By this time, the N25 had left the most dangerous part of the water and entered the open flare of Bristol Bay, an area with an average depth of between 20 and 30 meters, which was enough to support the dives of large ocean-going submarines such as the T-class.

At one point, the shallow part of the bay at Bristol Port was only about six to seven meters deep, and the submarine had no room to hide if it was threatened from the air.

And now, when Captain Bernard on the conning tower noticed a black spot in the air in the distance, he immediately ordered the submarine to dive urgently. The field of vision in the air is farther than on the sea, and the silhouette of the ship is particularly conspicuous on the calm sea.

"Dive, dive! Close the watertight door and everyone is in place. All get moving, damn bastard. Bernard slid into the command cabin with a ladder in his hand, and he gave instructions loudly, this time is extremely valuable for the submarine, and the sooner it dives to the bottom of the sea, the greater the chance of successful escape.

Bernard never thought of the other side without discovering himself, not pinning his hopes on the enemy's mistakes, and always preparing for the worst, believing that it was because of his adherence to this creed that he managed to avoid many dangers in the war and survived until now.

"The ballast water tanks have been filled with water, and the bow balance rudder has been deployed." The Navigator stared at the dashboard, watching the lights light up.

"Two cars at full speed, five degrees of depression."

"Understood, sir, both cars at full speed."

"Seventeen feet...... Twenty feet ...... Twenty-five feet...... Twenty-eight feet, sir. Lieutenant Matthew reported.

"Keep diving, down to forty-five feet." Bernard straightened his military hat and walked over to the chart table.

"The average depth here is 80 to 90 feet, but there are some 50-foot underwater dunes, although they are marked on charts. But I don't know if there will be any omissions, the seabed conditions in this area are complicated, and no Royal Navy submarine has ever ventured here. ”

"Thirty feet...... Sir. ”

"Go on and tell Mr. Miller to calm the passengers, I don't want panic inside my submarine while it's diving." Captain Bernard held the two corners of the chart table and calculated the route on the map with a frown.

As the British submarine hurried down, a thousand meters above her head, a huge twin-engine water bomber began to circle the foaming ripples on the surface of the sea, while the crew members excitedly reported their findings to their superiors.

"Vulture 56 calls the fox's den. Vulture 56 calls the fox's nest, we have found target number one, we have found target number one, we are now in the position of F51, B4, repeat, the position is in the position of F51, B4. ”

The radio communicator was holding the microphone and shouting loudly, they were now using the RAF communication band, and the Luftwaffe had taken over all the radio stations owned by the RAF. As a result, the Luftwaffe's communication range covered the entire British mainland and a large area of surrounding territorial waters.

"This is the fox's nest, congratulations, Vulture 56, continue to track the target. Don't let it out of your sight, other troops will soon come to your aid. "There was some noise on the radio, but I could tell the specific commands.

"The target has dived, fox's den. The target has dived. The correspondent honestly reported.

"Then stay in that area and find a way to find her again."

"Vulture 56 understands if the target is found again. Is it possible to launch an attack? The captain sent out an interrogation.

"Yes, you can use any means to destroy the enemy." The other party was silent for a while, and then replied in the affirmative.

"Vulture 56 understands." The captain Sergeant Wellman showed a hideous smile on the corner of his mouth, he had served for so long, and finally made him wait for the opportunity to participate in actual combat, originally he thought that the war was over, and there was no such possibility in his life. With the flip of the control wheel, the huge HE115 water bomber began to make a third circle.

The HE115 piloted by Wellman was not part of the Luftwaffe until three days ago, and the seaplane was originally the property of the Norwegian Naval Aviation. Before the war, German aircraft manufacturers sold their products all over the world to accumulate funds for the development and production of new models. Heinkel was no exception, and they developed the HE115, a high-performance water bomber, which was immediately marketed to all European countries.

However, the use of seaplanes is limited, and many countries have their own mature domestic products, so in the end, the only thing interested in them is Norway's naval aviation department, Norway has a long and winding coastline, and needs a long-range and bomb-loaded seaplane to undertake armed patrols, and Norway has countless calm fjords suitable for large seaplanes to land.

The one in Wellman's hands is one of the six HE115Ns sold by Germany to Norway. The Norwegian naval aviation gave it the flight number F.56, and after the Norwegian campaign, the plane was flown by Norwegian pilots and fled to England, where it was parked in a hidden berth in the port of Southampton for a long time, and was left unattended for a long time, only the Norwegian pilots would maintain it on a daily basis, and the British Aerospace Commission would sometimes send one or two officers on board to conduct some research, and the plane only made a few test flights after arriving in England, and then the British never allowed her to return to the skies.

Originally, the Royal Navy would have begun to study it in four years, but it is obviously unlikely in this time and space.

After the German Navy occupied Southampton, it was soon surprised to find this German-made seaplane, and there were three other products of the same type with her, one of which was one of the two HE115s captured by the Luftwaffe in Narvik that year, and finally returned to the Germans after a year.

