The throttle is pushed to the full, with the rod, the left rudder is pushed, the nose begins to rise, the beveled barrel rolls half a circle, the push rod is down, and it is flattened. RAF Second Lieutenant Layton made a dazzling half-roll sideslip in a second, and the huge g-force tried to throw him to the right side of the cabin, but the safety belt tightly tied him to the aluminum flight seat, the parachute under his waist legs, and his body slid down slightly, and the second lieutenant kicked his legs violently, his neck tightened, and his hands firmly grasped the Spitfire's joystick ring handle.

The plane leveled, and Leiden began to turn his head to look back and up with all his might, the Spitfire had already fallen to a height of two hundred meters in an instant, and with his experience in air combat, the German plane had no time to react to this set of actions.

"No?" German aircraft did not appear in the expected position in Leiden.

"On the right?" Layton quickly turned his head to look to the other side. Five hundred meters away, a Spitfire was spinning its body and climbing upward, followed closely by two ...... No, three BF109s. At a glance, Leiden could clearly see the white smoke pulled out of the air by the tracer bullets of the German cannons.

"Hell!" In the face of his comrades in a desperate situation, Leiden is completely powerless, and he is still fighting for his own survival, and he is powerless to help his comrades. Things changed so fast that it felt like Layton was in a dream, a nightmare that he would never wake up from.

The RAF had been driven mad by the Luftwaffe's almost never-ending wave offensive. The planes of the Germans seemed endless, and at each time they were able to assemble a huge group of planes that were so large that the back of the fighter command was chilling, and then simultaneously assaulted the southern defense belt of the Eleventh Air Force from several directions.

What is even more depressing is that two-thirds of them are feints, and the British Royal Air Force frequently takes off to intercept them, but the result is often in vain and they are busy in vain. Pilots are on intense standby for more than fifteen hours a day, taking off eight to ten sorties a day. The Spitfire does not have hydraulic assistance, and can only rely on the pilot's manual control of the wing. Each take-off and landing consumes a lot of physical strength, and the long hours of combat readiness also consume the rest of the pilot's energy, especially when the Luftwaffe BF110 began to continuously attack British airfields at low altitudes to harass British airfields.

The fatigue of front-line pilots has reached a dangerous level, and this situation has begun to spread to the pilots in reserve. Pilots and ground crews can be seen lying on the ground and sleeping like dead men everywhere in the airport. When the alarm sounded, the officers could only wake up the poor tired fellows with sleepy eyes and kicks, and then parachute them and put them on the plane.

Similarly, the state of aircraft readiness has deteriorated dramatically, with hundreds of accidents caused by mechanical fatigue and metal wear. Mechanical failures and man-made accidents caused aircraft losses and casualties even exceeded the Germans' gains for a time.

When these problems add up to the real attack of the remaining third of the Luftwaffe,

All of this eventually made up the RAF's inescapable nightmare.

The number of German escort fighters far exceeded the normal escort needs, and the grouped wave blocking defense tactic of the original Royal Air Force defense plan became a grouping wave fuel and death tactic, and the British fighters taking off in squadron size were always surrounded by German fighters who far outnumbered them.

When the British Air Force fighters arrived in the interception airspace, only a large group of Messerschmitt remained, and the German bombers often turned abruptly to flee a few minutes before making contact with the British fighters, or turned directly to return home, or switched to attacking ground targets along the coast.

And when the exhausted British Air Force squadron was crippled by energetic German pilots, the second wave of Luftwaffe bombers followed with clockwise precision. After bombing the base airfield, which had largely lost its ability to resist, to the ground, another group of German fighters took over and attacked the British squadron that had come to support.

With each such assault, the RAF suffered heavy casualties. Although the Germans also lost some of their fighters, they were simply disproportionate compared to the losses of the RAF.

It turned out that the Luftwaffe was relying on its huge numerical superiority and attacking from multiple directions. Drain the RAF's strength, drag down the physical strength and energy of the British pilots, and then look for opportunities to make a quick assault. Break up the scattered interception squadrons and squads, and the bombers follow up and destroy the airfield and ground command post, empty an airspace for a certain period of time, and then hit the ground targets they want to hit at will.

Each time, the Germans were able to concentrate superior forces to attack the RAF head-on, and the use of refueling tactics was clearly a murder of British pilots. Some of the British fighter units have begun to passively avoid war and lie about the air situation, the attrition of air crews has exceeded the replenishment rate, and the strong morale of the troops is rapidly disappearing.

