The German ME-109 fighter began to swerve skillfully to lure and evade the machine-gun shooters on the Soviet plane.

And on the Soviet IL-2 attack plane, Zaitsev, the pilot in charge of piloting the plane, was trying to control the plane so that he would not become a target for the Germans.

He had just witnessed his friendly fighter being shot down by the Germans, with shells hitting the wings and fuselage of that plane, and even piercing the bulletproof steel plates.

The IL-2 attack aircraft had bulletproof steel plates for the cockpit, which provided very reliable protection for Soviet pilots.

However, it was impossible for these steel plates to help Soviet aircraft resist the attack of the Germans with 20 mm caliber guns at a distance of about 200 meters.

Even the MG-FF cannon, which has a somewhat pitiful trajectory, cannot be stopped by steel plates thicker than more than ten millimeters.

However, because of these steel plates, the machine guns of the Germans seemed to be of little use. Just now, the bullet hit Zaitsev's fuselage and hit the bulletproof steel plate with a crisp sound.

This gave Zaitsev a great deal of confidence that he still had a slight chance of winning at this time - although the odds were not large, but there was still a little bit of it after all.

"The other side is attacking the plane all the time, and the other plane is just playing the role of interference." Zaitsev shouted to his comrades behind him: "Keep an eye on that enemy plane, don't let him have a chance to attack us!" ”

While shouting to his comrades, he steered his plane from side to side. This swing can't be regular yet, because if the opponent has a pattern, it will be very easy to find the attack path.

The machine-gun shooter sitting in the back row was in this state, and the accuracy of the hit was conceivable.

He was sitting on a rocking boat and throwing stones at an equally wavering target in the distance.

It is very difficult to hit the opponent, and he can only make trouble for the opponent as much as possible to make the opponent less comfortable when attacking.

Of course, if it were possible, it would have been better if luck really hit the enemy plane.

In this case, after reloading his newfound ammunition, he aimed his machine gun at the rapidly approaching German aircraft in the distance.

Circle after circle of the front sight tossed and fell on the rocking plane, and the opponent's plane was on the left and then to the right, and there was no angle to shoot at all.

However, there is no need for him to strive for perfection, and his ammunition is quite adequate anyway. So he simply opened fire directly, using dense bullets to intimidate the opponent's plane.

The tracer bullet grazed the wing of the opposing fighter and flew away, because there was a deviation in aiming, so the remaining ammunition was getting farther and farther away from the German fighter.

Then, suddenly, the machine-gun shooter sensed that his plane was deflecting in the other direction, as if he was dodging something.

He saw something pierce the tail of his plane, and then another ray of light flew in front of him, crossing the fuselage in front of him, leaving a huge hole in it.

Before the trajectory of the tracer bullet was gone, he felt the steel plate next to him hit by something like a hammer.

The steel plate was deformed and shattered, and a huge cannonball flew into his cockpit. Accompanied by shards of steel plates flying everywhere, tearing at his body.

Various fragments pierced the chest of the machine-gun shooter, pierced his abdomen, pierced his thigh, shattered his leg bones and spine.

He spat out a stream of blood in an instant, and then he saw his abdomen and intestines tumbling out.

Blood poured out of his nostrils, and then his head lost its strength to support it, and the darkness spread before his eyes, and even the pain seemed to become blurred.

Zaitsev knew that his plane had been hit, and he even knew that his lungs had been pierced by shells flying from the side.

Now that he knew the ending, all he could do now was to press the bomb switch and drop all the bombs.

Although there may be nothing on the ground beneath his feet, and these bombs may not hurt a single German soldier, he still threw them all.

Then his plane shattered, the wooden tail broke in two, and the sturdy air tank could not withstand the ravages of the 20 mm cannon.

"Ahem!" He spat out a mouthful of blood, stained his leather jacket red, the cabin was bitterly cold, and the clothes on his body seemed to have lost their warmth.

The scene in front of him became more and more blurry, and even Zaitsev could no longer see the earth and the sky directly in front of him.

In the process of tumbling and falling, Mother Earth in the distance opened her arms to him, which made him feel a trace of warmth.

"I'm coming......," Zaitsev said silently, perhaps just thinking in his heart - it is not easy for him to move his mouth in his current state.

Eventually, he saw the plane on the ground rushing towards him, and even though his gaze was gone, he still saw it happen.

"It crashed!" Above the sky, the German wingman pilot, who had succeeded in the attack, ripped off the oxygen mask on his face and reported to his long plane.

"I saw it! You hit at least 5 shells! If it doesn't crash, it must be a tank. The pilot of the long plane saw the crash of the enemy plane and was also in a mood of ridicule.

Teasing in the battle is looking for death, and ridiculing after winning is a good way to liven up the atmosphere.

The wingman pilot was also apparently pleased with his second ever record, and excitedly asked over the radio: "I want to fly one more lap and see the wreckage of the crash." ”

"That's fine...... Fly with me! Lower the height! "Two German fighters with bright yellow identification marks painted on the nose of the aircraft, whizzed and began to reduce altitude.

And in the area where they were circling, the wreckage of an IL-2 attack aircraft on the ground was burning and exploding, kicking up billowing black smoke.

"On the 16th, we'll return when we've seen enough, and there's not much fuel left." Looking at his fuel gauge, the pilot of the long plane reminded.

The wingman pilot is also as good as a stream, he doesn't want to be happy and sad, run out of fuel and crash in the wilderness.

The two German fighters began to climb again, flying little by little into the clouds. This is the sky they rule, and everything seems to be dominated by them.

Soon, the two planes turned into two inconspicuous little black dots on the height of the clouds, and the wreckage of the planes on the ground was still burning.

Everything that happened here is over, and the fierce air battle just now is just the most inconspicuous small fragment of the whole war.