, and they wore brown peaked caps with red bands. The colorful medals on their left breasts were also different from those of the American soldiers.

However, this old general, who was ranked alongside Eisenhower, was somewhat different. It seemed the German weather was rather unfriendly to him; he was already wearing a thick, yellowish-green overcoat, his medal-studded uniform tightly wrapped inside. Tucked inside the collar was a pinkish-gray scarf, its worn fabric covered in tiny, pilling dots.

His neck and face appeared increasingly aged, covered with deep wrinkles. Beneath the etched lines around his eyes were prominent cheekbones, etched like stone carvings. The thick, gray stubble above his lips bore the unspeakable marks of time. It was hard to imagine that he was only three years older than Eisenhower, who was born in 1890 and whose forehead wrinkles were not yet very pronounced. It was striking how such a short span of three years could create such a significant difference in apparent age.

But now that things have come to this point, everyone probably knows who this old general is. If you still don't know, just look at his head—it's not a peaked cap, nor a boat cap, nor a gleaming steel helmet, but a beret, a charcoal-black beret with a gold badge.

I think you're sure you know the general's name, and you also know which country he and the officers behind him come from.

……

"Have you been having trouble sleeping these past few nights, Monty?" Eisenhower asked first.

"Relax and get a good night's sleep so you can handle everything clearly, understand, General? Haha." Indeed, walking side by side with Ike, chatting and laughing, was Bernard Montgomery.

"If you ask me, shouldn't you have ordered which officer is on their way to Zhukov at this time?"

"You guessed right. I suppose his plane had already taken off when I got into the car in front of the Farben Building."

"I hope he won't be slighted by the Russians, if this really was the work of our Eastern friends."

“So, Monty,” Eisenhower paused, “about the area where you border the Soviet Union?”

“Nothing amiss, my friend.” Montgomery shook his head easily. “You mentioned the tense atmosphere at Erfurt train station, but I see nothing like that here. It seems the Russians are more interested in watching the Yankee boys’ cigarettes, drinks, and chocolates than appreciating the bagpipes.”

“Then I’ll have the kids pack these things away and wait for those old Russians who were spying on us from inside the tanks to retreat.” Ike finally smiled slightly.

As they were talking, the two had arrived at their destination—a black six-wheeled armored vehicle parked in the open area. Ike didn't think it looked like an M8 Hound, and Montgomery didn't think it looked like a Kangaroo troop carrier either.

"Hello, General!" Several American engineers were gathered around the armored vehicle.

"Are you the ones responsible for inspecting this vehicle?"

“That’s right, General, we have made quite a few interesting discoveries.” An engineer led Eisenhower and Montgomery forward.

"Let's start from the beginning. What surprised us first was that this armored vehicle wasn't a simple combat vehicle like the 'Hound,' nor was it primarily for troop transport like a half-track troop carrier. It had firepower comparable to the Browning heavy machine gun, and could seat 12 people, including the driver and co-driver. Most importantly, it had roof armor. I don't think either our Green Iron Box or the Germans before had a sealed roof; at most, they just covered it with a canvas."

As Montgomery listened to the engineer's introduction, he frowned and looked the strange steel contraption up and down. Its all-black paint job was not only different from any of the American, Soviet, British, French, or German vehicles, but if its name really was "armored vehicle," then its size was already much larger than any of the Allied armored vehicles.

Judging by its length alone, it's already nearly 8 meters long. You should know that during World War II, there were hardly any armored vehicles that were over 7 meters long. Ike's M8 was only 5 meters long, and the Deerhound used by Monty's Gentlemen was about the same size. As for the Bren tracked vehicle, which was 3.5 meters long, "a potato meeting a giant pumpkin" would be the best description in front of it.

……

"Where is its engine?" Ike asked the engineer while Montgomery was still looking at the armored vehicle's large wheels.

"Ah, forgive my bluntness, General, but you might not believe it." The engineer first patted the front part of the armored vehicle's center.

“Its engine is here.” Then he slapped his hand towards the front of the car. “And here’s the driver’s cab!”

In most people's minds, the engines of armored vehicles are arranged in only two ways: either the engine is placed at the rear, like in tanks; or it is placed in the large nose at the front, like in half-track vehicles.

“And the strangest thing, General,” the engineer continued, his mouth agape, “was something that felt off when I climbed up to the engine radiator. Then I instinctively thought I should smell the gasoline to see if it smelled right, but I found that there was absolutely no gasoline smell in the engine!”

"What?" Eisenhower's eyes widened in surprise, and several officers behind him exclaimed in shock. Montgomery was so frightened that he couldn't even look around.

“Yes, yes, General…” The engineer wiped his lips. “It felt more like gunpowder with a hint of floral scent. We quickly checked its engine, but we’d never seen this kind of structure before. It was neither a gasoline engine nor a diesel engine.”

"So we started checking its fuel," the engineer said, his voice trembling slightly. "We searched the whole vehicle and found that it didn't have a fuel tank at all; its power supply was just this big metal box!"

As he spoke, another engineer bent down and carried the suitcase-like object that was placed to the side to the incredulous gazes of the crowd.

"This is the thing that fuels the armored vehicles, General. It's plugged into a port on the engine, and we have absolutely no idea how it gets the engine running."

Eisenhower and Montgomery exchanged bewildered glances. Accustomed to seeing oil drums, tanks, and tank trucks, they stared at this strange contraption with disdain, as if it were something heretical.