In the end, Dowding was desperate by this bad situation, and instead of being crushed, it was better to die a vigorous death, and the British Royal Air Force began to look for an opportunity to concentrate superior forces in a decisive battle with the Luftwaffe.

This time was what the fighter command saw as an opportunity. When the radar network reported that the huge German fleet consisted of a large number of bombers, while the escort fighters had only one group and did not make a feint, while the anti-aircraft observation posts on the shoreline reported visual observations of a large German group advancing inland across the coast. The entire command system of the British fighter command was in an uproar, it seemed that the Germans had been carried away by the successive victories of the past few days, God bless the British Empire, and the group of arrogant Germans had finally revealed their flaws.

This is a good opportunity to revive the prestige of the RAF and re-boost the morale of the British people. The British Fighter Command immediately ordered all base squadrons of the 11th Air Force and the 12th Air Force to take off immediately and urgently, and then to merge and group in the air to concentrate on a decisive battle with the German large group. And in particular, he told that the first target was the German bombers, and that the elimination of a part of them, even a third, would be enough to restore the low morale of the air force at this stage, and it would also leave the Luftwaffe with an unforgettable lesson that the RAF could not be overwhelmed by a vile enemy.

As a result, the 11th Air Force and the 12th Air Force pieced together and brought up ten Spitfire squadrons and two Hurricane squadrons at the bottom of the box, although there was a serious shortage of personnel. The total number of aircraft finally reached eighty-two, which was theoretically enough to break through the German escort defense line. These fighters are already all the elites that the southern air defense zone can gather for a while, and all the pilots are veterans, and if they had been prepared, they could actually have mobilized more, and now the other troops are either too far away or are patrolling in the north, and they cannot reach the interception point in time.

When the British fleet arrived at the interception point, the German planes arrived as expected. Leiden, as the captain of the squad, was at the front of the formation. The British group, under the shouts of the commander-in-chief of the air "tallyho", quickly climbed to a superior height. Then according to the established attack tactics, a strong assault was launched, and Second Lieutenant Ayton followed the squadron leader's command team and led his three-plane squad to the German aircraft group.

"Oh God! It's a trap! They're all 109! ”

"Delphinch squadron, slow down, slow down now! Steer and regroup! ”

"Gray Swallow Squadron, speed up with me, rush up, and hedge against them!"

When the two sides reached a distance where they could see each other's aircraft clearly, the radio communication was instantly filled with all kinds of exclamations.

When he realized that he was facing German fighters several times his size. Idiots understand that this is a sinister trap, and they become the prey of falling into a trap. Under the shock, the various flight squadrons completely lost their unified command, and all gave orders according to their own judgment. The entire fleet was torn apart at once, and the Spitfire and Hurricane, in small teams or even single planes, scattered in formation and became a mess in the air.

Next. Forty BF109s formed a tight formation rushed into the British fleet, and in the first wave of attack, more than a dozen hurricanes instantly turned into flames. With the addition of the German army's subsequent large aircraft group. The airspace was shrouded in smoke and bullet chains. Everywhere there were fighters flying up and down, blue-gray camouflage BF109 and green-brown camouflage Spitfire fighters strangled together, every second a plane was shot, every minute a plane dragged smoke down, or exploded directly into a ball of fire.

Leyton's squad was broken up in the first hedge, and he hadn't seen his two wingmen since, and after dodging three frontal assaults from the German fleet, he turned around to find his fellow squadron mates to marshal and add some survivability to the battlefield.

But then he despaired, the RAF had completely lost its formation, all the planes were fighting on their own, and occasionally two Spitfires would form a two-plane formation, but the back of the butt would immediately be embellished with a dozen BF109s.

The British fighters were struggling to resist, and at this time it had become a luxury to want to get out of the battlefield, and the enemy was outnumbered by their own troops, and pointing their butts at the enemy was tantamount to tearing themselves to pieces by inviting the hunting squads cruising around the enemy's perimeter.

After turning around and rushing back to the melee area, Leiden did everything he could to avoid being drawn into the melee, these German planes had a limited range, and crossing the strait had consumed too much time for German planes to stay in the air, as long as they held on, supported for ten minutes, maybe fifteen minutes, the Germans would definitely leave the battlefield on their own and return home, and if they were lucky, they might be able to follow behind and find an opportunity to bite the German defender plane.

However, the question is, whether he can last that long, Ayton feels a little uncertain.

After getting rid of the raid of two BF109s, he was finally found by two powerful guys, and he was bitten to death. The experienced Ayton has made several tricks in a row to try to get rid of it, but it doesn't seem to be looking good at the moment.