Wellman was the pilot who was drawn from the Coastal Bomber Wing to recover the bomber, he and his crew had just arrived in Southampton two days earlier, and when he received the search order, he was preparing for takeoff at his berth in Southampton.

"One more circle. She couldn't have dived very deep in this time. The navigator lay in the sighting compartment of the bow, carefully observing the surface of the sea, and he tried to spot the traces of the underwater submarine from the subtle changes on the surface.

If you are in the Mediterranean or the Caribbean, if the weather is good, you can even spot submarines sailing at a depth of thirty or forty meters from the air, but Bristol Bay obviously does not have such conditions, although the water here still looks blue, but it has been heavily polluted by the drainage of the surrounding cities.

"Look, there! Eleven o'clock on the left. The navigator suddenly noticed something unusual, and he reported it loudly to the captain.

"I saw it. Let's lower the height a little. "Wellman pushed the control wheel forward, and the water bomber began to descend in altitude. Just as the navigator had indicated, a yellow-brown trail appeared on the sea, which looked like a cloud of smoke tumbling underwater, which stood out against the turquoise sea.

"What do you think that is," Wellman asked his navigator.

"I don't understand, it looks like it's a dye or something." The navigator replied loudly.

"If you take a look around again, it may have something to do with our goals."

"I think so, too, there is no one else in this area."

Just when the crew of that HE115 was guessing curiously. There was a mess in the N25's cabin.

"The various compartments reported damage, and there were no injuries." Captain Bernard clutched his broken forehead, blood dripping down the gap between his fingers onto his pale blue summer short-sleeved shirt, staining his chest red.

"Motor No. 1 caught fire. We are putting out the fire. The chief engineer shouted loudly over the intercom in the boat.

"Everybody stays where they are and doesn't move."

"Calm down! It's an emergency! ”

"We hit something, what's going on in the front torpedo room."

"God, what's going on?"

"Captain, we're at zero now. We ran aground. ”

"How is that possible? The charts do not indicate that there is an undersea sandbar. ”

There was a lot of shouting in the command cabin, and every crew member was shouting at the loudest voice, as if this would drive away the fear in their hearts.

"This is the bow torpedo compartment. We've got some leaks here, but it's not too serious, but two sailors have been injured and I need a doctor here. "The bow torpedo captain reported in the intercom.

"Understood, I'll let the doctor go as soon as possible." Bernard turned his head to look at the medic standing aside.

"Wait until I take care of the wound on your head." The medic is rummaging through his medical cabinet for disinfectant.

"I'm fine, you go to the torpedo compartment first."

"This is the engine room, the number one motor is finished, we've turned off all the power." Engine room reports.

"Well done, Chief Engineer, wait for orders." Bernard pressed the call switch.

"This is the captain, we just had some minor troubles, but please don't worry, the submarine is not damaged, and the problem will be solved soon." Bernard released a speech to the entire boat.

"Gentlemen, apparently we have hit an unknown sand dune, I have encountered this kind of thing a few times before, it is not a big deal, now let's find a way to get up to the surface and get out of the current predicament." Bernard found a handkerchief and covered the wound on his head, but half of his face was covered in blood and looked a little scary.

"Empty the ballast tanks No. 2 and No. 4." Bernard gave the order.

"Yes, sir, number two, number four, draining." The sailors unscrewed the corresponding high-pressure air valve, and compressed air was poured into the ballast tank, which expelled the seawater from the tank.

"Sir, ballast tanks No. 2 and No. 4 have been emptied." The Navigator reported.

"No response, sir." Deputy Captain Matthew reported from the stand-up in front of the depth gauge.

"Empty number five, number seven." Bernard frowned and continued to give orders.

"Yes, sir, empty Five, Seven."

As high-pressure gas filled the ballast water tanks, the submarine hull made a creaking sound from the rubbing of permeable metal.

"No response, sir, we're still at thirty-five feet." Matthew's voice trembled as he reported. He turned his face to look at the captain in horror.

"It's okay, she still needs some encouragement."

Bernard commanded loudly as he leaned on the periscope's shaft guardrail.

"Empty number six, number eight."

As one ballast tank after another was emptied, the submarine only kept crunching, and was unwilling to move an inch and a half in place.

"This must be a curse, this is the curse of the undead of the Citis." Lieutenant Matthew suddenly screamed, and the excessive pressure made his spirit break down a little.

"Shut up, you stupid, we're just sucked in, there's probably a mudflat. This is normal. Captain Bernard gave Matthew a disgusted look, then pressed the intercom.

"Chief Engineer, can the No. 2 motor still be used?"

"No problem, sir."

"Start engine number two, move forward one."

"Forward one, obey the sir."

The submarine began to tremble slightly, but showed no signs of moving.

"Parking! Take a step back. ”

"Parking! Step back one, obey, sir. ”

Still nothing works.

