Chapter 680: Scramble to Intercept

“Emergency! Emergency! All fighter pilots, proceed immediately to the ready area! Emergency! Emergency! All fighter pilots, proceed immediately to the ready area!” A shrill alarm echoed through the lounge of a secret military airfield in Romania.

Two pilots were holding glasses, bragging about how many enemy planes they had shot down in which battle. Although these stories had been told countless times by the individuals involved, they were still brought up regularly, just as people at a class reunion love to talk about the same old amusing stories from their school days.

Hearing the alarm, the two men hurriedly put down their glasses. Although drinking was forbidden on duty, in the lounge, a couple of sips of French wine to quench their thirst while boasting was perfectly acceptable. One after the other, they rushed out of the lounge and ran towards the locker room not far away.

In the corridor, there were already pilots dressed in their special black leather jackets, goggles on, fastening their belts as they ran towards the flight line. After all, some of them had been playing cards in the locker room and could react a little faster.

“Damn it! What the hell is going on? Did the ground radar spot an enemy plane?” one German pilot complained, opening his locker and cursing the enemy for disturbing their rest. Although his mouth was full of profanities, his hands were not slow. In a flash, he had taken off his service uniform, thrown it into the locker, and pulled out a warm jacket.

“I heard the news didn’t come from the radar station. When I came over, the people at the airfield radar station were also having an emergency assembly. I heard the news came from the Turkish side, saying that a large number of American planes have crossed the border,” another said. There are always well-informed people everywhere, just as there are always people who love to gossip.

“American planes?” Under normal circumstances, even if American planes were to raid the Romanian oil fields, they would change their camouflage and markings to disguise themselves as British aircraft. Therefore, generally speaking, the German Air Force internally classified such air raids as “British air raids” rather than “American air raids.” But Turkey clearly did not have this habit; they relied only on their own eyes to distinguish.

“I hear these planes didn’t even change their camouflage. They’re just flying straight towards us,” the well-informed German pilot said. He had already put on his gear and, without further ado, hurried outside. This was, after all, an emergency assembly, and everyone had to get to the flight line as quickly as possible to be on standby.

As he put on his leather jacket, this pilot was stunned for a moment after hearing what the other had said. Then he sneered and said with resignation, “I don’t even know if we’ll get a chance to fight. The last time the Americans came, before our planes even got there, those guys from the anti-aircraft units had already shot down all twenty-odd of them…”

“Hehe! This time it’s different! I was just chatting with that beautiful NCO in the telegraph office when the news came in. I saw the contents of the telegram. The Americans have sent almost 200 planes. They have to leave a few for us to shoot down, right?” Another pilot had also put on his clothes and was heading for the main gate. It was no wonder he was in such a hurry to get dressed after hearing the news. This time, there was a real chance to add a big number to everyone’s kill record. Who wouldn’t be excited?

What’s going on? Are the Americans stupid? Is this a declaration of war? Over a hundred planes bombing without even being disguised as British aircraft. Isn’t this a sign that they’re going to completely turn against us? The German pilot who heard this news was stunned for a moment. Then he saw several of his comrades around him hastily putting on their clothes after hearing the news, so he also began to dress in a hurry.

By the time everyone had assembled in the ready room by the flight line, nine minutes had already passed since the alarm had sounded. The entire ready room was already filled with pilots and commanders. The commander of this fighter squadron walked into the room with his intelligence folder, and the scene immediately fell silent. The buzzing of discussion about the large-scale American invasion immediately disappeared.

“All aircraft are to take off immediately to intercept this group of American planes. For the purpose of training, the number of planes taking off has been set at 150. All pilots at this base will participate in this interception mission,” the squadron leader said, looking at all the pilots and seeing the excitement in their eyes.

Many of them were pilots who had performed outstandingly at the front before. Otherwise, they would not have been selected to be deployed in such an important position. But most of the time, they could only sit here and hope that the Americans would lose their minds and send planes to their deaths, watching as their comrades on other fronts added hundreds, even thousands, to their kill records.

“I won’t say much more. All pilots on standby, begin to board your aircraft. Cooperate with the ground crew to conduct a final inspection of the planes. Then, use the special interception weapon loadout. All aircraft, take off in formation and intercept the American bomber group,” the squadron leader said with a nod, seemingly satisfied with the morale of his squadron.