"In the back?" Layton looked up at the rectangular rearview mirror erected on the cockpit windshield bracket, then pedaled the rudder to steer, and ran in a straight line in the melee to find death.

At this time, a dull knocking sound sounded in his ears, like a person continuously tapping the biscuit bucket with an ice chisel, and then there were two crisp metal hits, and Layton could feel the vibration impact of the seat back through the thick life jacket, and the next second the cockpit canopy above the head was shattered, and the high-speed flying plexiglass shards hit Leyton's flight cap and shoulder.

"Shot! Damn it! Leiden reacted instantly, he pulled the control stick to the right rear, slammed on the left rudder, the plane first raised its nose to the left, and then turned over, belly up, after maintaining the original altitude for half a second, pressed the nose, and the plane entered a dive.

The whole action was almost instantaneous, and it was the experience that Layton had gained after dozens of encounters with the Luftwaffe in the French theater, and it was the trump card that had enabled him to survive countless terrifying aerial firefights to the present, and which he had practiced with great skill.

The icy cold wind poured into the cabin through the hole in the hatch, and Layton quickly fastened the oxygen mask hanging from the ear of the flight cap, then rolled the fuselage from side to side, turning his head to look behind the tail.

"Oh! Shit! A blue-gray figure followed him steadily, and then he saw a second one.

"Let's try it." Layton stabilized the fuselage, suddenly rolled 90 degrees, and then struggled to hold the pole, Spitfire violently left the dive axis, and pulled up and climbed to the side.

The 1030 horsepower Rolls-Royce Merlin engine roared wildly, and Leyton was pressed by gravity on the seat, and he could even hear the ** emitted by the metal girders of the fuselage.

"Oh, oops! Don't. Layton noticed that his vision was getting narrower and the light around him began to dim, and after a second, he was in the dark.

When the plane suddenly carries out a large overload maneuver, due to the action of centrifugal force, the blood of the human body will move in the direction of gravity, if it is a positive G maneuver, then it will flow to the legs, and the brain will temporarily lose vision due to instantaneous ischemia, and even lose consciousness in serious cases. On the contrary, when performing a large overload maneuver with negative G-force, due to the instantaneous filling of blood into the brain, the blood vessels of the eyeball will swell and rupture, and the pilot will fall into red vision, which is worse than black vision, and once it falls, it basically loses the ability to pilot, and it also has serious sequelae, which is more deadly than black vision. Of course, for Spitfires with float carburetors, this danger does not exist, because under normal circumstances, the Spitfire has not yet had time to enter the red vision, and the Merlin engine has long been out of fuel.

This time Layton actually made a low-level mistake, when he did a big g-force maneuver, he should have stepped on the fire-breathing superior pedals, but because he was too nervous, or perhaps too tired, his mind was confused, and he forgot about it. The Spitfire's rudder pedals have two upper and lower pedals, and when the big g-force maneuvers, the pilot steps on the higher pedals, so that the legs can be raised, which can effectively delay the time to enter the blackout.

"Ahh Leiden struggled to shake the joystick and sway the fuselage, intending to make it difficult for enemy aircraft to aim until he could regain his sight. But all his efforts were to no avail, and Ensign Layton, who was in the darkness in front of him, heard a continuous dull sound of cannons, and then he felt the fuselage tremble violently, and he even felt every burst of cannon shells as they entered the fuselage and wings, and at the last moment, several scorching streams of heat stabbed into his waist and back. In the end, Layton didn't make it to regain his sight and take one last look at the world.

The Spitfire, whose cockpit and one wing had been torn to pieces, continued to climb for more than ten meters, then tilted its head to one side and began to spin and fall down like a fallen leaf, its body shrouded in black smoke from the burning of oil.

"The second one!" Second Lieutenant Allen reached out his fist and tapped the leather protective cushion under the scope, then looked to the left, where Lieutenant Colonel Wolfgang nodded at him.

This is Allen's fifth success since joining the army, and from today, he can step into the ranks of ace pilots.

"Thank you very much, sir." The young ace was grateful for giving up the attack to his wing technical officer on several occasions.

"It's a birthday present for you, Virgo brat." Lieutenant Colonel Wolfgang gave Allen a thumbs up from the cockpit.

Alan smiled and saluted the technician back, he turned his head to look at the war zone, the swarms of German fighters swept back and forth at the last few Spitfires that were spinning in desperate circles, and the clouds below the battlefield were densely erected columns of black and gray smoke, and the sky seemed to be lit. (To be continued, please search, the novel is better and updated faster!)