"Now we're stuck here. It's all your fault. Matthew shouted loudly.

"Shut up, I order you to shut up, Lieutenant." Bernard was furious, ah fed up with this hysterical coward.

"We should drain all the ballast water tanks. We have to surface! Matthew ignored Bernard's order and shouted loudly.

"There's a German plane up there looking for us, you idiot." Bernard retorted coldly.

"Excuse me, what's going on. Captain. Miller slipped into the command cabin, and he asked, confused.

"Please go back to your bed, Mr. Miller. I don't have time to answer your question right now. ”

"Attention, Captain, I am your employer."

"Shut up, if you're not satisfied, get out of this submarine with your stinky money, and I'll arrange a torpedo tube for you." Bernard turned his face to Miller with a vicious threat.

"Okay, okay, that's where you're in charge." Miller hurriedly waved his hand, turned and got out of the command cabin.

"You see, Bernard, there must be a dozen German warships coming here now, the mission has failed, why do we have to work for this Yankee, I don't want to suffocate in this damn submarine, the right choice now is to surface."

"I remember reminding you that the Germans were looking for us up there."

"We can surrender to the Germans, you think, there are so many scientists on this submarine, all of whom the Germans really want to catch."

"You're crazy, Lieutenant Matthew, you have to remember that you are an officer in the Royal Navy." Bernard strode up to Matthew, grabbed Matthew's collar with one hand, and stared at each other viciously.

"You want us to be buried with these people for your boring sense of honor?" Matthew asked angrily.

"It's not time to lose hope, we still have a chance." Bernard tried to convince the deputy.

"You bastard, we only have one electric motor left now, and the hull is already injured, it is impossible for us to complete this mission, I told you earlier, this submarine is cursed! What are you looking for, don't you see, it's full of the ghosts of the victims, and I can hear their wails. Matthew jerked free of Bernard's restraints and landed a hard left hook on Bernard's chin, who took a few steps back and slammed into the chart table.

"Navigator, arrest Lieutenant Matthew, he's gone mad." Bernard clutched his chin and shook his head, trying to chase away the vertigo in his brain.

"No, I'm going to deprive you of the captain's command, and now this submarine is under my command." Matthew shouted loudly and pulled a Browning miniature pistol out of his pocket.

"What do you want to do, Lieutenant." Bernard looked at the usually timid first mate in surprise.

"Navigator, now follow my orders and empty all ballast tanks." Matthew commanded.

The navigator glanced back and forth at Matthew and Bernard, and then conveyed the order to his subordinates.

"Obey, sir, empty all ballast tanks."

As the valve was opened, the hull began to sway slightly, and there was a loud grinding sound from the hull. Matthew pointed his pistol at Bernard, looking at the depth gauge pointer with a tilted face.

"There is a reaction, empty the No. 1 and No. 2 fuel tanks." Matthew commanded loudly.

"Yes, sir." The navigator replied in a loud voice.

"Do you know what you're doing? Matthew. Bernard rubbed his chin, the wound on his forehead cracked, and the blood began to flow again.

"I'm trying to find a way to save all of our lives, you cursed goddamn bastard." Matthew replied loudly.

"Look, it looks like fuel."

The HE115 crew, who were circling in the air, found a large amount of black fuel surfacing from the surface, and they had previously found a large amount of bubbles gushing out of it, but now it can be confirmed that this is the British submarine below, and it is obvious that the other party must be in some trouble.

"Report to Command what's going on here." Wellman ordered excitedly and loudly.

"Sergeant, she's coming up, look, she's coming up." The navigator shouted loudly. In the middle of a thick oil slick, a towering conning tower broke through the water and was still slowly rising. Soon the 1,200-ton ocean-going submarine showed her full view in front of the German bombers, only to look a little embarrassed because the deck and hull were covered with a layer of pitch-black fuel.

"Ready to attack? Staff sergeant. The navigator got down on the bomb mount and turned on the circuit switch of the bomb sight.

"Wait a minute, see what these Britons are up to, but you can open the magazine first." Wellman flipped the control wheel and the plane began to circle in reverse, and if the British submarine moved, he immediately turned the plane into the offensive route.

"There are people on the conning tower, they are waving white cloths at us, these people have surrendered to us, sergeant, what are we going to do." The navigator asked that he had never encountered such a situation before, and that a submarine surrendered to a seaplane.

"Send them a light signal, stop where you are, don't act rashly, and if there's any unusual behavior, we'll not hesitate to sink her." Wellman was relieved and secretly felt a trace of regret, and the actual battle he had been looking forward to seemed to have been lost again.

I wish you all a happy Lantern Festival, a family reunion, happiness, good health, continuous financial resources, successful career, and a safe family.

Finally, please vote for the monthly ticket in your hand and celebrate the Lantern Festival with the author.

Thank you all for your support. (To be continued.) )