At this command, all the pilots ran towards their planes. The fighters deployed for air defense in this area were the relatively mature Fw-190D liquid-cooled high-altitude interceptor model. They used a weapon configuration specifically designed to deal with high-altitude bombers: a single 30mm cannon in the propeller hub, combined with two 20mm cannons. This could be said to be capable of inflicting significant damage on the tough American B-17 bombers.

In addition, the German high-altitude interceptor could carry a type of rocket that, when fired in salvos, could disrupt the enemy’s defensive formation and break up their bomber groups. This weapon had been used when Germany intercepted British planes in retaliation for the bombing of Berlin. The effect had been very good, so it had been used ever since.

One after another, the Fw-190D fighters began to taxi down the center of the runway. With the hum of the engines driving the propellers, one after another, German planes with the Iron Cross identification markings on their wings began to take off. They then formed up in neat formations in the sky not far away, with four planes in a single column, and flew towards the distant sky. And there, more planes were assembling, like a dense swarm of locusts.

At the same time as the German planes were scrambling to intercept the American bomber group, the American bomber group that had taken off from the Black Sea coast was already flying over Crimea. These bombers were carrying a huge number of bombs and had a full escort of 60 of the newest P-40s with enhanced engines. They were heading aggressively towards the Romanian oil fields.

Khrushchev and Marshal Voroshilov looked up and saw the American bombers fly over their heads, an indescribable melancholy in their hearts. Their situation now was truly dire. If the Soviet Union won the war, the two of them would certainly be hanged by Stalin in Red Square as an example. And even if the Germans won, their fate would not be much better. They would probably end up dying of old age in prison.

But the two of them still leaned against a large tree with already yellowed leaves, looking up at the azure sky where the American B-17 bombers were flying in a dense formation. These bombers were going to bomb the German oil facilities and destroy the German war potential. The undersides of these war machines were painted with white five-pointed stars, which looked different from the Soviet red five-pointed stars. Outside the white five-pointed star was a blue circular background, and on both sides of this circle were two wide white horizontal bars—this was the insignia of the U.S. Army Air Corps, as both Khrushchev and Voroshilov knew.

Almost at the same moment, the B-17 bomber force that was heading north from the south to attract the attention of the German army began to release a secret weapon they were carrying this time from their bomb bays: chaff, which could interfere with radar beams. This substance could prevent the radar from detecting the American targets within that area, including specific information such as their speed and numbers.

On the ground, in a forward German radar station in Bulgaria, a radar operator looked at a screen filled with white interference snow and turned his head helplessly to his superior. “The enemy has discovered the interfering effect of chaff on radar. They are using chaff to jam our detection. I can no longer confirm the current heading, altitude, or speed of these aircraft.”

“Extrapolate based on the previously measured data, then transmit the information back to the second-layer radar observation station in Romania,” the German officer at the radar station said, clearly very annoyed that the Americans had found a way to interfere with their radar. He gave the operational order with his hands behind his back in a heavy tone. “Continue to monitor the target’s flight area. The chaff can’t last forever. They will have to show their tails sooner or later!”

The call was relayed all the way back to the air defense command headquarters in Romania. A major general of the air force with a small mustache picked up the phone in front of him and said respectfully, “General Kesselring? This is Galland from the Romanian Air Defense Command. The Americans have deployed chaff in the radar surveillance area… Yes! They have interfered with our radar surveillance, and then, without changing their flight path, they are still approaching Romania! Yes, the planes have already taken off and are expected to make contact soon.”

“The Americans’ actions this time are a bit strange. I think they must have more up their sleeve than just chaff! I don’t care what methods you use, you must ensure that not a single American bomber can enter Romania!” On the other end of the line, Kesselring’s voice came through, carrying a hint of authority. After all, this concerned more than half of the German army’s oil resources, and no one could be careless.

Published: 2025-09-17T08:59:42.000+00:00
Last Edited: 2026-02-20T19:08:50.000+00:00
URL: https://www.patreon.com/caleredhair/posts/mtr-c680-to-139090476

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